Fic: Crossover: Supernatural: Silent Hill: Dean, Cas (11/?)
A/N/Rambling: I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter; but after rewriting/editing it numerous times I think if I look at it any more i'll go insane :P So I'm posting it as is, and hopefully you guys don't hate it.
A bit more rambling: And a reminder that is AU on the Silent Hill front: as the fact that I've pretty much taken Silent hill canon and tossed it in a blender, beat it with a rock, and stomped on it a few times :) will become quite evident from this point on.
Now i'll shut-up so you can read what you actually came here to read :)
Title: Supernatural: Silent Hill
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 11/? (still editing/writing, but i'm almost positive it'll be 15 total)
Warnings: gore, blood, disturbing imagery, violence, language
Genre: Crossover/AU on the silent hill front
Spoilers: season five Supernatural, Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games.
Characters: Focus on Dean and Castiel friendship or pre-slash depending on your preference, but some Sam and Bobby as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Silent Hill, I'm only playing with them.
A/N: I blatantly steal elements/scenarios from the Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games, but I've also created some of my own canon/expanded/changed characters and other elements to create an insane trip to Silent Hill tailor made for Dean and Cas, hence the AU part of this fic.
Special Thanks: to my beta skylar_matthews
Summary: Dean and Cas get trapped in Silent Hill. Sam and Bobby are on the outside trying to find them - will they find a way out...
Word Count: 3,207 (total 41,061 total)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Dean followed Dhalia onto the porch of the one-story home she‘d insisted on taking him to; it hadn’t been a far walk from the yard he’d cornered her in, only a few houses further up the road.
She’d refused to share anything else until they were ‘someplace safe.’
He’d relented after realizing arguing with a moderately unstable person didn‘t get you anywhere fast. At this point he was willing to do anything to make her talk faster. He had to find Cas, and he had to know what he was up against. This woman could probably help him with both of those problems if he could keep her focused and coherent long enough.
Dean hesitated at the threshold of the door, knife ready to tear into anyone that didn’t have his best interests at heart.
Dean honestly didn’t think this woman had a strike team waiting inside, but he wasn’t planning on getting ambushed again. He’d checked the place out as soon as they‘d arrived. Dean had peered into every window using his shirt to wipe away years of dust and other various substances; he’d gotten a good look at the place and its layout. There had been no sign of movement or any sign of a trap.
The place felt empty.
He’d still insisted Dhalia go in first.
He glanced both ways before following her inside; the place smelled stale and musty.
He’d made it two steps across the threshold before his face collided with a thick curtain of cobwebs. He cringed and wiped them away, checking around the next blind corner before proceeding.
Dean entered the kitchen. The table had been set for two people - awhile ago- the plates held rotting, maggot infested food that was unrecognizable in its current state. Dean swatted a fly away from his nose and walked down a narrow hallway, eyes and ears tracking everything, trailing close to Dhalila’s heels. They entered an opening to the left. Dean hugged the wall, and checked the room.
It held no surprises.
Dean found himself standing inside the living room. An ugly, lime green couch sat in the center, a small wooden, end table rested on each side, and shelves lined the walls. A few paintings hung from the walls, showing scenes of mountain ranges and lakes. Whoever had lived here had been a fan of the great outdoors.
Dean tried not to show his impatience as they sat down on the dusty, old couch.
She looked down at her hands as she finally started to speak. Her tone was almost robotic, detached. “Thirty years ago certain members of this town tried to release an ancient being known as Valtiel; whom they believed was a god,“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “They wanted their god to be able to walk among our world again.”
“And let me guess; someone had to die for this to happen, “ Dean growled, he hated cults.
She nodded. “The ritual required a blood sacrifice.”
Dean felt his chest tighten. He needed more information, if this thing was a god, it was going to be hard as hell to kill. He was familiar with quite a few of the pagan gods, but that name wasn’t ringing any bells. “How’d they hear about this thing?
She shifted on the couch, her expression uneasy. “An ancient text that was passed down through generations to certain members of The Order.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “The what?”
“The name of the religious group that founded this town.” Dhalia crooked her neck.
AKA: The bastards who took Cas. “Any chance I can see this book?” Dean tried, there was always the possibility a way to kill the thing might be recorded.
