aww! *hugs* I hope this exercise in potential violence helps--torturing fictional characters always works for ME, so I'm rather glad to know I'm not alone.
How about Castiel? Not because I DISLIKE the poor guy, but because I have great faith in your ability to make it GOOD. *clings to you*
(p.s. I haven't seen last night's episode yet -- so feel free to kill him off with spoilers aplenty, but let me know so I can put off reading until later this weekend if so? *wink*)
The cage door swung open and Sam knew better than to leave. The deputy said, “What’s that mean?”
Sam swallowed, closing his eyes tightly and trying not to sob. “It means Dean failed,” he whispered.
“Dean?” the deputy asked.
Chuckling, caught between anger and despair, Sam said, “My brother. The guy you were with.”
He didn’t look over or answer when she demanded, “Your dead, serial killer brother?”
Anger won out. These stupid backwater fuckers killed his brother. Sam crawled out of the cage and stood to his full height, popping his back. He absently shushed the deputy and listened. Someone was taking care to move silently, but Sam zeroed in on their position.
Stupid backwater fucker. Dean’s killer.
Sam slunk into the shadows and waited for the dumbfuck to come into reach. He had no idea how many of them there were, but he’d kill them all.
Ben had forgotten how amazing it felt to fight an opponent equal to him. Not since Manticore, not since they all went their separate ways. And Maxie is good, damned good, but the Blue Lady waits for her sacrifice, so Ben quits pussyfooting around and goes in the for the kill.
Max’s eyes are wide as he closes in, and she gasps when his fingers grip her neck. She struggles valiantly, and he’ll make sure the Lady knows what a worthy opponent she was.
“Ben,” she pleads, “Ben—”
The Lady needs a sacrifice. “Shh, Maxie,” he says. “Sleep now.”
Castiel has only spent a moment in Hell, in all his existence. He was given a task and he completed it, retrieving God’s chosen from Alistair’s grip.
He remembers Hell as fire and screaming, as sulfur and wailing, as pain and pain and pain—
“Welcome to my worktable, angel,” Alistair croons, coating ashes onto Castiel’s wings. “Let’s see if we can’t dirty you up a little.”
Father will save him. Unless this is Father’s design. Unless this is part of Father’s plan, and he will be here forever, until the war is over, until Father can spare the power it’d take to bring him back to Heaven.
“Oh, so gorgeous, angel,” Alistair purrs, slicing along Castiel’s flank and lapping up the blood with his forked tongue. “Tasty, too.”
Castiel prays for strength. This is not part of Father’s plan. His brothers or sisters will come for him. They will.
“You took my favorite from me,” Alistair tells him. “My star pupil. That boy could’a gone far, but you took him away.” Castiel gasps as Alistair snaps his left wing, wrenching it around at the base. “Think of this as paying a debt.”
Whispering Father’s name, Castiel looks past his tormentor, imagining Heaven’s perfect street and never-ending sky.
“I know what you thought about,” Alistair whispers, and the words twine about Castiel’s mind, dragging him back to the Pit. “Lookin’ at my boy, at those large eyes, at those plump, pretty lips. I know, angel.”
And Alistair laughs, “Why do you think you’re here? No one’s comin’, kiddo. Just you and me.”
“No,” Castiel murmurs.
Alistair smiles. “Lust is a sin, brother. And sinners are mine.”
When Lilith cast Ruby out of the blonde meatsuit, she sent her to the farthest reaches of Hell, a dark and cold corner, where not even the endless fires touched. Ruby shivered there, unable to count the days, until one of Alistair’s own handmaidens came for her.
“He wants you,” the shadow growled. “Go.”
With permission granted, she returned to the light, soaking in the warmth with glee until it burned her.
Alistair turned and grinned as she approached. “Sir?” she asked, glancing around.
“Ruby, dear,” he purred. “Got a job for you.”
His hand lashed out and gripped her, shoving her onto the table and strapping her down with will alone. This was his realm, his playground, and even Lucifer had been apprehensive when in Alistair’s presence.
“Please,” Ruby begged. “I don’t know—”
“Kiddo,” Alistair called to someone Ruby couldn’t see. “Wanna come play with little pretty?”
She turned her head, searching the shadows, and when he stepped into the light, Ruby whimpered.
Dean Winchester. But not the Dean she had known. This one’s eyes were black, and he was coated in blood. “No,” she begged. “No, please—”
Alistair laughed and Dean didn’t even crack a grin.
It is trapped, stuck in the demon’s sigil of power, and it cannot move of its own volition. “Pretty little body,” the demon hisses, wrenching it up and making a shallow cut. “Metaphysical blood,” the demon muses. “What d’ya think, Dean? Will it taste as good?”
“Alistair,” Dean growls. “I’ll kill you.”
The reaper watches as both Winchesters strain to affect the environment, to stop the demon while trapped themselves. But the endeavor is useless—its master’s mark is all over the scythe. Death has spoken. And the reaper is Death’s servant.
