Summary: Castiel feels a demonic evil inside of his veins after a demon bites him in a battle. He has been contaminated with the demon power, and it is only a matter of time before he turns 100% dark side. Will Dean and Sam be able to save him from his sadistic destiny, or will Castiel end up obeying Lucifer?

'Rob, Scott...this…is where we strike'

A leading demon named Blake, male; middle aged; balding blonde hair and brown eyes, pointed towards a map that lay across an oak table. Both Rob and Scott, who were lower-class demons stood around him, their hands folded across their chests, their eyes gazing towards the paper location in front of them, as they were central in an abandoned warehouse.

Creasing their eyebrows towards each other, Rob and Scott began to speak:

'That's fucking far…'

'Yeah shit man, you could of chose a better spot!'

The leader looked towards them in outrage: 'Silence! You will obey my orders…get your shit together and let's go…'

Sighing, the two other demons began to pick up their belongings that were scattered around them, as Blake began to roll up the map, placing it in a duffel bag that was by his feet. As they began to make their way out of the warehouse, the exit door suddenly imploded, the doors swinging on their hinges with such ferocity that a cloud of dust spread out throughout the interior of the building.

'Howdy…' A male Texan accent spoke proudly, his muscular figure suddenly coming into frame as the dust seemed to disperse out into the atmosphere. All three demons stood in shock of the new arrivals – three males; Dean who was holding a shotgun, Castiel who again was wearing his creamy coloured trenchcoat, and Sam, who Blake thought had a terrible haircut – incredibly messy like an unclean, shaggy dog. This thought was quickly forgotten as suddenly Dean raised the shotgun up to his chest, firing it quickly, the recoil digging into his shoulder. The bullet entered Blake's heart, penetrating the arteries as blood spattered over his blackened shirt, killing his soul and his vessel instantly. As he slumped onto the floor in a heap, both Rob and Scott began to charge towards the three intruders.

'I'll fucking kill you!' Rob screamed, beginning to take a knife out of the back of his jeans. Castiel simply regarded him briefly before raising his hand, the angelic power causing Rob to fling back against the table, his back crashing into the wooden fibres as his body landed on the floor in a state of semi-unconsciousness. Scott did not even flinch as he rushed towards Sam, knocking him down instantaneously with an outstretched punch to the temple. Dean began to raise the shotgun again, the butt of the gun rested deeply into his collar bone as suddenly it was snatched from his hands by Scott who threw it on the floor right next to Rob. Rob did not stir as the gun slightly touched his leg, instead his legs and arms stayed twisted underneath the table, as his eyes were closed tight, and his mouth parted in a now lifeless sleep.

'Shit…' Dean cursed under his breath, before he felt the demon place his hands on his chest, pushing him towards the other side of the warehouse, his back landing on the floor harshly as his head flicked back on the floor, the force of the blow causing Dean's vision to blur quickly. Castiel, who became distracted at looking over towards Dean, his face a picture of upmost concern, didn't have time to react as Scott pushed him onto the floor. The lights that hung over the ceiling of the warehouse began to flicker, causing Castiel's wings to shine onto the bitter cold warehouse ground.

Scott scoffed as he noticed the shadows of the wings extending from Castiel's back: 'Heh…don't fucking move angel…'

Castiel struggled underneath the immense weight of the demon whose legs had pinned the angel's arms to the floor, his whole body unable to move, his hands unable to unleash any form of power – he was completely defenceless. Scott began to lick his lips as suddenly he crashed into Castiel's neck, his jagged teeth bore down onto his divine flesh, as blood began to seep into the demon's mouth. Scott sucked harshly, coaxing every last drop of angelic blood out as Castiel continued to thrash under the demon's weight. It was no use, as Castiel's veins began to run cold and his mind started to black out under the effect of his soul losing all of his energy, and of his vessel losing every ounce of life fluid that was needed for him to survive.

'Cas!' Coming too, Sam struggled to stand up as he spotted the gun just metres away from him. Wavering as he lunged towards it, Sam picked up the shotgun in his hands, gripping it tightly as he tried to aim it towards the demon. His vision was clouded as he tried to wake up from his previous unconsciousness, looking towards what looked like himself feasting on an unsuspecting demon. Sam gritted his teeth in anger as he lined up his shot, the aim of the shotgun becoming in sight of Scott's forehead. Sam did not hesitate as suddenly a deafening blast radiated from the gun, and a bullet had exited Scott's head, blood spilling out over Castiel's face like a crimson waterfall. As Scott's body fell next to the broken angel, Sam rushed towards Castiel, who was grunting in agony.

Dean's voice was suddenly heard as he began to rise up, one of his hands holding the base of his head as he gazed towards his brother and his friend: 'Fuck…Cas!'

Sliding down towards the angel, Dean saw the incredible damage on Castiel's neck, looking towards Sam briefly to see if he was the cause. Seeing no blood around his brother's mouth, instead on that of Scott's vessel, he pressed a hand against the wound, which now oozed a stream of thick, maroon liquid, seeping into the collar of Castiel's coat.

Raising one of his hands slowly and gently, Castiel placed it over Dean's, his lips cracked and his eyes closed as he began to whisper: 'I don't feel right Dean…I…I feel different…' Sucking in the air around him, Castiel cried out in pain as the wound on his neck began to pump excruciating sensations into his veins. 'Dean…help me…please…'

Dean gazed over towards Sam who looked at the angel in complete anxiety, his ocean coloured eyes gazed over with a film of fresh tears: 'Sam…what the hell has happened to him?'

Dean grabbed hold of one of Castiel's shoulders, giving them a slow squeeze of comfort as Castiel slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

'…what in God's name has happened to him?'