Roman and Dean looked at the dark house across the street. This house was the haunted attraction of this town, and the stories about it probably contained more myth than truth. That didn't stop them from feeling a bit uneasy while looking at it.
"The house of the devil," Dean said.
"Let's just go again. This was a childish idea," Roman said.
"Scared?" Dean smirked. "Are you afraid we might actually find him in there?"
"They say the devil lives here, and I'm a man of god, so I don't think I should be messing with this," Roman said.
"I didn't think you'd be this scared," Dean grinned at his friend. "I'm going in there with or without you."
He started crossing the street. Roman rolled his eyes and then followed right behind. They entered the dark house through an unlocked door, and turned on the flashlights on their phones.
"This is the worst idea we've ever had," Roman said. "We're too old for this shit."
It was a standard thing for teenagers to dare each other to enter the house at night. Something most of them never ended up doing. But Roman and Dean were adults, and they should know better than to mess around with an old myth. Dean walked out in the kitchen, opened a door, and shone the flashlight down the stairs.
"Dean!" Roman grabbed Dean's arm. "No!"
"They say you willingly surrender your soul to the devil once you walk down to the basement. They say hell is down there," Dean said.
"I know damn well what they say!" Roman growled. "And we're not fucking walking down there!"
"It's just a basement, Roman," Dean laughed. "See. No flames and no little devils coming to tickle your toes."
Roman held on even tighter to Dean's arm.
"Think about it, Roman. If that was the truth, no one would have come out of this house alive to start telling those stories," Dean said.
Dean had a point. Roman couldn't argue with that. He let go of Dean's arm, and they walked down in the basement, shining their flashlights around. It was just an old, dusty basement. Nothing out of the unusual.
"See," Dean said.
"Ssh!" Roman grabbed Dean's arm again. "Listen!"
They heard footsteps upstairs. Light footsteps. Maybe a teenager taking the dare. They turned off the flashlights on their phones, pressed themselves up against the wall, and waited. Someone shone a light down the stairs, and then the person started walking down too. Once the person was down there, Roman's phone suddenly started ringing. The flashlight moved in their direction, shining directly in their faces, and then a female scream sounded. She dropped the flashlight and started running.
"Shit!" Dean yelled. "Wait! Stop! We're not gonna hurt you!"
He caught up with her before she even made it back to the stairs. He grabbed her and spun her around.
"Please!" She cried.
"Wow, easy!" He held up his hands. "We're not gonna hurt you. I'm Dean and that is Roman. We're just here to mess around. We didn't think anyone else would come here."
"Daeva," she said. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry about that, Daeva. Nice to meet you despite the circumstances. What are you doing here?" He asked.
"I sort of live here," she said.
"Live here?" Roman finally spoke up. "This house has been vacated since the dawn of time."
"I know. No one comes here. When I lost my job and couldn't pay rent, I sucked up all my fears of this house, and I've been living here while trying to get back on my feet," she said.
"So no devil here?" Dean smirked. "But that doesn't explain why you're down in the basement."
She picked up her flashlight with a smile, walked over to a washing maching in the corner, opened it, and pulled out a bottle.
"My special moonshine," she grinned. "Sometimes people enter this house, and I can't have them find my stash. Do you boys wanna share a drink with me?"
"Hell yeah!" Dean grinned.
"Here," she handed Dean the bottle and the flashlight. "There's glasses upstairs. I've cleaned them."
Roman and Dean walked up first, and back into the living room. They watched as she came walking out of the kitchen to join them. She was in a short, black, leather skirt and a tight black top. Her hair was black too, and once she stepped close enough to the light, they could see her eyes were dark green.
"So you live here?" Roman asked. "Aren't you afraid someone might come in here at night and hurt you?"
"Someone like you?" She chuckled.
"Touché," he said.
"I got a room upstairs," she pointed at the ceiling. "There's a heavy dresser I push in front of the door, and then I push the bed in front of the dresser. It'll take someone a hard time to get inside, and I'll jump out of the window before they make it."
"Jump out and risk getting hurt? It might just be the first floor, but you could still break a leg," Dean said.
"I'll take a broken leg over being killed," she said.
"I kinda get that," Dean laughed.
"So, drinks," she said.
She turned her attention to the bottle and started pouring the content in shots glasses.
"It was Seth who called," Roman said.
