Night 47: Main Hallway, 2-Center
[from here]It was times like this he had to wonder if he was the only damn person in this place who still cared about finding the fastest way home possible. Which probably wasn't true, but hell. Seeing as the only people he'd worked with so far had 'stealing books' as a goal or were setting up training nights, it was no damn wonder he was feeling
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What the hell? seemed to be a running theme here and seeing what looked like a chick strung up on a crapload of swords wasn't exactly every day, even for their gig. He would've been tempted to at least help her down - no way she'd be alive - except she was moving (not in that "I could be dying" kinda way) and that dumped her right outta the unfortunate bastard category and into the threat one. Dean felt something slicing through the darkness, whistling, an impression of a weight that he was willing to bet were those damn swords.
Yeah. At least the part where they were getting attacked was familiar.
Dean didn't need to be told twice by Sam. He flattened up against the wall to present as small a target as possible, the light of his flashlight playing over the spirit - or whatever the hell this joint was gonna throw at them next - trying to gun for them. If Ruby was on top of her game, she wouldn't try anything heroic when they literally had no weapons against a ghost, and just put as much distance between this thing and them. Dean followed Sam, splitting up so the dead chick would have more targets to deal with and they'd have a better chance of getting around it.
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Sure, salt and iron and holy water all burned like a bitch, but actual physical pain? That wasn't part of the demonic job description. It's hard to feel pain when you spend your time as an incorporeal column of vaguely threatening black smoke. What the meatsuit felt was inconsequential. A demon could be literally blown apart and keep coming.
So when the ghost (or whatever it was) aimed the swords her way, Ruby wasn't terribly worried. Seriously weirded out, yes, but not worried.
At least not until the first sword hit.
Sam pulling her back probably saved her arms from worse injury than they got, but it still stung. The swords sliced along her shoulder and her forearms. The cuts weren't as deep as they could have been, but they still hurt.
It was nothing compared to the leg. Another sword aimed lower, slashing her across her thigh. This one was deeper, and Ruby didn't really know that she was prepared to handle the pain. It didn't feel like being tortured by Alistair had felt. That was agony, but in a different way. This felt a little more...physical than that. Worse still, her leg wouldn't obey her when she tried to book it out of there.
She couldn't run.
Ruby took another step and grimaced. "A little help here?"
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Tonight it was the other way around. It was her turn to show the world how deep her hatred could run. The swords that had sliced through Ruby's skin clanged uselessly to the floor as soon as they managed to spill blood. Seven more dislodged from Anthy's frame.
First, she targeted the one who was trying to separate himself. Dean's path was cut short by two swords that lodged into the wall in front of him one after the other, physically blocking him for the moment. Another zoomed forward in an attempt to pin his right hand to the wall, straight through the back of the palm if he was not quick enough to dodge.
Two targeted Sam as he fled, aiming to cut deep gashes into his limbs and slow him the same way the woman had been slowed. The last two went for the injured party at the same moment -- if they could slice at her other leg, she likely wouldn't be able to move at all.
Not too deep, though. Anthy wasn't allowed to bleed them out until their hearts stopped beating.
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Ducking and rolling with someone leaning on you, though? Yeah, that wasn't about to happen, not without some serious tangled limbs. He turned and dropped down low enough to keep from cutting his thigh right open, catching blade instead just above his hip. Another sliced across his arm. Sticky warmth spilled with a flash of white-hot.
Shit, and where was Dean?
He cast a quick glance back, but anymore than that, he couldn't afford. At this point, they just had to keep moving.
"Dean!" he snapped instead, hoping he'd hear back from his brother, something that wasn't a yell or dead silence. He hauled Ruby forward. Dammit, this was a weird role reversal because he remembered Ruby being the one to drag him out of...whatever the hell he'd gotten himself into. He was never more appreciative of her penchant for possessing petite female bodies than right now.
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That was probably the only thing that saved him from getting his friggen arm run right through. A sword came flashing outta the darkness and thunked right into the wall, so close to his arm that if he leaned the wrong way even a little, he came right up against the blade. Dean tried to move his arm but it'd gone right through his jacket and was in there real good. Hurriedly trying to reach around, he couldn't get a good grip on the hilt from this angle. He grunted out a "I'm fine!" to Sam as he unsheathed his bowie knife. Wasn't exactly keen on the idea about cutting his jacket to pieces but if it was between him breathing and his jacket getting trashed, then the jacket was gonna be the one to go.
Dean sawed at the leather, a part of him half-waiting for another sword to spin outta the darkness and not miss this time just 'cause of freak luck. He went at it furiously, ignoring his arm when it grazed up against the edge of the blade and predictably began to bleed. It only took a few seconds but the adrenaline high was making it seem like that was already too damn long. His arm suddenly came free as he sliced through his sleeve and he immediately threw himself to the side to present a moving target instead of a pinned one.
His flashlight bobbed around jerkily. It flashed over Dead and Loving It's body a distance away, hovering but still too close for his liking, and - and Sam wasn't further ahead of him down the hall like he'd expected. Dean saw then that Ruby had been tagged, his brother at the other hunter's side. This was one of the times were being a giant was helping, 'cause Sam was practically carrying Ruby at this point. Dean made the decision then to keep to his side and try his best to keep Dead and Loving It's attention split. He made another move to go down the opposite side of her. Taunting a ghost wasn't gonna do much, so he didn't bother. Presenting a target still up and moving worked, though.
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Except that suddenly it was like she was playing for the other team.
Her leg was bleeding fairly heavily, soaking what remained of her pantleg in enough blood that it made moving even more difficult. It slowed her down enough that there was basically nothing she could do to avoid the other swords. Sam's weight on one side, propping her up, limited the ways she could move. The first sword got her leg just above the knee, the second on her hip.
"I'm going to kill that bitch," she gasped. Iron and salt and most of the other traditional ghost-hunting toolkit were off-limits to her, being a demon and all, but she'd think of something.
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Dean kept his distance from the other two and moved on quickly, as soon as he was free. The other two were slouching along, so she focused on them -- if one of the three escaped, she did not mind. If he was in any way associated with the other patients, then he might very well run on back.
A sword came swiping past Ruby's cheek directly after she spoke, almost close enough to nick her face without quite touching it. A taunt or a retort, perhaps. The blades that had clattered to the floor all rose at once and made to encircle the slow moving targets, hissing out furious human whispers as they moved to gather together and close off escape, sharp ends pointing in.
There was an opening, but Ruby and Sam would have to be quick.
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With all the action and distractions with, you know, deadly projectiles, he hadn't caught it at first, but he could hear it now. Whispering, quiet but audible, and almost snakelike, and he thought: Great, it comes with sound effects.
A scrape along the floor as the swords started to shudder upright. He hesitated for a split second, searching frantically for an option that wouldn't get them skewered in ten different places, and he didn't hesitate when he spotted their only shot. A gap, maybe not even large enough, but they'd live, and that was all he'd ask for.
He pushed Ruby ahead as much as he could while still supporting her, moving fast and hoping to hell that Dean would be right behind them.
[assuming it's cool for us to escape? D: moving here, if so.]
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