Work Text:
Crowley sighed to himself as he walked down yet another road just like the others, its sides piled with corpses. Everywhere you went, it was constantly the same scene. The weeping, the hysteria, the prayers, it all blended together into a depressing mishmash. Sure, he'd gotten a commendation about the spike in abandonment of faith, but since he'd had nothing to do with it, it rang hollow to him.
Really. If Death and Pestilence had to secretly flirt, did it have to be so showy?
With any luck, he hoped, they'd figure it out by the end of the century.