The Ashes of Eden

Too much love will kill you

Their agreement was sealed with a handshake, just like his fate.

At the moment he couldn't have cared less about that. His thoughts were running in circles, slowly strangling every other helpful idea. Despair started to nest in his chest, bringing its children: guilt fear and regret. So much regret.

Usually, he was the one who evoked these feelings in others and subsequently enjoyed their agony. Experiencing it himself was worse than every punishment hell had ever executed on him. Well, this was not quite true. The cruel realization that he was the one to blame for the most important person to him being under the force of these monsters was worse than a shower with holy water.

"If you could do yourself the favor and put your hands forward?" the deep voice ripped Crowley out of his thoughts. He didn't even pay attention to the scornfulness in his words. Instead, he mechanically put his hands forwards.
Of course, he wouldn't accept all of this so easily he still was better than that prick,. But for now, he had to. For the sake of Aziraphale.

Metal handcuffs hit his skin. At first, he thought their coldness burnt his hands, but it didn't stop. Instead, it forced him to bite his lip down, suppressing a scream of pain. "What the hell are thosssse?" he hissed angrily, trying to sooth the torture by pressing his limbs close against his clothes. It burnt like they had poured melted silver over his wrists, his skin casted blisters wherever they touched him. "Fuck..." he swore under his breath, trying to keep calm.

"That, my devilish friend, are handcuffs forged in the holy Easter fire, extinguished in holy water and soaked in heavenly magic. I thought you'd like them." Strauß explained to him with a triumphant grin.

"N... Nice idea." The demon stuttered out, trying to miracle them away. However, nothing happened. Even more shocked he stared at his hands.

"Surprised? We are holding an angel hostage and you still think you can outsmart us with those cheap tricks?" Adolf asked him, furrowing his eyebrows, as if he tried understanding his dumb arrogance.

"It was worth a try you... you bastard." The serpent spit the words into his face as if they were poisonous.

"Poor demon, enslaved by a single, worthless mortal." The general mocked back, taking a step forward, his eyes were sparkling with exuberant sadism. "Come on, dare again. Insult me." He challenged the ginger, while shoving his hand into his jacket, as some kind of thread.

Without knowing what it was that his interlocutor was holding in his hands. Crowley felt fear rise inside of his chest. Still his own pride forbade him to stay silent now. "Then what asshole?" he hissed into his face, his rage covered up the pain caused by the handcuffs, which were etching themselves through his skin.

The man tsked at him, meanwhile shaking his head, as if he was scolding an impolite child. "Mr. Crowley, you're forcing me to do this." He lied, in a voice that sounded almost sorry. However, the bitter truth was, he enjoyed every bloody second of this.

A metallic click echoed through the room. More silver flashed up from under the jacket. The demon took a step back, trying to protect his skin. Unfortunately, the handcuffs limited his possibilities. The general shot forward, pulling his raised hands away.

An angry hiss slipped from the serpent's lips, when suddenly the pain of ten thousand volt shot through his entire buy. An agonizing scream emerged from his lips. Without any warning he felt his legs giving out, as if a sledgehammer had hit him into the spine.

His nerves were so overwhelmed. His eyesight started to flicker. Breathing got more and more difficult, while a thousand thorns dug into his throat. If his brain had functioned right at this point, he would have yelled: "What the hell is this?" but he was too busy trying not to pass out.