“No. The Order had the only copy in existence. I don’t know where they keep it.”
Of course it couldn’t be that easy.
Stupid obscure cults and their stupid obscure gods. Bobby would hate to hear he had a big gaping hole in his occult library; might give the poor guy a heart attack.
Dean leaned forward. “But you had access to it - Dhalia this is important, was there anything written about how to kill it?”
She said nothing, just stared straight ahead at the wall in front of them, her breathing uneven.
Dammit. He didn‘t have time for this. “Dhalia do y-”
She cut him off; her detached tone had floated away and was replaced with barely contained emotion. “They told me it was for the good of all of us, that once Valtiel was freed from its banishment I would be rewarded,” her body tensed, her bottom lip quivered.
Wow, random.
“Rewarded for what?” Dean could sense a breakdown; he tried to keep her focused, keep her talking.
“They stole her from me,” her voice shook right along with the rest of her body.
Dean swallowed down his confusion and discomfort, reminded himself Cas needed him, and reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her muscles bunched under his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
“My daughter,” she whispered. “I tried to stop them, but there were too many.”
Dean finally started to understand this train wreck of a woman. Damn. No wonder she‘s such a mess. Dean squeezed her trembling shoulder.
“In the end it was for nothing. The ritual failed, but we were pulled inside this nightmare for our sins; forced to live among that thing they still worship.”
Dean shook his head; his brain reeling- he focused on the one thing he was sure he understood. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”
“I deserve to be here,” she spat, her fingers digging into her knees. “I failed her.”
Dean knew nothing he said would change how this woman felt. He understood what it was to feel guilt over not saving a loved one - how much it ate you up inside - how it festered. Instead of trying to feed her some bullshit line about how everything would be okay, he decided to give her something else to think about. “Dhalia. What is this place?”
She gave him a broken, bitter laugh. “Hell.”
The word slapped him in the face.
Dean tried not to notice the trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades, or the way his heart quickened, or how the echo of voices pleading for mercy swirled around in his brain.
The memories of his years in hell kept trying to rise up and overwhelm him. Silent Hill had a way of drudging up shit he did not want to think about.
He held them at bay, but he could still feel them scratching, looking for a chink in his armor.
She rubbed at her eyes, the laughter dried up. “Truly, I don’t know, but Valtiel referred to it as its own personal prison.”
Freaking great. Me and Cas have been sucked into some powerful being‘s tailor made Alcatraz.
Dean cleared his throat, hating to ask, but needing to know. “You said the ritual failed…do you know why?”
Dhalia shuddered, another tear leaked out. “They chose my daughter because the text stated the ritual required the blood of someone pure. They believed that meant a virgin.” She stood up and walked across the room, picking something up off a shelf that hung from the wall, it looked like a necklace. “Apparently, my daughter wasn‘t pure enough.” Her fingers clenched around the object so tightly her knuckles shone white.
Dean felt a headache coming on - his fingers dug into the cushions of the couch. What was more pure than an innocent child? Dean could only think of one thing.
An angel of the lord.
This fucking thing wanted to sacrifice Cas in some kind of supernatural jailbreak.
Unbelievable. They could not catch a break.
Dhalia sat back down next to him.
“The creature must believe your friends blood will allow it to escape,” she paused, “he must be very special.”
She glanced at Dean, her eyes sad, and haunted.
Dean managed a stiff nod; his mouth had turned to cotton.
She didn’t press him for any other information as her fingers caressed the jewelry she’d retrieved. “And if the ritual is successful, those who still worship it, think that thing will bring them along.”
“But you don’t,” Dean pressed.
“Why would it? Once it’s free, what use would it have for any of us?”
Good point. So this Valtiel is probably just using these fanatics. Dean filed that interesting tidbit away for possible further use.
Dhalia seemed to have checked out again, she was rocking back and forth, her hands clasped together in front of her. Dean could see a silver chain dangling from her interlaced fingers.
“Dhalia, listen to me.” Dean grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Where can I find Valtiel?”
She lifted her hand and offered him the silver necklace. A locket dangled at the end of the chain.
