Facing Hell..a Supernatural Story
.Title: Facing Hell
Author: justpickaname
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nobody, nohow at, around, or inside Supernatural. Wish I did though....
Rating: Adult for violence, gore.
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby, Ruby, Lilith, Bela
Warnings: Spoilers for season 3, goes AU after that.
Summary: Something was coming…and Dean felt relief…
“Sam!” Dean mewled. It was supposed to be a yell but his voice had given out days ago and still he hung, painfully, midair. Blood drip, drip, dripping into the vast expanse of eternity below him. Over him. Encompassing him. He tried counting the seconds, then the minutes until he heard those drops hit the ground but he always lost count; never heard the telltale plop.
Hunger gnawed at his belly, long since emptied of its contents during the first few hours in hell. He’d tried to hold it back but the stench; the distant screaming bouncing hollowly around him had shot through his body, repulsing it and causing a violent upheaval of said contents. The air crackled around him; violent sparks of festering reds and puss filled yellows popping around him, releasing eye watering fumes. Dean thought his nose would have been used to the stench by now but each explosion released a new sensation burning into his nostrils
And them a thrum. And another. Pluck, pluck went the lines extending from his exhausted body.
Something was coming.
Pluck, pluck. Again it vibrated from line, to hook, to body.
Something was coming…and Dean felt relief… Fear. Dean whimpered “ Sammy?” and was amazed he still had enough moisture in his mouth to form the name.
“No,” came a sibilant whisper, choked with decay, “Not Sammy. Sam. Samuel.”
First one long clawed appendage appeared, then another. The creature swayed closer, balancing on the line effortlessly. Dean craned his neck to see it and had to stop, the hooks pulling cruelly on his flesh. He hissed in pain. The…thing…came closer. Its whispers filling the space around him, ringing in his ears.
“Pretty, pretty pet,” it cooed as it came closer and Dean really would scream if it started calling him, “its preciousssss.” It was close enough now that he could see it was the size of a small car, one of those puissant Smart Cars yet. Its body was swollen and misshapen, weeping sores evident along its underside as it came close enough to crouch over him. Its weight adding excruciating tension to the lines attached to his body. The odour from its decaying mass was enough to squeeze needed moisture from his eyes.
It’s leg bolted out and stopped centimetres from his head…clawed hand slowly drifting to the top of his head where it gently caressed a groove into Deans’ skull. Dean grunted in pain.
The blood flowed.
The giant spider; and it was evident to Dean that that is what it must be, lunged its head towards him. The face was vile to look at. It was vaguely humanoid in appearance, in that it had eyes, a nose and a mouth. There the resemblance ended. Its eyes were perfectly round and violet hued; bloodshot, with vertical slits for pupils, the nose was squashed almost flat to its head and wide enough to reach from cheekbone to cheekbone and its mouth? It’s mouth was round, filled with hook shaped teeth. It reminded Dean of a sucker fish he’d seen once, only with really, really sharp teeth. Its face was so pale it seemed to glow in the darkness; fine veins spidering through its skin, pulsing a dark viscous fluid through them. Droplets of spittle dripped onto Dean’s face, his skin crackling from the burns it caused.
“Guess you never heard of a toothbrush?” Dean asked, gasping away from the fetid breath puffing into his face. .
“Hello Dean,” It said smugly. “Seems little Sammy couldn’t save you in time after all.” It jerked its head disturbingly insect like, from side to side as it talked. No. Not talked. Projected straight into his brain, images playing through him as it insinuated itself into his head. “It was fun playing with Samuel after you were gone Dean,” It grinned cruelly, mouth pulling up its taut skin into a caricature of a gleeful child at play. Images of Sam being flung about; blood dripping from his nose, bruises forming on his face as he crashed into furniture. The devastation of losing Dean all too evident on his face even as he fell into unconsciousness.
“No,” gasped Dean; pain so plain on his face that the creature laughed in delight. He realized quickly that this was Lilith and fear curled into his stomach, latching on and pulling painfully at him. “No,” he croaked painfully, “ You bitch, you made a deal. Sammy’s soul for mine…”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Lilith interrupted. “ Who said hell was fair? Don’t look at me like that darling, I left him alive. Barely.” she chuckled, “He’ll probably live,” She finished glibly.
