The air in the cellar was heavy and dark, and every breath an agony of pain. The handcuffs at my wrists and ankles clinked dully as I shifted. My clothes were in shreds, a mere inconvenience for their claws and teeth. Every inch of me had been marked by the bastards. The days had blurred together until I started measuring time by how often they entered my cellar and whether I got any sleep before the next tormentor arrived.

A deafening clattering suddenly thundered above me, all snarls and shrieks and heavy movement. I pulled at my restraints anxiously as adrenaline shot through my veins. Had they captured someone else? Had more of the monsters arrived? The door at the top of the steps crashed open, two tall forms barreling in, bringing dying shrieks and blinding light with them.

I would not cower in the darkness. They hadn't broken me yet. "Come on, you bastards! What do you want now?!" I strained toward them and the chair rocked, chains rattling.

They jerked to a halt at the bottom of the steps, quickly checking the rest of the small room. It was empty, except for me. Light blazed through the open door and outlined their frames, one towering well over six feet and the other was all broad shoulders. "Who the hell are you?" Barked the shorter one, who was only small by comparison to the beast at his side.

The giant came at me in a rush, blocking out the light. "Why are you–?"

As soon as he came within reach, I slammed my head into his face, satisfaction racing through my veins at the crunch of bones. He reared back, a gush of blood pouring down his face and splashing into my matted hair. My heart began to race as the fresh copper scent of his blood filled the air. It wasn't brackish enough for demon blood or fermented enough to be vampire—human? "Who the hell are you?" My voice rasped as I fought against the handcuffs.

"Shit! Was that really necessary?" He grunted as blood dripped down his angular face.

The other one snorted. "She thinks on her feet. I like that." He shined a flashlight in my eyes, completely blinding me. "So, sweet cheeks, what are you?" He splashed water in my face. "Not a demon."

"I'm human!" This was unbelievable. "Check for fangs, damn it-not a vampire either!" I hissed, showing my gums. "Now get me out!"

The big one wiped the blood from his face. "We need to move, Dean. It's not going to take long for the others to realize what we did to their little friends upstairs and come swarming the place. She's dead if we leave her." He crouched beside me warily, just out of reach. "Okay, Killer, easy, now. I'm just trying to help." He pulled a lock pick out of his pocket and I sucked in my first full breath since their arrival. If they were going to help me, I might just have a chance out of this godforsaken place.

"Wait, those won't-" The words had barely left my mouth before the metal tools made contact with the handcuffs and white hot arcs of pain blazed up my calves and forearms, wrenching a tight moan from me. Angry red sparks showered from the cuffs and knocked him off his haunches.

"Shit. Restrained and warded?" The one with the shoulders –Dean—gave me a sharp look but stepped back and studied the eyebolts and excess chains securing the chair to the floor. "I can get you out but it's going to hurt," he warned. Barely waiting for a nod, he planted himself behind me. "Hang tight." Large hands threaded through the back of the chair, his knuckles against the small of my back. He strained and the chair creaked as he lifted it off the ground and slammed it down at an odd angle. The impact shattered the leg and the rest of the chair splintered apart beneath me. I hit the ground, hard. Scrambling, I shook myself off and was able to work the handcuffs free of the debris. They were still attached to me, but I could move again.

"We need to get out of here." Dean lugged me to my feet and pain suddenly crackled through every muscle with a ferocity that stole my breath. Dean ignored my hunched, shuffling steps and hauled me behind him toward the stone stairwell. "Let's go. We're burning daylight."

We stepped through the doorway into hazy light. My cellar had been beneath a pole barn where the demons and vamps had set up camp. Decapitated and staked corpses littered the barn area and the men ignored the carnage as they made their way to the barn doors. The rising stench of evil and vampire blood was cloying and as soon as we stepped out into the sunlight I sucked in a deep breath of cleansing air. The warmth of the sun poured over my battered face like a blessing. A black Chevy Impala was parked off to the side and Sam slid into the back, gesturing for me to get in beside him. Dean barely waited for me to clear the door before slamming it shut and climbing behind the wheel. He started her up with a roar and we took off down the county road, leaving the death and carnage behind us.

I hunched in the back seat as we drove in silence. The cool draft of the air conditioning shocked me and I let out a long breath, letting my thoughts settle. I was out - I was free from those sons of bitches. I inspected myself in the light of day and struggled to be objective. My skin was sallow, an ugly pale color that made the blood and bruises stand out clearly. The handcuffs were stark on my wrists and ankles with angry welts and broken skin beneath them. There was barely enough of my clothing left to cover me, and fresh blood was seeping from the deep gouges over my ribs and the claw marks stretching across my right shoulder down across my collarbone. Bruises and half healed scars covered the rest of what I could see, and my jeans were slashed across my right thigh with blood still seeping through. Ever-present pain was gnawing at me but it was muted beneath the adrenaline still pumping in my veins. I could hardly wrap my head around what was happening, and tried to ignore the taunting voice in my head warning that it was all a dream. "Who are you?" The rasp of my voice was pronounced in the quietness of the car.

The guys shared a look in the rearview mirror that was heavy with conversation before the giant in the back seat with me spoke. "I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean. We're hunters. What's your name?"

"Alex."

Sam cleared his throat, eyes concerned. "How long did they have you?"

"Long enough." I pulled back farther into the corner. Heavy silence filled the Impala and he shifted uncomfortably beside me.

"Not long enough to lose your fight." He ruefully touched his nose and I could clearly see the break in it. Something told me that it was not his first experience with broken bones. Both of them gave off an almost military vibe, as if they had been through things I could only imagine. And thanks to recent experience, I could imagine a hell of a lot. My assessment hitched as I realized that he wasn't just tall, but ripped. Long ropey muscles from head to toe and his six and a half feet were folded nearly in half in the back seat with me, his controlled strength barely held in check in the small space. "For being such a spitfire, though, it does look like the other guys got the best of you a time or two." He grasped my face for a better look at the bruises and I reacted instinctively.

I am not tied down any more.

I had him pinned to the car door with his own knife at his throat before he could blink. Stabbing pain pulsed at the abrupt movement but I blocked it out, pressing firmly against his wind pipe. His eyes shone with wary appreciation as he slowly held his hands at his sides, palms out. "Easy, Killer."

"Don't fucking mess with me," I hissed.

He gave a small nod and kept his hands where I could see them. "Sorry."

"Sammy, settle down back there and leave her be." Dean's eyes met mine in the mirror for a split second before he turned back to the road. "We're not far from our place. You can clean up there."

I released Sam and huddled back in corner of the seat, his knife still clutched in my hand. The rest of the ride was quiet, with Sam and I both keeping a wary eye on each other.