“This was our home,” she breathed while Dean opened it.
There was a picture inside. Dean felt as if he were seeing a ghost. It was the young girl with the pale skin and dark hair. The one he’d almost collided with on the bridge.
“That was my daughter. Her name was Alessa.” Dean had to strain to hear each word, her head was bent forward and her filthy hair hid her expression.
“I’ve seen her.” Dean felt his skin crawl as the young girls deep brown eyes stared up at him from the photo.
“No, you haven’t.” Dhalia’s head tilted and her eyes came to rest on the picture.
Dean’s headache was getting worse.
“What you saw was Valtiel,” she continued softly.
“Your daughters been possessed?” Dean blurted, a twinge of excitement building in his gut. Maybe this thing was just a juiced up demon- that he knew how to deal with.
Dhalia met his eyes and continued speaking as if she hadn‘t heard him. “After the ritual failed, Valtiel was not pleased. It can choose to appear however it wants, so it chose to parade around looking like my daughter as a constant torment for me.” She paused, took a deep breath. “What you saw was that thing, toying with you. As it has me for thirty years.”
What a sick, twisted fuck. Whatever this Valtiel was, god, demon, ancient evil cocker spaniel; he didn’t care. It was going to die.
“Dhalia,” he tried again. “Do you know how to kill it?”
A slow shake of her head. “No.”
Did you actually expect it to be that easy?
Dean groaned inwardly. Now he just needed to rescue Cas, and figure out how to kill a creature powerful enough to warrant its own private hellmouth.
No problem.
“But I do know something that might be useful.”
Dean blinked and waited - then waited some more. “You gonna make me play twenty questions?” he prompted, trying to keep the impatience out of his tone.
“Before the ceremony was performed, it was rehearsed many times. Claudia was insistent that no errors could be made. She said if anything went wrong during it - our god would be greatly weakened.”
Dean licked his lips and felt a bit of hope spark. Finally, a piece of good news. “So basically, if I go in there and start breaking anything that looks important, I might be able to kill her then.”
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her hands. “I think, at the very least, while the abomination is recovering, it might give you time to save your friend.”
It was better than nothing.
“Do you know where they would have taken my friend?”
She nodded, rising to her feet. “Come with me.”
*****
Cas lifted his head, trying to keep her in view as she started circling him again. He felt like a caged animal.
She smiled, it was terrifying. “I’ve been watching you for awhile Castiel. I may not be able to leave this place I was unjustly imprisoned in, but I can peer through the veil.”
It seemed he and Dean weren’t the only ones trapped in this bizarre reality.
Cas didn‘t interrupt with the million questions that exploded inside his head, he wanted her to keep on bragging, she might say something that could help him figure out how to defeat her; or help him escape.
“Sometimes I can even bring things from the outside world here.”
“Like me and Dean,” Cas tried to sound impressed, feed her obviously enlarged ego.
“Exactly, sadly most are smart enough to stay away.” She stuck her lower lip out; bitch was really playing up this child image she’d concocted.
The townsfolk’s strange reaction to Dean asking about Silent Hill started making a lot more sense. They were probably picking up on the feeling of wrongness this place emitted; they’d learned to steer clear of it. He knew Dean had felt it; his friend had been more on edge than he’d ever seen him. Cas swallowed; he’d noticed it as well. He’d just chosen to ignore it in favor of helping his surrogate family.
“We‘re in some alternate layer of reality aren‘t we?” Cas guessed.
“I prefer to call it the Otherworld, but yes, my own private hell to play around in.”
Cas wondered why whomever or whatever had trapped her here, hadn’t just killed her.
Maybe they couldn’t.
This thing had overpowered him at every turn; she was strong enough to get inside his head, make him hallucinate and cause him to experience an entirely new level of agony. His grace was almost useless in her presence. This might have been their only solution. Judging by the power she was radiating, Cas guessed she was older than him.
A lot older.
No matter what she actually was, this thing was incredibly powerful, and incredibly dangerous.
If she got out; the apocalypse might be the least of their worries.
She skipped back over to his side. “But now I’m bored.”
“Well, that‘s a shame,” Cas quipped, allowing his ever developing sarcastic side to emerge.
