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His wings. They're touching his wings. Why are they touching his wings? He thrashed and flapped in an effort to get them off, but the hands held strong as they tied his wings together. Without the use of his wings, he felt powerless as he was dragged into place beside other bound angels and forced to his knees. Some were weeping, others were shouting, but most just stared ahead shocked silence.
No one knew what would come next. Some sort of punishment, that was clear, but what exactly would it be? He looked around at those around him, all with their wings bound and his eyes widened as his chest seized up. They're going to cut off his wings. No! No they can't do that. Can angels even survive without wings?
His instincts called for him to cry out to The Almighty, to pray for forgiveness, but knew it would be fruitless. She was the one who ordered this, and if not, She didn't care enough to do anything about it. He remained silent.
A crowd was gathering to watch the commotion. He scanned the faces, looking for one in particular. He didn't know what would become of him after this, but he wanted to see Aziraphale one last time before whatever happened happened.
And yet, as he continued to search the faces, he found himself becoming grateful despite himself that Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen. He didn't want him so see what would happen. Better for Aziraphale not to hurt by seeing him like this. What would he do after this? Would he grieve him? Would he move on? Would he complain about the punishment? Hopefully not. That would probably bring him the same fate. Please, God, just let Aziraphale be ok, whatever happens.
"DEMONS" He was startled back into the moment by Gabriel's voice amplified over the crowds. A chuckle, "Demons. I created the word, isn't it great? That's what you all are now. Don't bother calling yourselves angels, because you're not angels anymore and never will be again." Hearing Gabriel's smug, light-hearted tone made him feel sick. If you're issuing a punishment, act as such, for Heaven's sake. Stop acting all benevolent when you're going to hurt so many angels.
He watched as Lucifer was pulled to their feet some distance to his left and dragged past Gabriel, where the clouds were parting to form a large hole. Lucifer had an air of confidence and self-assurance to them, but he'd known Lucifer for a long time and could spot the fear concealed under their facade. Gabriel turned to them with a faux smile, "So, Lucifer. How do you feel about being the first angel to Fall?"
"Fuck you," Lucifer spat. "And fuck your rotten God." A collective gasp ran through the crowd as they continued, "From this day forth, I will ensure that She never gets what She wants without a fight. All will know the name Satan and fear it. Lucifer is dead. Demons, embrace your new identity. Forget Heaven and follow me wherever we may end up. We will spread sin and hatred throughout God's creations and create our own, mightier empire."
And with that, Satan tipped back and fell through the hole as a loud bang filled the air.
There was complete and utter silence for a few moments before Gabriel clapped once, a forced smile plastered on his face, "Well, they did our job for us by jumping. Who's next?"
Asmodeus was the next to be hauled towards the hole. There was no speech, no begging, no threats. Asmodeus simply stared forward, expressionless, as she was pushed back and Fell.
He closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch this happen to his comrades. Couldn't bear to think of what it would be like for him, in just a few moments.
He didn't want this. He never wanted any of this. He'd had questions and suggestions for the Almighty, and Lucifer was supportive so he followed them. He didn't even particularly care for most of what they did together, he just went along with what was expected. How would he have known that this would happen?
He choked back a sob, his chest somehow tightening even further. There were a few more bangs as more angels Fell and finally, he felt himself be pulled up roughly and dragged forward.
He stared desperately at Gabriel, "What are you doing? Is it going to hurt?"
"Oh, I'm sure it will hurt. I'm counting on it. Sinners must be punished."
"Why are you doing this?" He choked out. "Can't I be given another chance? What happened to angelic forgiveness? Why are you punishing us all?"
Gabriel rolled his eyes with a sneer, "You always did ask too many questions."
And suddenly he was falling back. Falling, falling, faster and faster. He surpassed the speed of sound and kept getting faster. Even if his wings hadn't been bound, the force of his fall would have rendered them useless regardless.
He was a star in supernova. One moment, he had been bright, beautiful, loved. And then the next, he was gone with a bang, broken pieces plummeting through space, burning up, never to be the same again.
