the doom mark crawls down the wall - SN/Hide - R
Title: the doom mark crawls down the wall
Fandom: “Supernatural”/Hide
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Sylvia Plath
Warnings: spoilers for season 4 and end of movie
Pairings: um-a smidge of Dean/Billy
Rating: R
Point of view: third
Wordcount: 415
“Well now, Billy Bear, what’s it gonna be today? I’m thinkin’ the meat-hook-that’s my preference. But Hell’s all about you.”
Billy looked up from his burning entrails to meet the eyes of his chief tormenter. “Don’t you have anythin’ better to do?” he gasped, throat bleeding.
“Nope,” he drawled. “I’m here for you ‘til you break, Billy Bear.” He smirked, licking his lips. “You were a nasty piece of work Above, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning in close and mouthing at Billy’s neck. “You were a terror, killed and hurt whole bushels of people. I’m just here to make you feel how they felt.”
Billy screamed as fire traveled up his veins, to every nerve ending. “What’ll it be?” his torturer asked. “Meat-hook or flaying?”
“Fuck you,” Billy snarled through the pain. “Get your jollies somewhere else, you fucker.”
The fire vanished, leaving Billy gasping. Dread built up in him as the bastard knelt before him, grinning. “Well now, Billy. That is a good idea.”
Billy shuddered, momentary courage gone, and whispered, “Please. Go away.”
“No, sweetheart,” he responded, standing and gently patting Billy’s cheek. “See, I’m here for you. Until you break, all my attention is on you, day in and day out.” He gently kissed Billy’s lips, and Billy tasted blood and ash and fire.
Only the chains around Billy’s wrists kept him upright as he sagged down. “Give me the vision,” he pled.
“Alright, Billy Bear,” Alistair’s pupil agreed. “But remember-you make your own torment. What you see is all on you.”
Billy glanced up at him-he would’ve been pretty without the blood coating his skin, and those glinting hazel eyes seared right through Billy. “I understand,” he said.
“One day you’ll break,” the tormenter promised, resting his calloused palm on Billy’s cheek. “We all do. You’ll say yes and take my razor and start hurtin’ people again.” Billy closed his eyes and waited, and the words continued on, soft and dark and absolute. “You’ll learn my name that day and we’ll have fun the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
“Please,” Billy muttered. “Give me the dream.”
A featherlight touch to his forehead and he opened his eyes in the back of the van, on his way to trial. Seven years in prison, seven years without the love of his life, seven years that taught him regret.
Have fun, Alistair’s apprentice whispered in the back of his mind. You’ll get to do this forever when you finally tell me yes.