Valtiel patted his arm. “You are very strange for an angel of the lord,” she spat the last word, as if it tasted toxic coming out. “Rebelling against heaven, forming attachments to humans; but it also made you the perfect solution to my little problem.”
Cas cocked his head and tried to keep his expression neutral. “How so?”
She gave him a pitying look. “Because humans are pathetic, predictable creatures. I knew if I used their father as bait, they’d come. And I knew they’d go running straight to their loyal angel lap dog for help.”
Cas narrowed his eyes and felt his muscles tighten.
Her hand pressed against his chest, he felt his grace quiver, pain lanced through his body, but he didn‘t flinch. “And I knew because of your bond with Dean, you‘d never say no.” She let her hand linger, amusement dancing behind her dark eyes. Cas clenched his teeth and rode out the pain.
She pulled away, a small smirk on her lips. “I really like you Castiel, but sadly, your blood is the key to my release.”
Cas refused to let the panic that was struggling to emerge get the better of him, he focused on something else, something very important to his friends.
“Do you have John Winchester?” Cas kept his voice low, controlled. He didn’t think she did, this had all been a game of chess, and Dean’s father would have been an unnecessary pawn on the board. The letter would have been sufficient, but he needed to be sure.
Her pupils contracted and she scrutinized his face as if Cas was a foreign language she couldn’t quite figure out.
“You’re about to die Castiel, is that really what matters to you?”
“Since I’m about to die, what’s the harm in answering?” He went still, watching her.
She shrugged, smirked, and replied. “No,” while gesturing with her hands at something behind Cas’s head.
Cas had a moment to feel relief before he heard footsteps and two hooded figures stepped out from somewhere behind him. Cas wasn’t sure if they’d just come in, or if they’d been standing there silently the entire time.
This couldn’t be good.
Cas cocked his head and tried to stall, ignoring the fear snaking up his spine. “I’m curious, how‘d you get that letter to Dean?”
“Let‘s just say there are occasions when I can do a bit more than peer through the veil.” She winked at him, lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, like they were best buddies. “Small things can sometimes slip through the cracks.”
Cas glared at her, wishing he could wipe that smug grin off her face, and tried something else. “Why not grab me the moment I arrived; why wait?”
“Because you both were so much fun to play with,” she purred. “Didn’t you enjoy meeting my pets?”
Cas lifted his chin and started to reply when Valtiel froze, her pupils expanded, and her body started to vibrate.
What now?
“It seems we have unwanted visitors approaching,” She put her hands on her hips, her face twisted into a frown.
Cas felt a mixture of affection and anger. Dean. You idiot. Why didn’t you leave?
“It seems your human is determined to die today,” She made a tsk-tsk sound. “And after how hard you worked to keep him alive. It’s a shame really.”
“You have me, you don’t need to hurt him.” Cas struggled against his bonds, ignoring the pain as the rope tore into his already bruised skin.
Valtiel ignored him, her eyes closed and she went eerily still. Cas felt a vile, energy creep out into the room. He watched in astonishment as the walls began to erode. Blood stains became visible on the floor and ceiling. She was doing this, all of it. What the hell was this thing?
She opened her eyes, smiled at the now blood splattered room, and said. “It’s time.”
Each robed cultist took a bowl, they both walked to one side of the altar Cas was strapped to, and set a bowl down on the ground. Cas felt his fear start to break through the dam he‘d been struggling to keep it locked behind, he managed to swallow most of it back down.
“What did you do?”
Valtiel stood in front of him, her expression manic. “Sent out the welcoming committee.”
Cas’s heart lurched and his grace ached; he prayed Dean found a way to survive whatever evil she sent his way.
One of the robed figures vanished from Cas’s sight, the other stood in front of the small table and grabbed the book; the hood fell back.
It was Walter.
Bastard.
He opened it and waited, his eyes shimmering with impatience.
She walked to his left side first, stroking his very exposed wrist. Cas noticed for the first time that he’d been tied in such a way that his wrist and hand hung off the edge of the table, palm up. Perfect to catch his blood in the bowls that now rested on the floor.
The dam started to crack, his chest tightened as fear trickled through, weaving into his veins, growing with each pump of his heart.
