when shadows crawl {andy biersack}

the demons here {beyond my reach}

andy wanted to believe that the scene unfolding in front of him was all just another bad dream. in the early morning, he would wake up again, take his pack of cigarettes and climb on to the same window sill he'd been sitting on for years while emelia slumbered. he wanted to believe that, he did, but the agonizing moments that held him captive in the dark room kept him in the present.

there would be no future, he realized, if he did not figure out a way for them to get out of this situation alive. he'd rather have his wings ripped out again than lose emelia and the life they were slowly rebuilding together. whatever happened next, they would be doing it together.

she was still here, he reminded himself, a fraction more than an arm's length away. if he reached forward, maybe he could...

gabriel cackled, clapping his hands together like the madman he was, grinning as if he was a human who had just won the lottery. "now, let's get started, shall we? i know you've been dying to get out of that... dump of a room, brother, haven't you?"

the dark-haired male refrained from responding, his mind frantically searching for a way to get the woman he so dearly loved out alive, even if it had to cost him his own life—but him, a fallen angel of a decade, versus three trained warrior angels? he was no match. one of them, he could take on and leave with flesh wounds, but this was impossible, and they all knew it.

still, he would not give up. his anger sat, simmering just below his skin and trying to form into something tangible. something that could be used as a weapon, as opposed to a weakness.

"tell me what you want from me, gabriel, and i'll do it, but let emelia go,"  he croaked, his voice sounding weak and torn up. it was good, convincing, even. he wanted to sound resigned, as if he had already given up any possible chance of escape. better to bargain than waste time on stalling for a plan half-formed.

except he was stalling to buy them time. it may have been a fool's error, but it was the best he could do, clutching on to the power that bounced through every nerve ending in his body and held it tight, saving it for when it was needed most.

"it's simple really," he said, the soles of his black dress shoes clacking annoyingly against the floor before stopping in front of andy, so close their breaths mixed. "i want to play a game. you used to love games, didn't you? yes, yes, i remember very well. what was your favorite? would you rather?"

everything in andy's body turned to stone, halting, everything except his even, steady breaths. even his heart stopped, not wanting to give away the true fear that he felt inside, melting everything into a pool of black, terrifying darkness. would you rather was a game teenagers played at parties when they were drunk—but his brothers? they were much, much worse.

would you rather was far from his favorite game. it was what he saw in his nightmares. he used to hide so they couldn't find him and force him into it, but they'd end up finding him, anyways. behind their father's back, they would sneak away and play it, far enough to where nobody could hear the screams.

they weren't only his screams, though. they were the screams of innocents, souls of humans living peacefully within the gates of heaven, snatched away to be tortured by beings thought to protect them. he wanted to help them, he even tried to stop it, but after years and years of the endless games, he finally gave in.

he was the one who had to choose, back then. it was always him and nobody else, because he was the prey and they were the predators. they always had fun feasting on him when their father wasn't paying attention, and ever-so-subtly when he was. in the end, it was him who was blamed for betraying god, and in return was cast down to hell, nothing but his clothes and emelia with him.