30 Days of Hell - Hunger
Title: Hunger
Author: yourrighteye
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Rated R overall
Wordcount: 563
Warnings: AU from "No Rest for the Wicked", graphic torture, gore, death
Spoilers: Major spoilers up to and including 'All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1'
Disclaimer: All characters represented in this fic are not mine and are only being played with for my own enjoyment. So, no profit is being made from coming up with inventive ways to torture Dean! Yay! (I don't know what I was thinking, honestly).
Summary: The figure approaches, and he hears its heartbeat.
A/N: Okay, so I wrote this for Mini-Nano. And I did one every day for most of the month. But half of them really sucked and I decided not to post until now, because I suck. They'll be coming up sporadically as I polish and rewrite them, and then I will have a shiny, shiny masterpost. *glee* They do not have to be read chronologically, because they have not been written chronologically.
Hunger
Hunger.
It knaws at him, eats at his insides, worse than even the knives and whips and brands he has become accustomed to. He never knew you could go so, so hungry in Hell. Hungry enough to keen, to wail, to scream, to beg, to fall and writhe in the agony of it, in the burn of it.
Hungry. He's so hungry.
The figure comes after seems like an eternity after it begins, a shape in the red haze of his prison, impossible to make out with all that's left of his vision, distant and unfamiliar. He knows where it is, though, because he hears its heart, beating a strong, steady rhythm beneath sultry flesh.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
At its approach he feels his mouth water, and he claws out desperately at it, wanting it, anything to stop the hunger, but at this realization he recoils, in disgust at himself with what rationality he has left. He can't help his hunger, though. It continues to tear at his mind, twisting his thoughts, clouding his reason. Driving him to madness slowly, from the inside.
He knows he soon will break.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
A faint, distant memory arises within him, the barest whisp of remembrance, of a man dead at his knife. A man dead because of his hunger for flesh.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
Because of his hunger, he had to be killed. And now justice shall be served, for the killer of the man hungry for flesh will be damned to the same hunger himself, and the hunter will die as something he had once hunted.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
There is no day or night in Hell, but the hunger only grows stronger as time passes, and what might have just been minutes stretch into decades, centuries, millenia. It seems that an impossibly long time before the figure finally come close enough to see, to smell, to touch. Oh god, to taste...
Thumpthump.
He groans his anguish, and it seems that strength is sapping from his bones, and he needs, and he when he finally senses its approach he's barely felt its soft touch on him before he's twisting, feral, and he's sinking his teeth into willing meat, blood welling into his mouth, and it feels like heaven, and now he's ripping, tearing skin from muscle, muscle from bone, finding strength, barely registering the screams coming from his food, his flesh, his meat.
And then it speaks.
"D-Dean..."
His name. It spoke his name.
No sooner does this thought run through his mind that his feels the scarlet blood running down his arms, through his fingers, trickling down his chin and smeared over his face, the shredded skin trapped in his teeth, the hard digging of fingernails into his chest, attempting to hold him back.
He realizes what he's done.
"No. No. N-no." His words are thick, hoarse, choked from the blood still in his throat, oozing from his mouth. "No, no, no, no, no, no...."
Mary Winchester's green eyes are dimming, clouding over as they hold Dean's gaze. Blood is congealing thickly at the gaping wound at her belly, and the tears made into her chest from Dean's fingernails as he'd struggled desperately to get at what had been withheld from him for what seems like eternity.
"Dean..." Her last breath leaves her like a rattling wind, and she dies a second time, in Dean's arms.
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Author: yourrighteye
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Rated R overall
Wordcount: 563
Warnings: AU from "No Rest for the Wicked", graphic torture, gore, death
Spoilers: Major spoilers up to and including 'All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1'
Disclaimer: All characters represented in this fic are not mine and are only being played with for my own enjoyment. So, no profit is being made from coming up with inventive ways to torture Dean! Yay! (I don't know what I was thinking, honestly).
Summary: The figure approaches, and he hears its heartbeat.
A/N: Okay, so I wrote this for Mini-Nano. And I did one every day for most of the month. But half of them really sucked and I decided not to post until now, because I suck. They'll be coming up sporadically as I polish and rewrite them, and then I will have a shiny, shiny masterpost. *glee* They do not have to be read chronologically, because they have not been written chronologically.
Hunger
Hunger.
It knaws at him, eats at his insides, worse than even the knives and whips and brands he has become accustomed to. He never knew you could go so, so hungry in Hell. Hungry enough to keen, to wail, to scream, to beg, to fall and writhe in the agony of it, in the burn of it.
Hungry. He's so hungry.
The figure comes after seems like an eternity after it begins, a shape in the red haze of his prison, impossible to make out with all that's left of his vision, distant and unfamiliar. He knows where it is, though, because he hears its heart, beating a strong, steady rhythm beneath sultry flesh.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
At its approach he feels his mouth water, and he claws out desperately at it, wanting it, anything to stop the hunger, but at this realization he recoils, in disgust at himself with what rationality he has left. He can't help his hunger, though. It continues to tear at his mind, twisting his thoughts, clouding his reason. Driving him to madness slowly, from the inside.
He knows he soon will break.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
A faint, distant memory arises within him, the barest whisp of remembrance, of a man dead at his knife. A man dead because of his hunger for flesh.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
Because of his hunger, he had to be killed. And now justice shall be served, for the killer of the man hungry for flesh will be damned to the same hunger himself, and the hunter will die as something he had once hunted.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
There is no day or night in Hell, but the hunger only grows stronger as time passes, and what might have just been minutes stretch into decades, centuries, millenia. It seems that an impossibly long time before the figure finally come close enough to see, to smell, to touch. Oh god, to taste...
Thumpthump.
He groans his anguish, and it seems that strength is sapping from his bones, and he needs, and he when he finally senses its approach he's barely felt its soft touch on him before he's twisting, feral, and he's sinking his teeth into willing meat, blood welling into his mouth, and it feels like heaven, and now he's ripping, tearing skin from muscle, muscle from bone, finding strength, barely registering the screams coming from his food, his flesh, his meat.
And then it speaks.
"D-Dean..."
His name. It spoke his name.
No sooner does this thought run through his mind that his feels the scarlet blood running down his arms, through his fingers, trickling down his chin and smeared over his face, the shredded skin trapped in his teeth, the hard digging of fingernails into his chest, attempting to hold him back.
He realizes what he's done.
"No. No. N-no." His words are thick, hoarse, choked from the blood still in his throat, oozing from his mouth. "No, no, no, no, no, no...."
Mary Winchester's green eyes are dimming, clouding over as they hold Dean's gaze. Blood is congealing thickly at the gaping wound at her belly, and the tears made into her chest from Dean's fingernails as he'd struggled desperately to get at what had been withheld from him for what seems like eternity.
"Dean..." Her last breath leaves her like a rattling wind, and she dies a second time, in Dean's arms.
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