Dean turned his head towards Lilith and she swooped her head down, obscenely long thin tongue darting out, licking a few droplets of blood off Deans’ face, then lapping like a dog licking gravy out of a bowl. Then she latched on, sank those fishhooks into Dean’s scalp and the world went dark…
With a jolt; Dean was suddenly standing in bright sunlight, on a tree branch, looking down into Sam’s sun dappled face. Sam’s six year old face. Dean realized he was in his ten year old body and tried to talk to Sam. Tell him to get safe but he had no control over his words.
“Come on Sammy,” he wheedled, “ don’t be such a baby. Come on…climb up and get me you big whiner.”
Sam took a visible breath and grasped the hand Dean offered. Dean pulled him up beside him and smiled at Sam’s triumphant face gazing back at him. Then he climbed higher and climbed successively higher still, pulling Sam up behind him until they were perched precariously on a branch barely strong enough to hold their combined weight.
“See,” he said, pushing playfully at Sam, “ I told you it would be safe..” Sam started, not expecting the shove and overcompensated for the push. He wind milled his arms frantically as he started to fall back, off the branch. Dean grabbed for him desperately and managed to snag his shirtsleeve but it tore out of his grasp and Sam crashed down, through the branches, crying out in pain as he fell. Dean heard a dull wet thump and then silence.
“Sammy?” Dean cried out tremulously, as he scrambled in a panic to reach the ground. He landed with a thud beside his brothers prone body. Sam’s head was wrenched into an awkward angle, blood oozing out of his nose. “No, no, no, Sammy?” Deans voice quavered, his heart hammering in his chest “You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’ll get dad, okay Sammy?” His hands hovered protectively over his little brothers broken body. Sam didn’t answer. Sam couldn’t answer. Sam was dead.
Dean looked up, face painted in grief, as a shadow loomed over him. “Dad,” he started, “ I didn’t mean to let this happen…I’m sorry” he whispered desperately.
“I give you one job Dean,” his dad growled, “ one job! Take care of Sam…and this is what happens?” His dad shakes a finger accusingly at Dean, glaring pure venom at his eldest son.
And Dean opened his eyes to see a shadow still looming over him. Lilith. Aglow with contempt and cruelty. “ Oh Dean,” she drawled, “ you are going to taste so good,” and she flicked her tongue over her lips in anticipation. His pain is …delectable. And the drool, mingled with his blood, slid down her chin and hissed into Deans’ tormented face.
Author: justpickaname
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nobody, nohow at, around, or inside Supernatural. Wish I did though....
Rating: Adult for violence, gore.
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby, Ruby, Lilith, Bela
Warnings: Spoilers for season 3, goes AU after that.
Summary: Something was coming…and Dean felt relief…
“Sam!” Dean mewled. It was supposed to be a yell but his voice had given out days ago and still he hung, painfully, midair. Blood drip, drip, dripping into the vast expanse of eternity below him. Over him. Encompassing him. He tried counting the seconds, then the minutes until he heard those drops hit the ground but he always lost count; never heard the telltale plop.
Hunger gnawed at his belly, long since emptied of its contents during the first few hours in hell. He’d tried to hold it back but the stench; the distant screaming bouncing hollowly around him had shot through his body, repulsing it and causing a violent upheaval of said contents. The air crackled around him; violent sparks of festering reds and puss filled yellows popping around him, releasing eye watering fumes. Dean thought his nose would have been used to the stench by now but each explosion released a new sensation burning into his nostrils
And them a thrum. And another. Pluck, pluck went the lines extending from his exhausted body.
Something was coming.
Pluck, pluck. Again it vibrated from line, to hook, to body.
Something was coming…and Dean felt relief… Fear. Dean whimpered “ Sammy?” and was amazed he still had enough moisture in his mouth to form the name.
“No,” came a sibilant whisper, choked with decay, “Not Sammy. Sam. Samuel.”
First one long clawed appendage appeared, then another. The creature swayed closer, balancing on the line effortlessly. Dean craned his neck to see it and had to stop, the hooks pulling cruelly on his flesh. He hissed in pain. The…thing…came closer. Its whispers filling the space around him, ringing in his ears.
“Pretty, pretty pet,” it cooed as it came closer and Dean really would scream if it started calling him, “its preciousssss.” It was close enough now that he could see it was the size of a small car, one of those puissant Smart Cars yet. Its body was swollen and misshapen, weeping sores evident along its underside as it came close enough to crouch over him. Its weight adding excruciating tension to the lines attached to his body. The odour from its decaying mass was enough to squeeze needed moisture from his eyes.