“Dean,” the reaper says, “Don’t—”
And Alistair yanks it back, baring its neck, and Death sings.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 03:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 03:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:01 pm (UTC)I don't know how killing him would help, but... Sam? (*is sick*)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:24 pm (UTC)How about Castiel? Not because I DISLIKE the poor guy, but because I have great faith in your ability to make it GOOD. *clings to you*
(p.s. I haven't seen last night's episode yet -- so feel free to kill him off with spoilers aplenty, but let me know so I can put off reading until later this weekend if so? *wink*)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:34 pm (UTC)Ahem, I mean uh...Ruby would be interesting.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:49 pm (UTC)Kill Ruby!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 04:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:19 pm (UTC)Any particulars? I kinda wanna have Alec rip Max's intestines out.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:22 pm (UTC)As to last night's ep, it wasn't the one I've been waiting for, but still pretty good.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 08:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 10:51 pm (UTC)Sam swallowed, closing his eyes tightly and trying not to sob. “It means Dean failed,” he whispered.
“Dean?” the deputy asked.
Chuckling, caught between anger and despair, Sam said, “My brother. The guy you were with.”
He didn’t look over or answer when she demanded, “Your dead, serial killer brother?”
Anger won out. These stupid backwater fuckers killed his brother. Sam crawled out of the cage and stood to his full height, popping his back. He absently shushed the deputy and listened. Someone was taking care to move silently, but Sam zeroed in on their position.
Stupid backwater fucker. Dean’s killer.
Sam slunk into the shadows and waited for the dumbfuck to come into reach. He had no idea how many of them there were, but he’d kill them all.
He missed one.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:00 pm (UTC)Backing away, Bobby raises Colt’s masterpiece, and Sam grins.
“Too little, too late, Uncle Bobby,” he says. “Been awhile, though. Think we should catch up?”
Bobby pulls the trigger.
“Yeah,” Sam says. “I think we should.”
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:01 pm (UTC)Max’s eyes are wide as he closes in, and she gasps when his fingers grip her neck. She struggles valiantly, and he’ll make sure the Lady knows what a worthy opponent she was.
“Ben,” she pleads, “Ben—”
The Lady needs a sacrifice. “Shh, Maxie,” he says. “Sleep now.”
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:02 pm (UTC)He remembers Hell as fire and screaming, as sulfur and wailing, as pain and pain and pain—
“Welcome to my worktable, angel,” Alistair croons, coating ashes onto Castiel’s wings. “Let’s see if we can’t dirty you up a little.”
Father will save him. Unless this is Father’s design. Unless this is part of Father’s plan, and he will be here forever, until the war is over, until Father can spare the power it’d take to bring him back to Heaven.
“Oh, so gorgeous, angel,” Alistair purrs, slicing along Castiel’s flank and lapping up the blood with his forked tongue. “Tasty, too.”
Castiel prays for strength. This is not part of Father’s plan. His brothers or sisters will come for him. They will.
“You took my favorite from me,” Alistair tells him. “My star pupil. That boy could’a gone far, but you took him away.” Castiel gasps as Alistair snaps his left wing, wrenching it around at the base. “Think of this as paying a debt.”
Whispering Father’s name, Castiel looks past his tormentor, imagining Heaven’s perfect street and never-ending sky.
“I know what you thought about,” Alistair whispers, and the words twine about Castiel’s mind, dragging him back to the Pit. “Lookin’ at my boy, at those large eyes, at those plump, pretty lips. I know, angel.”
And Alistair laughs, “Why do you think you’re here? No one’s comin’, kiddo. Just you and me.”
“No,” Castiel murmurs.
Alistair smiles. “Lust is a sin, brother. And sinners are mine.”
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:06 pm (UTC)“He wants you,” the shadow growled. “Go.”
With permission granted, she returned to the light, soaking in the warmth with glee until it burned her.
Alistair turned and grinned as she approached. “Sir?” she asked, glancing around.
“Ruby, dear,” he purred. “Got a job for you.”
His hand lashed out and gripped her, shoving her onto the table and strapping her down with will alone. This was his realm, his playground, and even Lucifer had been apprehensive when in Alistair’s presence.
“Please,” Ruby begged. “I don’t know—”
“Kiddo,” Alistair called to someone Ruby couldn’t see. “Wanna come play with little pretty?”
She turned her head, searching the shadows, and when he stepped into the light, Ruby whimpered.
Dean Winchester. But not the Dean she had known. This one’s eyes were black, and he was coated in blood. “No,” she begged. “No, please—”
Alistair laughed and Dean didn’t even crack a grin.
Handing off the knife, Alistair said, “Playtime.”
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:07 pm (UTC)“Alistair,” Dean growls. “I’ll kill you.”
The reaper watches as both Winchesters strain to affect the environment, to stop the demon while trapped themselves. But the endeavor is useless—its master’s mark is all over the scythe. Death has spoken. And the reaper is Death’s servant.
“Dean,” the reaper says, “Don’t—”
And Alistair yanks it back, baring its neck, and Death sings.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-13 11:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-14 01:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-14 01:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-14 01:31 am (UTC)