"Call him back. Finn's probably gotten off the flight, so they're heading here," Dean said.
"Friends of yours?" She asked.
"Seth's our friend, and Finn is his Irish cousin coming to visit," Roman answered. "I'll call them and tell them we're here."
"Let's have a party," Dean said.
Roman dialed Seth back, and Seth picked up quickly.
"Hello?" He asked.
"You called," Roman said.
"Yeah, the flight is delayed so I'm stuck here for a little while," Seth said.
"We're in the house of the devil," Roman said.
"I can't believe you actually went there," Seth said.
"It's not that bad," Roman smirked at Daeva. "We'll stay here for a while. If you don't hear from us, come join us. If we leave, we'll let you know."
"I'll see you as soon as he lands," Seth said.
Roman hung up, and accepted the shots glass she was handing him.
"To new friendships," Dean raised his eyebrows. "Hot, new friendships."
She giggled, and all three of them downed their shots.
"Wow, it has a kick to it," Roman shook his head.
"You don't say," Dean said.
"Can I see what your insides look like?" She asked.
"What?" Roman asked.
He looked at her, only she wasn't there anymore. He heard her footsteps, and she came walking out of the kitchen like she had just done before they took the drink. For a second he was confused if it had actually happened, but he still stood with the glass in his hand so it had to.
"Dean?" He asked.
"What?" Dean looked at him. "Did you see weird colors too?"
"Colors? What are you talking about?" Roman asked.
Dean looked around, wondering where all the yellow, orange and red colors had gone too. They had reminded him of flames. Hellfire even. The house of the devil. It was only a myth. A myth that was getting to him and messing with his head. He sat down on the old, worn out, three person couch. He felt movement as someone sat down on the other end.
Roman sat down on the other end of the couch. Dean wasn't looking at him, but kept his head straight forward. Maybe he was seeing colors again. What the hell had been in that drink? Roman turned his head, and found Daeva standing right next to him.
"You're really pretty, you know that?" He asked.
He took her hand and started kissing her wrist.
"Stop," she said.
She tried pulling back, but instead he got up and wrapped his arms around her. He knew he was wrong. He knew he should let go but he couldn't. She set him on fire in all the right places, and probably also all the wrong places. He ignored her pleas of letting go, and instead moved them around.
They fell down on the couch, and her head landed on Dean's lap. Roman pushed her skirt up and tore her thong off. He opened his pants, freed his dick, and pushed inside her before she could react.
It hurt and burned, and he wondered if she was in just as much pain as he was. He wanted to stop. He needed to stop. He was hurting them both, but he couldn't stop. Instead his thrusts came faster, and it felt like razor blades were slicing his dick open for every time he pushed forward.
Her head moved around on Dean's lap, and Roman looked up at his friend. There was no reaction. Dean was staring straight ahead, looking at the broken television across from them. Roman grabbed her throat, forcing her head to lie still on Dean's lap. He roared out in pain, and pulled out of her. He looked down at the bloody mess. He had cum blood, and she was bleeding too. She was sliced open as if he had taken a saw blade to her crotch. She wasn't reacting at all. She just laid there, as if he had fucked the life out of her.
"Daeva?" He looked from her to Dean. "Dean? Please, wake up. I need you right now. I don't understand what's going on. Dean? Dean!"
Dean had been watching the flames on the tv. He had heard the screams. He had seen the torture. He hadn't been able to tear his face away from the images. When he finally did, he looked at Roman sitting on the couch. Roman was sleeping.
"Are you okay?" Daeva asked.
He looked up to see her standing on the other side of the couch.
"Yeah, just this house playing tricks on my mind," he said. "Come here."
He grabbed her hands and pulled her down on his lap. He started kissing up her neck, feeling intoxicated by her scent. She squirmed around, trying to get free.
"Stay!" He growled.
"Let go," she pleaded.
"I said fucking stay!" He yelled.
He moved them around fast, placing her on her knees on the couch, grabbing her neck, pressing her head first into the backrest. He pulled her skirt up and ripped her thong off. He was fast to open his pants, free his dick, and push inside her.
Heavenly pussy. That was how he would describe it. Sweet and sinful. She cried in front of him, and he heard every word. He knew he was doing something wrong, but he couldn't stop himself. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back, and placed an arm around her throat.
"Shut up!" He snarled. "Just shut up and enjoy it!"