It’s leg bolted out and stopped centimetres from his head…clawed hand slowly drifting to the top of his head where it gently caressed a groove into Deans’ skull. Dean grunted in pain.
The blood flowed.
The giant spider; and it was evident to Dean that that is what it must be, lunged its head towards him. The face was vile to look at. It was vaguely humanoid in appearance, in that it had eyes, a nose and a mouth. There the resemblance ended. Its eyes were perfectly round and violet hued; bloodshot, with vertical slits for pupils, the nose was squashed almost flat to its head and wide enough to reach from cheekbone to cheekbone and its mouth? It’s mouth was round, filled with hook shaped teeth. It reminded Dean of a sucker fish he’d seen once, only with really, really sharp teeth. Its face was so pale it seemed to glow in the darkness; fine veins spidering through its skin, pulsing a dark viscous fluid through them. Droplets of spittle dripped onto Dean’s face, his skin crackling from the burns it caused.
“Guess you never heard of a toothbrush?” Dean asked, gasping away from the fetid breath puffing into his face. .
“Hello Dean,” It said smugly. “Seems little Sammy couldn’t save you in time after all.” It jerked its head disturbingly insect like, from side to side as it talked. No. Not talked. Projected straight into his brain, images playing through him as it insinuated itself into his head. “It was fun playing with Samuel after you were gone Dean,” It grinned cruelly, mouth pulling up its taut skin into a caricature of a gleeful child at play. Images of Sam being flung about; blood dripping from his nose, bruises forming on his face as he crashed into furniture. The devastation of losing Dean all too evident on his face even as he fell into unconsciousness.
“No,” gasped Dean; pain so plain on his face that the creature laughed in delight. He realized quickly that this was Lilith and fear curled into his stomach, latching on and pulling painfully at him. “No,” he croaked painfully, “ You bitch, you made a deal. Sammy’s soul for mine…”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Lilith interrupted. “ Who said hell was fair? Don’t look at me like that darling, I left him alive. Barely.” she chuckled, “He’ll probably live,” She finished glibly.
Dean turned his head towards Lilith and she swooped her head down, obscenely long thin tongue darting out, licking a few droplets of blood off Deans’ face, then lapping like a dog licking gravy out of a bowl. Then she latched on, sank those fishhooks into Dean’s scalp and the world went dark…
With a jolt; Dean was suddenly standing in bright sunlight, on a tree branch, looking down into Sam’s sun dappled face. Sam’s six year old face. Dean realized he was in his ten year old body and tried to talk to Sam. Tell him to get safe but he had no control over his words.
“Come on Sammy,” he wheedled, “ don’t be such a baby. Come on…climb up and get me you big whiner.”
Sam took a visible breath and grasped the hand Dean offered. Dean pulled him up beside him and smiled at Sam’s triumphant face gazing back at him. Then he climbed higher and climbed successively higher still, pulling Sam up behind him until they were perched precariously on a branch barely strong enough to hold their combined weight.
“See,” he said, pushing playfully at Sam, “ I told you it would be safe..” Sam started, not expecting the shove and overcompensated for the push. He wind milled his arms frantically as he started to fall back, off the branch. Dean grabbed for him desperately and managed to snag his shirtsleeve but it tore out of his grasp and Sam crashed down, through the branches, crying out in pain as he fell. Dean heard a dull wet thump and then silence.
“Sammy?” Dean cried out tremulously, as he scrambled in a panic to reach the ground. He landed with a thud beside his brothers prone body. Sam’s head was wrenched into an awkward angle, blood oozing out of his nose. “No, no, no, Sammy?” Deans voice quavered, his heart hammering in his chest “You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’ll get dad, okay Sammy?” His hands hovered protectively over his little brothers broken body. Sam didn’t answer. Sam couldn’t answer. Sam was dead.
Dean looked up, face painted in grief, as a shadow loomed over him. “Dad,” he started, “ I didn’t mean to let this happen…I’m sorry” he whispered desperately.
“I give you one job Dean,” his dad growled, “ one job! Take care of Sam…and this is what happens?” His dad shakes a finger accusingly at Dean, glaring pure venom at his eldest son.
And Dean opened his eyes to see a shadow still looming over him. Lilith. Aglow with contempt and cruelty. “ Oh Dean,” she drawled, “ you are going to taste so good,” and she flicked her tongue over her lips in anticipation. His pain is …delectable. And the drool, mingled with his blood, slid down her chin and hissed into Deans’ tormented face.