Valtiel pressed the dagger to his flesh and started to cut.
Next chapter
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are loved; it's nice to know if anyone's still reading/enjoying.
A bit more rambling: And a reminder that is AU on the Silent Hill front: as the fact that I've pretty much taken Silent hill canon and tossed it in a blender, beat it with a rock, and stomped on it a few times :) will become quite evident from this point on.
Now i'll shut-up so you can read what you actually came here to read :)
Title: Supernatural: Silent Hill
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 11/? (still editing/writing, but i'm almost positive it'll be 15 total)
Warnings: gore, blood, disturbing imagery, violence, language
Genre: Crossover/AU on the silent hill front
Spoilers: season five Supernatural, Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games.
Characters: Focus on Dean and Castiel friendship or pre-slash depending on your preference, but some Sam and Bobby as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Silent Hill, I'm only playing with them.
A/N: I blatantly steal elements/scenarios from the Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games, but I've also created some of my own canon/expanded/changed characters and other elements to create an insane trip to Silent Hill tailor made for Dean and Cas, hence the AU part of this fic.
Special Thanks: to my beta skylar_matthews
Summary: Dean and Cas get trapped in Silent Hill. Sam and Bobby are on the outside trying to find them - will they find a way out...
Word Count: 3,207 (total 41,061 total)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Dean followed Dhalia onto the porch of the one-story home she‘d insisted on taking him to; it hadn’t been a far walk from the yard he’d cornered her in, only a few houses further up the road.
She’d refused to share anything else until they were ‘someplace safe.’
He’d relented after realizing arguing with a moderately unstable person didn‘t get you anywhere fast. At this point he was willing to do anything to make her talk faster. He had to find Cas, and he had to know what he was up against. This woman could probably help him with both of those problems if he could keep her focused and coherent long enough.
Dean hesitated at the threshold of the door, knife ready to tear into anyone that didn’t have his best interests at heart.
Dean honestly didn’t think this woman had a strike team waiting inside, but he wasn’t planning on getting ambushed again. He’d checked the place out as soon as they‘d arrived. Dean had peered into every window using his shirt to wipe away years of dust and other various substances; he’d gotten a good look at the place and its layout. There had been no sign of movement or any sign of a trap.
The place felt empty.
He’d still insisted Dhalia go in first.
He glanced both ways before following her inside; the place smelled stale and musty.
He’d made it two steps across the threshold before his face collided with a thick curtain of cobwebs. He cringed and wiped them away, checking around the next blind corner before proceeding.
Dean entered the kitchen. The table had been set for two people - awhile ago- the plates held rotting, maggot infested food that was unrecognizable in its current state. Dean swatted a fly away from his nose and walked down a narrow hallway, eyes and ears tracking everything, trailing close to Dhalila’s heels. They entered an opening to the left. Dean hugged the wall, and checked the room.
It held no surprises.
Dean found himself standing inside the living room. An ugly, lime green couch sat in the center, a small wooden, end table rested on each side, and shelves lined the walls. A few paintings hung from the walls, showing scenes of mountain ranges and lakes. Whoever had lived here had been a fan of the great outdoors.
Dean tried not to show his impatience as they sat down on the dusty, old couch.
She looked down at her hands as she finally started to speak. Her tone was almost robotic, detached. “Thirty years ago certain members of this town tried to release an ancient being known as Valtiel; whom they believed was a god,“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “They wanted their god to be able to walk among our world again.”
“And let me guess; someone had to die for this to happen, “ Dean growled, he hated cults.
She nodded. “The ritual required a blood sacrifice.”
Dean felt his chest tighten. He needed more information, if this thing was a god, it was going to be hard as hell to kill. He was familiar with quite a few of the pagan gods, but that name wasn’t ringing any bells. “How’d they hear about this thing?
She shifted on the couch, her expression uneasy. “An ancient text that was passed down through generations to certain members of The Order.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “The what?”
“The name of the religious group that founded this town.” Dhalia crooked her neck.
AKA: The bastards who took Cas. “Any chance I can see this book?” Dean tried, there was always the possibility a way to kill the thing might be recorded.
“No. The Order had the only copy in existence. I don’t know where they keep it.”
