Screams. All he could hear was screams.
He opened his eyes. His sight was met with clouds of black and rivers of red and chains of steel.
He tried to take a breath. Found he couldn't.
He looked down at his body, and realized that his organs were spilling out. He should feel pain, he thought vaguely, detached.
His stomach was carved out, his intestines falling from between the flaps of flesh. Bleeding scars crisscrossed everywhere, like a game of Tic-Tac-Toe gone wrong.
He looked up again. His eyes met vicious black eyes. A cruel smile, filled with fangs, stretched out on the mangled face of the demon holding a jagged knife to his throat.
"Welcome back, son," Alastair said.
And Dean screamed.