Good Omens- What on earth ( and heaven) happend next ?

Good Omens || What on earth (and heaven) happened next?|| PART ONE

Cold air bit into her lungs as her breath came in short, sharp, panicked bursts. Grey cloud enveloped her, obscuring her vision as she flailed her limbs, attempting to right herself. She could hear the wind howling in her ears, deafening her screams. She plummeted down, down, down towards the ground, and try as she might, she couldn't open her wings.

Thick, black sludge began to spew from the place in her shoulders where they would have unfurled, soaking her back and matting her once silken hair. It ran down her arms, hardening almost at once into a midnight blue balm that encased her, and preventing her limbs from moving.

The ground seemed a lot closer than it was before- rushing malevolently up to meet her. She could make out the outlines of people, all staring in her direction:gaze transfixed on her as she plummeted toward them like an old ragdoll. Desperately, she closed her eyes, summoned the last of her strength through gritted teeth, and focused.

Crowley. She had to find Crowley. She knew he was down here on earth- she had to tell him what was happening - she had to! A searing pain shot through her whole body, causing fresh tears to streak down her ash-coated face and sending vicious tremors down her spine. In a sudden flash of white-hot light, she managed to unfurl her wings and break her fall just before she crashed into the Thames River.

She had, quite literally, fallen from heaven.

.................................

Far away, deep in the languid abyss of hell, a klaxon began to sound; It reverberated shrilly through twisting tunnels, and miles of eternal torture chambers, causing the hairs on the demon's necks to stand on end. Hastur snapped his fingers distainfully, and the alarm to subsided. Suddenly, a ferret-faced demon appeared infront of him, their bespattered spectacles askew, clutching a grimy clipboard in their gnarled hands.                                                                              "What is it this time? grumbled Hastur, lighting himself a cigarette

"We've gots a new amateur demon in town- a recent reject from 'up there' - and hold on, you'll likes this bit, they were a cherub!

 A smile flitted across Hastur's face "Exellent" he crooned "send out a collection squad for them- I want them down here in less than 24 hours" 

The ferret demon frowned  " Twenty four hours is a long time Hastur, In theory they should be here in less than two "

"Well we would have them here now if bumbling oafs like you would stop shitting about!" spat Hasur," And it's Sire to you     

 "Y-yesh of course Sire, my apologies, we'll have them here in no time"

.......................................

Anthony J Crowley, who had just finished punishing his plants for the morning ( and had disposed of three of them) , was slumped listlessly in his lustrous, leather armchair, staring sullenly into the gloom. He sighed quietly to himself, inspecting the tear in the arm of his seat- and picking half-heartedly at the hole. It didn't matter that it was broken, as anything he broke he could just miracle to fix it- or that's what he liked to think anyway. A salty tear ran down his cheek, the corner of his mouth down turned. Couldn't Aziraphale see that Heaven and hell would stop at nothing to have their plan instigated for Armageddon he on earth again? Couldn't he take a hint that he-his best friend wanted to be with him, away from heaven, the Metatron, and the chaos of hell?

A low sigh escaped from his lips, and as his eyes scanned the luxurious,cold furnishings of his flat, he noticed that it was hidden under a fine layer of dust. It had been days since he had cleaned it , or even opened the blinds that prevented the suns peircing gaze from spilling into the room. He was painfully aware that hiding underneath the seat beneath him was a safe containing a flask of holy water. More tears flowed down his face, spilling into his lap. He couldn't do this- feel this any longer...