Of course it couldn’t be that easy.
Stupid obscure cults and their stupid obscure gods. Bobby would hate to hear he had a big gaping hole in his occult library; might give the poor guy a heart attack.
Dean leaned forward. “But you had access to it - Dhalia this is important, was there anything written about how to kill it?”
She said nothing, just stared straight ahead at the wall in front of them, her breathing uneven.
Dammit. He didn‘t have time for this. “Dhalia do y-”
She cut him off; her detached tone had floated away and was replaced with barely contained emotion. “They told me it was for the good of all of us, that once Valtiel was freed from its banishment I would be rewarded,” her body tensed, her bottom lip quivered.
Wow, random.
“Rewarded for what?” Dean could sense a breakdown; he tried to keep her focused, keep her talking.
“They stole her from me,” her voice shook right along with the rest of her body.
Dean swallowed down his confusion and discomfort, reminded himself Cas needed him, and reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her muscles bunched under his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
“My daughter,” she whispered. “I tried to stop them, but there were too many.”
Dean finally started to understand this train wreck of a woman. Damn. No wonder she‘s such a mess. Dean squeezed her trembling shoulder.
“In the end it was for nothing. The ritual failed, but we were pulled inside this nightmare for our sins; forced to live among that thing they still worship.”
Dean shook his head; his brain reeling- he focused on the one thing he was sure he understood. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”
“I deserve to be here,” she spat, her fingers digging into her knees. “I failed her.”
Dean knew nothing he said would change how this woman felt. He understood what it was to feel guilt over not saving a loved one - how much it ate you up inside - how it festered. Instead of trying to feed her some bullshit line about how everything would be okay, he decided to give her something else to think about. “Dhalia. What is this place?”
She gave him a broken, bitter laugh. “Hell.”
The word slapped him in the face.
Dean tried not to notice the trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades, or the way his heart quickened, or how the echo of voices pleading for mercy swirled around in his brain.
The memories of his years in hell kept trying to rise up and overwhelm him. Silent Hill had a way of drudging up shit he did not want to think about.
He held them at bay, but he could still feel them scratching, looking for a chink in his armor.
She rubbed at her eyes, the laughter dried up. “Truly, I don’t know, but Valtiel referred to it as its own personal prison.”
Freaking great. Me and Cas have been sucked into some powerful being‘s tailor made Alcatraz.
Dean cleared his throat, hating to ask, but needing to know. “You said the ritual failed…do you know why?”
Dhalia shuddered, another tear leaked out. “They chose my daughter because the text stated the ritual required the blood of someone pure. They believed that meant a virgin.” She stood up and walked across the room, picking something up off a shelf that hung from the wall, it looked like a necklace. “Apparently, my daughter wasn‘t pure enough.” Her fingers clenched around the object so tightly her knuckles shone white.
Dean felt a headache coming on - his fingers dug into the cushions of the couch. What was more pure than an innocent child? Dean could only think of one thing.
An angel of the lord.
This fucking thing wanted to sacrifice Cas in some kind of supernatural jailbreak.
Unbelievable. They could not catch a break.
Dhalia sat back down next to him.
“The creature must believe your friends blood will allow it to escape,” she paused, “he must be very special.”
She glanced at Dean, her eyes sad, and haunted.
Dean managed a stiff nod; his mouth had turned to cotton.
She didn’t press him for any other information as her fingers caressed the jewelry she’d retrieved. “And if the ritual is successful, those who still worship it, think that thing will bring them along.”
“But you don’t,” Dean pressed.
“Why would it? Once it’s free, what use would it have for any of us?”
Good point. So this Valtiel is probably just using these fanatics. Dean filed that interesting tidbit away for possible further use.
Dhalia seemed to have checked out again, she was rocking back and forth, her hands clasped together in front of her. Dean could see a silver chain dangling from her interlaced fingers.
“Dhalia, listen to me.” Dean grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Where can I find Valtiel?”
She lifted her hand and offered him the silver necklace. A locket dangled at the end of the chain.
“This was our home,” she breathed while Dean opened it.
