world class lurker

What looks like a speck of black dust on the floor of the mansion starts growing, widening, until there's a large pool of darkness on the ground. It bubbles and roils, as thick and glistening as oil. A low wailing that sounds like a thousand lost souls crying out comes from it -- and a figure slowly climbs its way out of the darkness. The smell of sulphur permeates its way through the room. It's all very stereotypical. A little predictable, some would say.

Hastur, a Duke of Hell, stands in the middle of the room. He is tall, dark, definitely not handsome -- and definitely not a sight for sore eyes. If one had sore eyes and looked at him, one would instead want to use one's own fingers to tear one's own eyes out of the sockets rather than continue looking at him. He's distinctly quite maggoty until he pulls his form together more, at which point he's only mildly maggoty. Mildly maggoty and pissed.

He knows he's here. He can smell him here, the unique scent of gloomy fall evenings, leather jackets, gasoline, and something very... ophidian. After that whole ordeal with the Apocalypse, the stupid demon, the upstart, the fool, the-- flash bastard¹ just up and left, saddling Hastur with all of his paperwork! Car parked on the street, abandoned. That was the kicker. The real head-scratcher. Why would Crowley abandon his car? The only explanation is that he's out there getting into some sort of trouble he shouldn't be... Disobeying the Lord and Master's orders, surely.²

"CROWLEY!" He suddenly yells, turning in a small circle. There's no response.

"Crawly," he says, quieter and more sinister. He walks to the door of the room, peering down the hallway. "I know you're here. I know you've abandoned your position. We aren't happy with you. He isn't happy with you. You're in big trouble... and you know what that means. We've done this before and I'm still BLOODY PISSED from last time. I've been sent to fetch you and the sooner you see me, the sooner you come to me... the fewer repercussions you'll have to face." The unhappy smile on his face says otherwise.

Hastur, Duke of Hell, is angry and on the hunt for a particular demon. Apologies to anyone who gets in his way.

¹Hastur's insults typically lack swear words, despite being a demon, because (due to being a demon) he is quite uncreative.
² The concepts of trouble and disobedience are lauded in Hell in thought but not the practice-- and especially not against Hell.