Saturday morning.

It was a rather normal Saturday morning, everyone was sitting at the dining table and eating waffles, Katherine complaining about bills and who has to do chores around the manor, just like usual.

But, Abaddon seemed out of place. He looked frustrated, stressed even. He never looked like that, only displeased if he hadn’t got fruit loops or bones— but never this kind of displeased.

You grew concerned as you saw the bags his eyes carried underneath, dark circles which seemed to express his tiredness and discomfort. His hair, usually neatly presented, now tousled and unkept. You decided to ask what’s wrong, setting down your fork and distancing Katherine’s words into the background.

“Oh, nothing,” He started sarcastically, setting down his own fork to clench his hands into fists in thought.

“Just trying to prevent a cult who’s trying to trick me into believing that they’re going to send me back to hell but instead start an apocalypse!” He explained in distress, plumping his head down into the plate filled with waffles.

“I’ve relived centuries, millennia’s!— to try and find a way not to completely destroy earth and kill all of you!” He said with anger, abruptly standing up to rush out of the kitchen in frustration.