The Incarnate (A Good Omens CrowleyxReader)

~Chapter 22~

A/N: Here's proof that I'm actually going to get back into this story. I've also gotten like a million comments about how sad the reader is that it's over so I decided to write a little thing to prove that I'm not done, I'm just going to revise as I dislike my writing from forever ago. Soo... Enjoy this next chapter that I partly wrote out of guilt of not updating in like six months!

Also, there's a lot of torture in this (along with many chapters to come), so don't read this chapter if you have a weak stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Living on a lighted stage approaches the unreal for those who think and feel in touch with some reality beyond the gilded cage." Limelight by Rush

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are drowning.

Not in the traditional gasp-for-breath, struggle-to-the-surface kind of way. You are free-floating in the middle of a vast, dark ocean. You aren't quite sure what your body is doing--you aren't even quite sure you have one--and you feel at peace.

A moment of the dark, a moment of silence for all that had been lost.

For the first time in your life, you aren't rushing about, working for something or trying to stay above the poverty line. You aren't trying to stop Armageddon or keep your friends from dying. You just simply are.

It's a lovely feeling, one that you want to keep inside of you.

For a moment, you allow yourself to dwell in the dark and the silence. The cold comfort of death.

And as soon as it had started, it was over. You slam into the concrete ground on your back, not moving for a moment, utterly dazed. You press your eyes shut and struggle to push yourself up. Once you're on your feet, you take in the room.

It's dank and dirty. The walls and floor are concrete and the only light comes from an incandescent light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

In the middle of the room sits a chair with bones poking out of the backrest, and Beelzebub sits upon it, another demon with dirty blonde hair and almost elfish clothes standing beside them.

"Y/N L/N," Beelzebub says. "You are here for the murder of Hazztur and Ligur, two good demonzz in Hell, azz well azz canzeling Armaggeddon, zzomething everyone waz looking forward to."

The demon standing next to Beelzebub looks confused and whispers something to Beelzebub. Their eyes widen and then slit in anger.

"On the contrary, you are here to be the punching bag of all who were dizzapointed by the canzellation of Armageddon. I condemn you to zzpend eternity in the inner zircle in the zeventh level of Hell unlezz called upon a demon who wishez to torture you themzelvez."

Your voice comes out as a whisper. "Where's that?"

"The inner zircle in the zeventh level of Hell is where thoze who commit actz of violenze againzt the natural order of thingzz go." Beelzebub stands. "Now get out of my zzight. I'm sure there are many demonz who want to zzzee you."

The demon by Beelzebub's side walks over to you and grabs your arms, dragging you out of the room and into a bustling hallway. They open a metal door with a sliding panel and shove you inside, slamming the door and leaving you alone.