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The Antichrist (the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness) was missing, and Crowley had been looking for him for ages.
Or at least, it felt that way, as Nanny Astoreth walked down the halls of the Dowling residence at a brisk pace. The child wasn’t in any of his usual hiding spots. He was not in his tree house (the one that wasn’t supposed to be on the grounds for security reasons). He was not in the kitchen stealing snacks (growing children needed to eat, after all, and Nanny and Cook had an agreement that Warlock be allowed to take what he wanted as long as he ate his greens at dinner). He had been seen there earlier taking some cookies and milk, but Cook had looked away to facilitate this “theft”.
He wasn’t even with brother Francis, which had been the first place Nanny looked. The Adversary was a cheerful enough child, if prone to hiding from his duties. This good cheer meant he made friends easily, and enjoyed keeping them from their duties as well. If he was not attempting to distract Nanny he tended to go to Francis. It was usually something that made him easier to find. Except not today.
Which is why Nanny Ashtoreth was now making her dignified way as fast as she could to her rooms- no running, lest anyone suspect she lost track of the kid. The Dowlings didn’t need to know, and any outsiders checking in from Above or Below definitely did not need to know about her ability of losing the Adversary.
As she reached her rooms on the ground floor, overlooking the gardens at the back of the house she perceived... something was in her room. Their presence was small to Ashtoreth’s senses, barely noticeable but definitely there, taking up space in The Room That Was Hers-
Ashtoreth moved, stalking the door as though it was prey that might run, then opened the door in one fell swoop as soon as the doorknob-prey was in her reach.
The intruder froze in place by the window sill at the door's abrupt opening.
It was Warlock, his small face already tearstained. Next to him, on the floor and splashed down the wall lay the remnants of his theft: cookies and milk. Upon seeing his Nanny he started crying even harder.
“I’m sorry Nanny, I’m so sorry! I just-“ a hiccup. ” I just wanted to bring cookies for you as a surprise, and- and now,” more hiccups, making it hard to understand the words.
If it could be said that Nanny had a heart, one might say it melted to see the child like this. In a few strides she was beside him, and enveloped him in a hug.
Warlock continued hiccuping and mumbled: “‘M sorry I ruined your room, Nanny.”
“That’s quite alright pet, I hated that wallpaper, anyway” Over his shoulder she frowned menacingly at the wallpaper, which cleaned itself obligingly, and altered its pattern to be less dreadfully old fashioned.
