His Favorite Plaything~ (Crowley x Reader)

Chapter 2: The Speech

   My nerves increase as each person gets checked in with that douchebag Crowley. Eternal pain is getting closer with every person that joins me in this cluster, and I'm debating on whether or not to bolt once more. But again, the rational part of my brain saves me from doing such an idiotic thing, so I just sit down instead, nervously biting my nails.

   Everybody kinda keeps to themselves in this group, which I'm totally fine with. I'd rather not talk to people who are probably evil. My face flushes in embarrassment as I realize that I did just that when I exchanged unnecessary words with Crowley at the table.

   The line still has a couple thousand more people to go, if I had to give an estimate, so at least the inevitable is postponed by a little while. That thought doesn't quell my nerves, though.

   Maybe I should get some shut-eye. That's the best way to pass the time while free of nerves.

   And I don't realize that I can't sleep anymore until I've laid down on the hard floor and have tried to sleep for who knows how long.

   Once I do realize this, I groan and sit up. Since everybody was so silent, my groan was loud and obvious. Heads turn in my direction, and I blush, once again embarrassed.

   I look at the line again, and now it only has about a thousand people left.

   I whimper nervously and curl up in a ball on Hell's floor.

   Maybe Crowley was right. Maybe this place would break me.

***

   The last person in the line steps up to the table. Meanwhile, I'm a complete and utter mess. I fight back tears as I shake uncontrollably. I can almost hear my own screams, see my own blood...

   And then, that last person joins our cluster.

   Oh, crap.

   Crowley gets up from the desk and stands at the front of our massive group. Hatred bubbles in my chest at the sight of him. He snaps his fingers. For what reason, I have no idea. "Hello, subjects," he sneers at all of us, his voice amplified so we all can hear.

   Ah. That's why he snapped his fingers. Guess he couldn't stand the thought of some of us toward the back missing out on his "I'm your ruler, please fear me" speech. I glance towards the back, and the people who are stuck back there look disappointed.

   "I am your King, Crowley," the one and only says, making me reluctantly turn back around to face him. "And I thought I'd have some sympathy for the new meat and tell you all how things are going to work around here."

   Hey, I guess that's good. At least I'll know what to expect besides torturing.

   "Basically, your schedules here are going to be torture, torture, and more torture," he informs us, smiling wickedly at how all of our expressions change from nervous to very scared. I sure know mine did. "You will be healed between each torture session, and you will have a bit of time off in your cell every once in a while. Regardless of those things, torture is the main thing you should expect here."

   I guess there's nothing to expect besides torture...

   My nerves come bursting out of my eyes, tears falling out of them like waterfalls. I try not to let Crowley see that I'm crying, because he'll just exploit my weakness. I keep my head down as tears continue to wet my face. I try desperately not to make a noise when crying, and so far, it's working.

   "Anyway, Steve here will be assigning you all to your cells," Crowley tells us. I can hear the smirk in his voice, and it's sickening. "And if we find out any of you have tried to run away, we will catch you, and the torturing will be ten times worse. We take attendance daily, so we'll know which one of you to look for."

   The way he said that sends a shiver up my spine. Good thing I didn't book it. Nice going, brain.

   "And that's about it," Crowley says. "Have fun here, my pets~" He says that last sentence in an extremely taunting voice. That makes me pretty mad. How would he like to be tortured 24/7? And pets who? No thanks, man.

   He snaps his fingers, and his speech is over.

   I wipe my eyes then look up, hoping it doesn't look too obvious that I was crying. I then turn around and see the demon called Steve near the exit of the room. He motions for us all to follow him as he walks out.

   I'm about to when I feel someone grab me by the arm. I huff, annoyed at whoever this person is.

   I turn, and it's Crowley that's holding me. Now I'm even more annoyed. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" he asks me.

   For a minute, I forget how to speak. Him and his accent are just so beautiful...

   I then snap out of it, reminding myself how much of a piece of garbage he is as I shake his hand off. "Um, with them?" I respond. "You know, like you told me to?"

   He shakes his head. "You're not going with them, princess. You're coming with me."

   Oh, God. I must've pissed him off earlier when I snapped at him. Now he's gonna punish me!

   The tears come back involuntarily. He watches me cry with a gross smirk on his face. "Simmer down, darling. Trust me, this is better than going with them." He gestures to the flock of people leaving.

   "How so?" I ask, intrigued. I wipe the tears off my face, my crying halting.

   Crowley smiles. He offers his hand. "Take my hand, and I'll show you how."

   I instinctively back up. Whenever a demon reaches out their hand, it's usually to punch me. Also, holding hands with a demon has never been a goal of mine. But something about Crowley makes me trust him, despite the fact that he's a demon. I don't know what it is, but I feel that he'll keep his word in doing something that's better than what was originally planned for me.

   Also, something inside me says that holding his hand sounds nice. But I push that thought to the back of my head, refusing to acknowledge it.

   I hesitantly place my hand in his.

   He smiles, intertwining our fingers. "That's my girl."

   He retires our hands to our sides and begins to walk.

   I have no choice but to follow, wondering where he's taking me, and why going with him is better.

   I wonder these things all while trying to pretend that I don't like the feeling of my hand in his.