He didn't even know why he chose those words. He didn't enjoy it himself, and still it felt better than anything else. His mind was working on overload, and no matter how much he tried to tell himself to stop, he couldn't. She went limp in his arms, and he came in the same second. He pulled out of her and let go, and her body crashed down lifelessly. He had killed her.
"Daeva?" He looked from her to sleeping Roman. "Roman? Wake up! I fucking killed her! What the fuck did I do? Roman, please!"
The two men's eyes met. They sat on either side of the couch. They both looked down at their crotches. Their pants were closed, and it didn't feel like they had just had sex. There was no blood on the couch, and no lifeless body. Footsteps sounded and they looked up to see her come out of the kitchen like she had done two times already.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked.
"What the hell is in that bottle?" Roman pointed at the bottle.
"A little of this and a little of that," she shrugged.
"Tell me!" Roman demanded.
"Shit, I don't know. Vodka, whiskey, soda. Whatever I find when I break into people's homes," she said.
They stared at her with open mouths.
"What? I have to feed myself somehow. I'm trying to get a job but they don't fucking hang on trees. Don't judge me like that," she said.
"Any chance there's any drugs in that thing, because I tell you, Daeva, I'm tripping balls here," Dean said.
"There might be," she said. "I don't really stop and check what I put in there. Whenever I find something new, I just pour it on top."
"We should just sit here until it passes," Roman said.
"Yeah, your friends will come find you. I'll go upstairs and sleep then," she said.
"I wanna see your room," Dean said. "I wanna make sure you're safe."
After what he had just seen himself do to her, he felt a need to protect her. Roman nodded, feeling the same way too. The two men shared a look. They knew they had to tell each other what they had experienced when she wasn't around. They got up from the couch and followed her upstairs to the first floor.
"In here," she said.
They walked into the room and looked around. There was a dresser next to the door like she had talked about. The bed was placed in the middle of the floor, ready to be pushed back and forward. A crowbar was left on the floor. Maybe some form of protection. They couldn't imagine living like this, being so scared that someone would have to barricade the door like that each night.
"I'm sorry," Roman said.
"Me too," Dean said.
"I'm used to it," she said.
The floorboards outside of the room creaked, and they all looked out in the hallway. Foul creatures, demonic looking, were slowly moving towards the room.
"I'm tripping again," Dean said.
"I see them too," Roman said.
"Me too," she said. "What the hell did you bring into this house with you?"
"Us?" Roman asked.
"Fight now, bitch later!" Dean yelled.
He ran to the door and slammed it shut. Roman ran to the dresser but it wouldn't move. He tried the bed next but it didn't move either.
"I thought you said you moved this stuff!" He yelled.
"I do!" She yelled back.
She tried the bed herself but it didn't move.
"What the hell?" She asked.
Roman ran to Dean, helping his friend keeping the door closed as the creatures on the other side tried to push it open.
"Daeva! The window!" Roman yelled.
She ran to the window and tried with all her strength to open it. It didn't move one bit. She picked up a crowbar from the floor and started hammering away on the glass. Nothing happened.
"They won't let us out!" She yelled. "We're trapped!"
"Then we fucking fight our way out of here!" Dean snarled. "Give me that thing!"
She ran over to him and handed him the crowbar.
"Dean, before we go out there," Roman looked at his friend. "I saw my dead brother among them."
"I saw my dad," Dean sighed. "We can't let them fool us. They're not them."
"I love you," Roman said.
"I love you too, and we're getting the fuck out of here," Dean said. "Open the door for me, and I'll go first swinging."
He stepped back and raised the crowbar. Roman opened the door, and Dean flew forward, swinging the crowbar wildly. Roman and Daeva followed behind, trying to fight the creatures that went for them. They ran down the stairs, towards the front door, only to be met by a wall. Dean dropped the crowbar and slammed his fists into the wall.
"No!" He cried. "Where's the door? Where's the god damn door?"
"They're coming!" Roman warned.
"Roman?" Dean turned around.
"I know," Roman started crying.
Their eyes met. They sat on either end of the couch. They looked around confused. There were no creatures coming for them. Their faces were dry of tears. The front door was back where it had always been. It was like they had never left the couch. They heard footsteps and looked up to see her walk out of the kitchen the same way she had done three times already.
"Why does it keep restarting?" Roman asked.