And oh it burned. Not like the burn from flying too close a star, or the pain of catching a feather on something and having it yanked out. It wasn't the indignity of having another grab your wings, it was all of these and so much more. It was torment. The ache was sharpest in his wings, but the fire creeped into his back and through his body, his very soul cracking. His whole being was in agony, and though he moved too quickly to hear it, his throat was raw from screaming. Not just from the pain, but from the rage, the injustice, the loss.
His surroundings were a blur, he wasn't even allowed a final look at his creations as he Fell. Would he ever see the nebulae again? Would he ever even stop falling? Was this his eternal punishment, to forever fall and burn and grieve his own self?
Finally after what felt like centuries, he landed with an impact that would have killed the strongest mortal a thousand times over, into a thick, dark pool of sulfur. It bubbled and boiled around him, and though it scorched his skin, it wasn't much more unbearable than before.
He was broken, battered, ruined. He didn't have the energy to pull himself out. He could rot in here and would feel indifferent.
But then firm hands were holding him by the shoulders and pulling him out and onto his side on the rock beside the pool. He just lay there lifelessly, as the bonds were removed from his wings with a small click. They slumped out onto the ground, and he felt sick when he saw them. His previously pure white feathers were not only messier than he'd ever seen wings be, but were also now as black as soot.
An angel's wings are the font of holiness. This desecration was proof that he would never be able to return to Heaven. Not without a huge amount of power, which he knew would never be used. Especially not for everyone that Fell.
"Come on, you need to get up," Lucifer's voice rang out through the cave, quieter than usual, yet still full of pride, as if they hadn't just experienced the exact same as him. "Don't let Heaven beat you. Don't give them the satisfaction of breaking you. You don't deserve this. They had no right to do this and we'll make them pay for it."
His wings ached. A piece of him was missing now and he didn't want to move ever again, but he was so used to following orders that he shakily pushed himself up, as if guided by an outside force. And maybe he was. But if someone was stabilising him, helping him to stand, he was too numb to feel them.
Finally, he looked up and instantly took a step back. The being before him had Lucifer's face, but their skin was completely red. All their hair was gone, replaced with dark horns in a ring around their head.
"Don't panic," they said with a chuckle, "I chose this look myself. You should pick a new one too. And turn your clothes black too. We're not the angels we were anymore, we shouldn't look like them either. So change something."
He clicked his fingers and his tattered white robes mended themselves and turned to black, but he didn't want to change anything else about how he looked. It had taken him a while to settle on an appearance he was happy with, he didn't want to lose that now. Especially not after he'd already lost so much of himself.
"Heaven won't accept you back. Reject everything from before, embrace the demon you are. Change something. Now." When he still hesitated, Lucifer rolled their eyes, "It doesn't need to be anything dramatic like I did, your wings do that already, just something to show those bastards that they don't control you. Don't let all your changes be their choice. You're a demon now. Own it."
What should he change? What could he change that wouldn't alter his appearance too much? Eyes. Eyes are noticeable, but still small enough to not change everything. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, they were yellow, with slitted pupils.
Lucifer smiled with sharp teeth, "Good. Now, what's your name?"
He frowned, "You know me Lucifer, my name is-"
"It's Satan now. Not Lucifer. That was an angel's name, and as we've already established, I'm not an angel. So tell me. What. Is. Your. Name?"
He thought hard, scouring his mind for anything that could work, before he finally answered, "Crawley. My name is Crawley."
There was a splash as another screaming demon fell into the sulfur. "Right then Crawley," Satan said, "Either help me with the others or stay out of my way. But whatever you do, don't regret your decisions. Yes, they hurt us, but they also freed us. They can no longer control us and we will build our own mightier empire." With that, they turned away to help the newly arrived demon, who was already pulling themself out of the sulfur.
Crawley staggered deeper into the dark cave until he collapsed. He didn't know what to do now. His wings still burned and he wished he were still an angel. Yes, Heaven was terrible, but at least he'd known what would come. He wasn't drowning in uncertainty.
But those days were over. He was a demon now. Maybe he'd learn what that meant soon.