He would kill Crowley as soon as he saw him, No! That would be too merciful of him, he would slowly torture him until he was disincorporated, that is! He wouldn't forgive him so easily.
The negligence and carelessness of his subordinate could have ruined a plan that had been planned almost since creation. Worse, ruin it even before it started!
"If you want something well done, do it yourself," he thought bitterly as he walked furiously through the halls of hell, causing fear of his other subordinates, quite frightened by his presence to say something.
"Beelzebub!" He growled, looking for his right-hand demon among the crowd of paralyzed demons around him. Soon he saw the lord of the flies come out in a crowd of demons with an indifferent gesture that quickly became one of surprise when they saw him.
He didn't blame them, his appearance discerned with that of the demons around him, tall and thin with dark curly hair, bright bluish eyes that gave the impression of mixing with green, accompanied by sharp cheekbones and an aristocratic bearing that made him look regal to every step he took. Nothing less for the one who was the most beautiful angel of creation!
"Sir," Beelzebub spoke in a monotonous tone. "Why do you look like... like that?"
Satan did not answer his question, he just ignored them looking for the nearest exit from hell. When he found it he went to it and without looking back exclaimed loudly enough for others to hear:
"I'm leaving, Beelzebub! You are in charge while I am not here!”
"Where are you going, sir?" Asked Beelzebub, trying to pretend that the statement had not misplaced them.
"To do something important," he growled under his breath.
"How long will it take?" the lord of the flies asked again
"11 years!" That was the last thing the demons would hear from the lord of hell, who left the place without looking back, ready to fulfill the plan that had been traced for millennia.
A simple snap of fingers and everything was resolved. The babies returned with their corresponding parents. "And now the really difficult thing is coming," he thought when he saw the baby sleeping without even noticing what was happening around him.
"It was better if I had brought Beelzebub with me," he thought how his... son slowly opened his eyes, stretching. Actually, he didn't know if it would have been better to bring Beelzebub with him, but at least he wouldn't be the only demon there who didn't know what to do.
The baby smiled at him and couldn't help being horrified. He was the antichrist and there he was, smiling as if he were simple... baby.
Damn, it would be difficult to raise not only the antichrist but his son, he didn't even know how to care for a baby. Someone would have to help him with that enormous burden that had been decided taken over because of his damn pride and there was only someone he could fully trust... well, "trust," that was an exaggeration, but Crowley was the only hell being residing in the earth and I had to help him, not only because he was his boss, but because, but because it was of his damn fault that it ended in that mess!
He took the boy in his arms and with another snap of his fingers, he appeared at the door of the place where the demon Crowley have lived for several years. An apartment in the heart of London, quite pretentious, even for a demon.
To avoid suspicion, he knocked on the door, but instead of being treated, all he received was a shout.
"If you are a bible seller, get out!"
Satan grimaced, offended and knocked on the door again while his son stirred in his arms, fully awakened by the screams that the red-haired demon uttered.
After several insistent knocks, finally, the sound of feet being dragged in the direction of the door was heard. The door opened revealing the red-haired demon who had not seen for a long time.
"Crowley," he said, smiling as if nothing. As soon as the demon realized who he was, he closed the door in his face, leaving him with a frozen smile. That act infuriated the lord of hell who with one handheld the antichrist and with the other knock wildly the apartment door.
"Open the door, you inept! I know you are there!" Nothing. He knocked the door much more furiously, about to tear it down "All this is your fault and you know it! Open the door!”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Crowley was trying not to have a panic attack, not only was his demonic boss beating the door ragingly, but he was carrying in his arms the son who had delivered the nuns a few hours ago. Shit, he was totally and completely screwed.
When he finally gathered all the necessary courage, he opened the door, letting in his boss who did not even ask permission to pass, while muttering under his breath things like "Miserable" and "How hard it’s to find obedient subordinates."
"Pour me a glass of wine, Crowley," he ordered as he sat in an armchair with the antichrist still in his arms.
"Satan ..." Crowley murmured stunned.
"This is the antichrist, surely you already know him, do you?" He said. Crowley could only nod awkwardly. "What about my glass of wine?" He demanded to see that his subordinate remained paralyzed in front of him.
A simple phrase was enough for Crowley, a rebellious and unruly demon, to hurry to pour a glass of wine to the lord of hell, that was the effect that Satan had on the other demons, he was able to make them tremble with just one look and a growl.
When he returned with a glass overflowing with red wine, he saw one of the most surreal scenes he had witnessed in his more than 6000 years of existence. There, in front of him in his apartment, was Satan, lord of hell and all evil, carrying and lulling clumsily the child who was destined to end humanity, the antichrist.
He didn't even have the chance to say something when Satan saw him, he said (or rather sentenced him) coldly and laconically.
"You better get to know each other, you will help me raise him, after all."
It goes without saying that the cup ended up in pieces on the floor.
He held the cell phone tightly in his hand, begging that Satan was distracted enough to hear it. He was risking all, he knew it, but it was necessary to do so.
Three tones later, Crowley heard a voice that made his heart skip.
"Aziraphale!" He exclaimed in a tone low enough for no one to hear.
"Crowley! What a surprise, we just met a few hours ago...”
"Angel, listen to me well, I know something about the antichrist," he said quietly. "You won't believe it, but..."
He could not say anything else because he almost instantly felt his phone being taken from his hands and when he turned, he saw the lord of hell, looking at him coldly and stoically, a gesture that totally sentenced him. Now he was really screwed.