Carry on, Wayward Dean

The aged man strolled through the cemetery, taking his time at placing the black cane in front of his steps. He held loosely onto the silver top since he did not struggle with walking; it simply added to his appearance in a way that he liked. His face showed bones clearly under the baggy skin, revealing an age of late fifties to the normal human eye. However, he was much older than that. This man had been around since the beginnings of life. He had to have been created then, since if there is life, there must be death.

And now he was here, at a cemetery to give life to those who had already died. Tonight, he continued performing Lucifer’s wishes, as he was bound magically to the fallen Archangel. Lucifer had succeeded in possessing his true vessel, Sam Winchester, and the apocalypse had followed. The world was being overrun by Lucifer and his minions. The man hated that he was enslaved by someone so much weaker than he, but at least he still had some free range. His beasts were dominating the world by far, and that was impressive.

The man stood in a small clearing in the middle of the graves, the almost full moon shining brightly down on him. The werewolves would be out soon and probably kill some of his creatures, so he was resurrecting more. With a slight flicker of his immensely powerful magic, the dirt below the headstones started to rumble. His job now done, the man left the cemetery. He got in a white Cadillac and drove away from the low growls of the undead.