Astaroth was finally able to resume his stew. Luckily being at room temperature meant the organ meat was more tender. He seared it and added in all his vegetables, making a nice stew and letting it simmer on the fire. He wasn't too concerned with the man in the well escaping, so his mind was at ease. What exactly was the angel-creature going to do? He could bring the whole village but Astaroth would probably just leave. It was too much the hassle.
He sat on a chair with knitted pillows cresting it to make it perfectly comfortable. He lets his body crackle and flake off in stony dust, while relaxing. He listens to the birds, smiling as he hears an owl hooting outside, in a regular pattern, like morse.
The worst that could happen downstairs in the warren was that the human might come across Adam.
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The most of the bodies were no longer warm, just a cold sludge of human remains. The organless corpses were only disturbed by Xavier, and sloshed in their sepsis-inducing meat soup. The well smelt horrific too, and what was left of some bodies seemed to crush under the human's feet, so decayed.
As the man screams, the sound echoing out of the well, and cascading around the rabbit warren. Whether Xavier can hear it between his cries and agony, was unclear, but a slow metallic creaking noise burst from the top of the well, just for a moment. There is the sound of a chain moving, and then silence from above, once again.
--
The 'sky' of the top of the well was merely stone and dirt, browns, greys, absolutely not as beautiful as the real sky. Yet angels like Michael were always listening. Michael was the truest and most holy of the Archangels, and spent a lot of his time answering prayers and training guardians. He was the most perfect and divine, and people tended to know it...
Demons would say that Michael made it everyone's problem. His trips down to Hell every few months was just to lecture people and tell the demons they were doing a bad job. As if demons could do a bad job? It was frustrating...
But now, he was sitting in one of the field offices in heaven - and he was receiving most of Gods prayers, which were vague and undefined. Suddenly he perked up at a prayer request by name. His name. He rose and fixed his robes, prepared to head straight to the source. His wings were blue and gold, and the wingspan was twice his height. It would be a mere few glides until he was at the portal. His skin was like a marble of gold and topaz, partly transparent and a little jagged. His long white hair floated around him. He made it back to the golden city and adorned his armor, practically diving into the portal.
He was a bit stuck up, self-righteous, but who wouldn't be if they were literally an angel. He was at the head of every table, and the lead of every angel crusade. He was always pleased to server - so straight laced and well-behaved.
He followed the prayer through the human realm, flying far above the clouds. It wasn't that humans could see him anyway, they could only see an archangel if the angel allowed them to. He flies fast, serious gaze cast upon the dark earth...
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Deep in the bowels of the well, there was a faint voice, something deep and unrecognizable.
"Greetings - child." It whispers through the well, yet there is still darkness.