Post by AZAZEL on Sept 24, 2022 15:01:17 GMT
The lights from the carnival splashed the clouds with colour, hiding the occasional crack of lightning above them, an electrical storm that wasn’t going to douse the town with rain. If anyone with half a brain as to what was going on behind the scenes of the house of horrors that was now Mystic Falls would’ve seen the lightning for what it was – a sign that the big hitters were still around. Most of the town had no clue, and Azazel hoped to keep it that way, for now, at least.
Hands in the pockets of the canvas jacket that marked him out as a janitor, the name of his meat suit spelled out across the chest, Azazel strolled through town towards that will-o’-the-wisp lure that drew people through town. The demon smiled crookedly at the folks who passed, dipping that cleft chin in friendly greeting. Some were already clutching their spoils of the war waged against those who ran the carnival – cotton candy, some smeared around the mouths of the kids clutching bags of it, glowsticks at wrist and ankle, the peaky green tinge of folks who’d taken a spin too many on the rides, bright stuffed toys clutched proudly in the hands of those who’d won them, or those they’d been won for. Blind fools who were so caught up in that neon diorama that they didn’t see the truth.
There was a demon in their midst. Dozens of them, angels too. Things that went bump in the night scurrying around those lights. Maybe there were a handful at that carnival tonight who wouldn’t make it home afterwards. None because of him, of course, unless their name was Crowley He was the real target now, the persistent thorn in his father’s side. Rid themselves of him first, then the Winchesters, and the way was open for hell to once again reign over these pathetic little creatures.
Reaching the edges of the crowds, Azazel began to slip amongst the rides and stalls on the midway. The lights were brighter here, spilling across excited faces. He waved off offers of throwing darts or shooting targets, cackling as a stall holder tried to call him out on his cowardice. One flick of his finger had the tower of stuffed toys tumbling down on the man’s head, leaving those trying their luck at his stall to scramble closer, leaning over the line to try and make sure their balls found the necks of the milk urns while the stall guard who’d been slapping wrists for it was preoccupied.
In the centre of the carnival he turned a slow circle, his human blue eyes narrowing faintly in pleasure. He was basking in it, that burble of humanity around him, hated by his father, despised just as much by himself. A seething cesspit for them to finally clean out, along with all the things that lurked amongst that filth. Witches and warlocks, werewolves, banshees ready to scream, things that could shift into other animals, who could steal faces with even more ease than his own kind. Vampires, ready to suck the life out of them all. The lightning overhead crackled with the laugh that rolled out of him. Like they were on radar, it was almost as though he could feel every single one of them out there.
Lowering his head again, the demon focused on one of them. The girl had a spill of dark hair and wary eyes, just like most of her kind. The young were so naïve, even if they weren’t anywhere near as young as they actually looked. Azazel watched her work her way through the crowds and as she passed him he took off after her, weaving his way silently through the crowds. They were the ones to exploit, even if twisting them around your sulphurous little finger didn’t leave you with another soul twisting in Hell at the end of it. Halfway down the row of stalls he saw someone wildly swing the hammer meant to test their strength. It whistled through the air, aimed at the back of the girl’s head as she worked her way through the crowds. Whoopsy.
Azazel whipped out a hand, grabbing the girl’s arm to haul her out of the way. He took a hop back, making a show out of dodging the swing himself. The guy with the hammer twisted off balance, dumping it down into the dirt before he started firing off apologies. ”Watch out there, honey. These folks are maniacs. You OK? He didn’t tag you with that thing did he?” He patted her arm before he released it, making a show out of checking her over like she would’ve actually taken much damage even from the mallet.
Tagged: @annabelle * Word Count: 790