There was a picture inside. Dean felt as if he were seeing a ghost. It was the young girl with the pale skin and dark hair. The one he’d almost collided with on the bridge.
“That was my daughter. Her name was Alessa.” Dean had to strain to hear each word, her head was bent forward and her filthy hair hid her expression.
“I’ve seen her.” Dean felt his skin crawl as the young girls deep brown eyes stared up at him from the photo.
“No, you haven’t.” Dhalia’s head tilted and her eyes came to rest on the picture.
Dean’s headache was getting worse.
“What you saw was Valtiel,” she continued softly.
“Your daughters been possessed?” Dean blurted, a twinge of excitement building in his gut. Maybe this thing was just a juiced up demon- that he knew how to deal with.
Dhalia met his eyes and continued speaking as if she hadn‘t heard him. “After the ritual failed, Valtiel was not pleased. It can choose to appear however it wants, so it chose to parade around looking like my daughter as a constant torment for me.” She paused, took a deep breath. “What you saw was that thing, toying with you. As it has me for thirty years.”
What a sick, twisted fuck. Whatever this Valtiel was, god, demon, ancient evil cocker spaniel; he didn’t care. It was going to die.
“Dhalia,” he tried again. “Do you know how to kill it?”
A slow shake of her head. “No.”
Did you actually expect it to be that easy?
Dean groaned inwardly. Now he just needed to rescue Cas, and figure out how to kill a creature powerful enough to warrant its own private hellmouth.
No problem.
“But I do know something that might be useful.”
Dean blinked and waited - then waited some more. “You gonna make me play twenty questions?” he prompted, trying to keep the impatience out of his tone.
“Before the ceremony was performed, it was rehearsed many times. Claudia was insistent that no errors could be made. She said if anything went wrong during it - our god would be greatly weakened.”
Dean licked his lips and felt a bit of hope spark. Finally, a piece of good news. “So basically, if I go in there and start breaking anything that looks important, I might be able to kill her then.”
“I don’t know.” She looked down at her hands. “I think, at the very least, while the abomination is recovering, it might give you time to save your friend.”
It was better than nothing.
“Do you know where they would have taken my friend?”
She nodded, rising to her feet. “Come with me.”
*****
Cas lifted his head, trying to keep her in view as she started circling him again. He felt like a caged animal.
She smiled, it was terrifying. “I’ve been watching you for awhile Castiel. I may not be able to leave this place I was unjustly imprisoned in, but I can peer through the veil.”
It seemed he and Dean weren’t the only ones trapped in this bizarre reality.
Cas didn‘t interrupt with the million questions that exploded inside his head, he wanted her to keep on bragging, she might say something that could help him figure out how to defeat her; or help him escape.
“Sometimes I can even bring things from the outside world here.”
“Like me and Dean,” Cas tried to sound impressed, feed her obviously enlarged ego.
“Exactly, sadly most are smart enough to stay away.” She stuck her lower lip out; bitch was really playing up this child image she’d concocted.
The townsfolk’s strange reaction to Dean asking about Silent Hill started making a lot more sense. They were probably picking up on the feeling of wrongness this place emitted; they’d learned to steer clear of it. He knew Dean had felt it; his friend had been more on edge than he’d ever seen him. Cas swallowed; he’d noticed it as well. He’d just chosen to ignore it in favor of helping his surrogate family.
“We‘re in some alternate layer of reality aren‘t we?” Cas guessed.
“I prefer to call it the Otherworld, but yes, my own private hell to play around in.”
Cas wondered why whomever or whatever had trapped her here, hadn’t just killed her.
Maybe they couldn’t.
This thing had overpowered him at every turn; she was strong enough to get inside his head, make him hallucinate and cause him to experience an entirely new level of agony. His grace was almost useless in her presence. This might have been their only solution. Judging by the power she was radiating, Cas guessed she was older than him.
A lot older.
No matter what she actually was, this thing was incredibly powerful, and incredibly dangerous.
If she got out; the apocalypse might be the least of their worries.
She skipped back over to his side. “But now I’m bored.”
“Well, that‘s a shame,” Cas quipped, allowing his ever developing sarcastic side to emerge.
