Abaddon awoke with a gasp. He was in the alleyway of a crowded street, slumped against the filthy and graffiti ridden wall. Putting his head in his hands, he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts. [i]Apocalypse[/i].The word rang through his mind and he remembered. He [i]remembered[/i]. A malevolent smile started to form as he stood slowly, adjusting his still - thankfully - impeccable suit. Abaddon glanced up at the sky, the sun eclipsed by the buildings that entombed him. 

He walked down the alleyway and stepped out onto the street. People were everywhere, chattering mindlessly into mobiles, hurrying to work, getting into arguments that would soon be forgotten. Abaddon's smile turned to a sneer; cockroaches and ants, milling about and bumping into one another. He was impatient to crush them.

"But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of Heaven, but my Father only." He murmured with a dry laugh. No, not even the Father would know of this.