Crowley didn’t like cages. In fact, he very well hated them. Oh he resented them with a passion that burned brighter than the hottest volcano the earth had ever seen.
They were tight, even tighter as he wasn’t exactly in good shape even with everything he’d been through, he couldn’t move properly and the worst was he was vulnerable.
Everybody could see. They didn’t see him. They saw what he was. There weren’t many of Crowley’s kind left, not anymore. Most were killed, raped to death, served until their last breath. Why? Because they were different. Shifters, just like Crowley was. He? He was a Hellhound. Fiery and beasty creatures. Once, long long time ago.
Now? He was broken, damaged and beyond repair. A pet. While he should be grateful to have been taken away from that place, he doubted he’d come to a better one, ever. He’d hoped for freedom, but that wish was feeble. There was no freedom for someone like him, especially not since he couldn’t hide anymore. He was used goods, so damaged he couldn’t even do the only thing that actually made him different. Shift. Not fully. While he could hide all of his pet-like attributes in the past, he was now always walking around as an abomination. His mighty tail and ears always in sight, fiery red eyes that had no fire left in them and a set of canines hidden behind his chapped lips.
His old collar had eaten into the skin of his throat, leaving the skin angry and red — cheap quality for a cheap pet.
Crowley didn’t care anymore. Here he was saved, yet still in a cage waiting for someone to actually like what they saw… an old man, so broken there were only few inches of his skin that actually held their normal colour anymore. Everything else covered in scars and bruises that were only slowly fading.