This story came about because of an inexplicable fit of rage and a plot bunny that hit me at the very same time
(Please excuse any inaccuracies. I'm not completely finished with S6, so I don't know if Sam has any more memories that would disprove this :U)
(And also I'm so, so very sorry for any sloppiness/general awfulness. This was all written during third period whilst idiots pandered for my attention, so...)
The pain was unbearable. Burning, hot, blistering, scorching, with flames licking across his vision.
He was alone, though it was only a matter of time before they came back.
Right now, though, he was on his own. Nothing but the scent of burning, sizzling flesh and the sensation of chains piercing his body to keep him company.
Never once was he able to sleep. No matter how tired or weak he felt, he could never shut his eyes to escape from the heat, from the pain, from the smells, the sounds. They never went away, not when he screamed, not when he cried, not when he called out to anyone who would listen to please, please help.
There was no end, there never had been, and he was beginning to think there never would be.
There was no escape.
Not this time.
A/N
Okay, so I'm in a better mood now (writing this helped a LOT) and I have a second, less bad chapter on standby. If you guys wanna see it, tell me. Review, like, follow, PM, whatever.
Not subliminal messaging, though. That stuff has a really low success rate with me.
Apologies.