"It must be our own personal hell," Dean answered.
"All I know is that you're real. Everything else I'm gonna ignore from now on," Roman said.
"Good plan," Dean said. "Let's ride this weird trip out."
"Why do you wanna ignore everything?" She asked.
They looked at her, but none of them said anything at first.
"Oh, you're ignoring me too," she rolled her eyes. "Great! What did I do?"
"Is she real?" Roman asked.
"I don't know," Dean answered.
"Yes, I'm fucking real. Here, touch me," she said.
"No!" Both men held up their hands.
"Damn, I didn't mean touch me dirty," she said.
"She looks real," Roman said.
"I am real," she said.
She walked towards them, and they flew up from the couch. She was between the couch and the front door, so they moved to the wall in the other end of the room.
"Are you scared of me?" She asked.
"I'm gonna be the bigger man tonight and confess to that, yeah," Dean answered.
"Why?" She asked.
"I raped you and killed you, and then some fucking demons chased us around, and now you're here again," Roman said.
"You what? I assure you that you didn't do any of that," she said.
"What the hell is in that bottle?" Roman whimpered.
"Okay, I don't know why you're not picking up, but I got Finn, and we're on the way. Don't leave the house until we get there. He wants to see the famous haunted house."
"Seth?" Dean looked around. "Where is his voice coming from."
"My phone," Roman answered.
He had his phone in his hand. He had no idea when he had taken it out and pressed played on the voicemail but apparently he had.
"He left it 20 minutes ago," he said. "I don't know why I didn't hear it ring or feel it vibrate."
"20 minutes. He's just around the corner then," Dean said.
They heard a car pull up out front.
"Freedom!" Dean started smiling.
"I can't wait to get the fuck out of here," Roman said.
"You're gonna stay," she said.
"Right!" Dean chuckled. "We're gonna walk our asses out in Seth's car, and we'll never come back here again. No offence, Daeva, but you're brewing some fucking shit in that bottle, and I have no idea what your plan is with us."
"Plan?" She laughed.
She shook her head and her smile grew wide.
"Do you know that famous movie quote? The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world he didn't exist," she said.
"Yeah?" Roman asked nervously.
"That's not true. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world she was a man," she said.
She started grinning and held out her hands.
"The house of the devil. I live here, boys," she said. "And you already know all the stories. You went down in the basement. Down into hell. Down into my fucking playground! You signed over your souls willingly, and the second you drank my poison, you died."
She lifted her hand and ran it around in circles in front of her while pointing at both of them.
"This right there, that ain't you. That's your souls, and I've been playing you good so far. Your bodies are long gone, and your two little buddies about to enter won't find them. They'll go look for you, and they'll make the same stupid mistake like you did. Everyone always does."
"Poison?" Roman whimpered. "There was poison in the bottle?"
"You died on the couch. I had my fun from there. You smell delicious when you're scared. I wish we had more time, but alas, new players have entered the field," she said.
The door opened, and Seth and Finn stepped inside. Despite looking straight at Roman and Dean, they didn't see them.
"Roman? Dean? We're here!" Seth called. "Where are you?"
"Get out, Seth!" Dean screamed.
"He can't hear or see you," she laughed. "Or me. Not until I let him."
"Guess we'll have to find them," Seth shrugged.
"Like a treasure hunt," Finn giggled. "I bet they're hiding to scare us."
They walked out in the kitchen, and Roman and Dean heard the door to the basement being opened.
"So hell's down there?" Finn asked.
"According to the myth," Seth answered. "Should we go check it out?"
"Don't go down there!" Dean cried. "Please!"
They heard footsteps moving down the stairs, and they hung their heads in defeat.
"That's my cue," she grinned. "Wait here, boys. I'm far from done with you, and right now you got front row tickets for my next show."
They couldn't move. They were rooted on the spot, watching her walk out in the kitchen. They heard her walk down the stairs, and mumbling voices came from the basement. Soon Seth and Finn came walking back up first and Daeva followed behind. She walked out of the kitchen the same way she had done four times before.
"They went out for beer," she said. "They didn't like my moonshine. Are you boys up for trying it?"
"Sure," Finn said.
She filled three shots glasses and passed them a glass each.
"No," Roman whispered.
"Cheers," she said.
Her eyes went to Roman and Dean. A twisted, little smile spread on her face as Seth and Finn knocked down their shots.