Valtiel patted his arm. “You are very strange for an angel of the lord,” she spat the last word, as if it tasted toxic coming out. “Rebelling against heaven, forming attachments to humans; but it also made you the perfect solution to my little problem.”
Cas cocked his head and tried to keep his expression neutral. “How so?”
She gave him a pitying look. “Because humans are pathetic, predictable creatures. I knew if I used their father as bait, they’d come. And I knew they’d go running straight to their loyal angel lap dog for help.”
Cas narrowed his eyes and felt his muscles tighten.
Her hand pressed against his chest, he felt his grace quiver, pain lanced through his body, but he didn‘t flinch. “And I knew because of your bond with Dean, you‘d never say no.” She let her hand linger, amusement dancing behind her dark eyes. Cas clenched his teeth and rode out the pain.
She pulled away, a small smirk on her lips. “I really like you Castiel, but sadly, your blood is the key to my release.”
Cas refused to let the panic that was struggling to emerge get the better of him, he focused on something else, something very important to his friends.
“Do you have John Winchester?” Cas kept his voice low, controlled. He didn’t think she did, this had all been a game of chess, and Dean’s father would have been an unnecessary pawn on the board. The letter would have been sufficient, but he needed to be sure.
Her pupils contracted and she scrutinized his face as if Cas was a foreign language she couldn’t quite figure out.
“You’re about to die Castiel, is that really what matters to you?”
“Since I’m about to die, what’s the harm in answering?” He went still, watching her.
She shrugged, smirked, and replied. “No,” while gesturing with her hands at something behind Cas’s head.
Cas had a moment to feel relief before he heard footsteps and two hooded figures stepped out from somewhere behind him. Cas wasn’t sure if they’d just come in, or if they’d been standing there silently the entire time.
This couldn’t be good.
Cas cocked his head and tried to stall, ignoring the fear snaking up his spine. “I’m curious, how‘d you get that letter to Dean?”
“Let‘s just say there are occasions when I can do a bit more than peer through the veil.” She winked at him, lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, like they were best buddies. “Small things can sometimes slip through the cracks.”
Cas glared at her, wishing he could wipe that smug grin off her face, and tried something else. “Why not grab me the moment I arrived; why wait?”
“Because you both were so much fun to play with,” she purred. “Didn’t you enjoy meeting my pets?”
Cas lifted his chin and started to reply when Valtiel froze, her pupils expanded, and her body started to vibrate.
What now?
“It seems we have unwanted visitors approaching,” She put her hands on her hips, her face twisted into a frown.
Cas felt a mixture of affection and anger. Dean. You idiot. Why didn’t you leave?
“It seems your human is determined to die today,” She made a tsk-tsk sound. “And after how hard you worked to keep him alive. It’s a shame really.”
“You have me, you don’t need to hurt him.” Cas struggled against his bonds, ignoring the pain as the rope tore into his already bruised skin.
Valtiel ignored him, her eyes closed and she went eerily still. Cas felt a vile, energy creep out into the room. He watched in astonishment as the walls began to erode. Blood stains became visible on the floor and ceiling. She was doing this, all of it. What the hell was this thing?
She opened her eyes, smiled at the now blood splattered room, and said. “It’s time.”
Each robed cultist took a bowl, they both walked to one side of the altar Cas was strapped to, and set a bowl down on the ground. Cas felt his fear start to break through the dam he‘d been struggling to keep it locked behind, he managed to swallow most of it back down.
“What did you do?”
Valtiel stood in front of him, her expression manic. “Sent out the welcoming committee.”
Cas’s heart lurched and his grace ached; he prayed Dean found a way to survive whatever evil she sent his way.
One of the robed figures vanished from Cas’s sight, the other stood in front of the small table and grabbed the book; the hood fell back.
It was Walter.
Bastard.
He opened it and waited, his eyes shimmering with impatience.
She walked to his left side first, stroking his very exposed wrist. Cas noticed for the first time that he’d been tied in such a way that his wrist and hand hung off the edge of the table, palm up. Perfect to catch his blood in the bowls that now rested on the floor.
The dam started to crack, his chest tightened as fear trickled through, weaving into his veins, growing with each pump of his heart.
Valtiel pressed the dagger to his flesh and started to cut.
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