I have been watching them for hours. Sleep that is.
Crowley owes me a get out of Hell free card for this as well as what he promised.
I mean, how hard can it be to kill the Winchester brothers?
I just had to sneak into Hell, steal a book that belonged to his mother that was written in a language that no one can find on Google translate and hopefully poison them both, keeping them out of the way for good. With death.
Well, you can tell by the way I use my-
“What is it now Crowley,” I hiss into the phone. “This had better be good.”
He groans and I can hear him swallow something. No taste whatsoever. Well, he is a demon. “Witch, don’t try my patience anymore or you will be tortured and-“
“Hung, drawn and quartered in Hell before returning for more torture. I know, you won’t stop saying it.”
“Well, come on. Why did you ring?”
“I rang because I’m sending someone to come help you, a lackey of mine. A minor demon. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that I don’t want him here and oh yes… YOU’RE THE BACKSTABBING WITCH WHO-“
Blah blah blah. Stole priceless object. Blah blah blah. Opened portal in Hell. Blah blah blah. Chaos. Blah blah blah. Torture for all eternity. Blah blah blah.
“IF YOU WANT TO KEEP OUR DEAL, YOU’LL KEEP HIM WITH YOU! Now, I have to go and run Hell. It’s not as if the place is going to run itself. Bye.”
Prick. Scottish prick.
“So you’re the witch. Wow, you’re really pretty. Why aren’t you green, aren’t all witches gree-“
I whirl around, grab the boy by the throat and pin him to the ground.
So this is who Crowley doesn’t want around.
Freckles adorn his face like a spread of trees cover the forest floor. His black eyes are on display, rookie mistake, but his dark brown hair laying over one in a bieber-y cut. He’s so young, probably around late teens but not even old enough to get a tattoo.
He blinks. Blinks again. Then he opens his mouth to talk. Maybe he’ll explain what Crowley has sent him for.
“So my name’s Donnie like Donatello and I have been alive for AGES. Anyway, you are super pretty and you have really nice hair. Plus, you smell good and a nice soul. Why do witches have souls? Why aren’t you green? Do you have a broomstick? Can you fly? Are you like Superman? Do you like Superman? What about Batman? Ooh, ooh. Green Lantern. Or the Flash. I like the Flash. Even the TV sho-“ I cover his mouth. Hello, silence my old friend.
“Okay, hello Donatello. My name is Y/N if you have not already been told by your boss. Judging by your shell or suit you grabbed the nearest kid. So you’re not exactly the best guy for the job here so I think it’s best if you just… EW, did you just LICK me? What the Hell is wrong with you?” I let go of his mouth to wipe his saliva off of my hand. Gross. Why.
“So why are you not green?”
“Ok, no witches are green. We’re human. Not anything else. Even the Witch of The West wasn’t really green. It was a glamour. A disguise spell. If anything you should be green because you’re named after a mutant ninja turtle.”
He pushes me off of him and stands up, giving me a hand to leverage myself up with.
Holy shit, he’s tall.
“K, witches aren’t green. Neither are meat suits-“ He blinks and his eyes turn into a soft shade of sea green. “-or hunters. So, we’re meant to kill the Winchesters. Right?”
I nod, “Yes, that’s the plan and we’ll kill them with this.” I pull out a tube of poison from between my breasts. “Which we can use on the Winchesters and then leave after leaving some evidence. Your job will be to dress up as a pizza delivery boy, deliver a ‘complimentary pizza’ and leave. The motel owner will be blamed and we get off Scot free.” I replace the vial where it was.
“Now, tell me the plan because otherwise we won’t be able to do it. Go.”
He nods, blinks and then blinks again before speaking, slightly hopping on the spot as he wrings his hands together.
“Oh, ok. Um, we kill somebody. I dress up. We get pizza. Scotland is free?”
“NO OF COURSE Not. Look, you’re dressed up as pizza boy so get some pizza. Shoo, off you go.”
He runs off, staying in the meatusit.
Huh, most demons would of dropped it and smoked out.
So, why didn’t he?
I’ll wait anyway.
“What time do you call this?” He has just returned, a box of pizza held in his hands.
“Uh, dinner time.”
“I’m sorry, the boss wanted me to deliver two more pizzas before I could get a double for the boys here.”
“Wait, CROWLEY wanted you to deliver two pizzas?”
He shakes his head and giggles, “No, my boss at the pizza place-"
“Where you don’t actually work.”
“-Said that I had to deliver two more before I could take this special order.”
“So, you know the plan. Well, no time to run over that. I will put the stuff in the pizza and you can deliver it.”
“OH. Riiight, The poison. The poison for the Winchesters. The poison chosen especially to kill the Winchesters. The Winchester's poison.”
“Let’s just do this and get it over with.”