Into the Abyss
'Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.'
- Friedrich Nietzsche
PROLOGUE
"For what it's worth Samson I was paid a lot and we did have fun."
Samson was frozen as his heart finally shattered. A solid lump of pure ice breaking into a thousand crystalline shards. Then through the flames that were slowly increasing in number he saw him, the Lord of the Philistines, and the betrayal was complete. Azazel. Those demonic eyes of his glowed as the flames reflected off them and he smirked as he pulled Delilah into a lovers embrace, kissing her fiercely. His eyes found Samson's and he could see satisfaction in them while his own were filled with horror. Sam saw Azazel slowly pull a long wicked looking knife from his belt and tried to call a warning to Delilah but the smoke was choking him and all he could do was cough. Samson stared in agony as Azazel plunged the knife brutally into Delilah's stomach and could only watch as his fiancé eyes widened in shock and a scream ripped from her mouth, a red stain rapidly covering her pale dress as her blood ran down the blade that Azazel had left twisted in her gut. She stared into those eyes and the question "Why?" gurgled out of her bloody lips as Azazel dropped her to the sodden ground where blood and mud mixed into a sickening mess.
"Stupid girl. You don't think I'm going to keep around the bitch that so easily betrayed a man that she loved do you?"
Blood spilled from the wound in her stomach onto the ground where she had fallen and as she coughed more bubbled out of her mouth. Samson continued to struggle against his bonds, trying to get to her, to provide her with some comfort in her dying moments but to no avail.
"Oh you did? How cute. Stupid but cute" he said mockingly. He patted her on the head like a dog as he turned to walk towards Samson as the pool of blood spread. "Now die quietly will you? That noise is annoying" Azazel didn't even glance at her as he approached Samson.
Samson could feel the flames reach him and they began to crawl up his legs. He tried not to cry out and give the monster the satisfaction of his pain but the scream tore from his throat as his bare skin started to burn. Then everything seemed to pause and that evil smirking face hovered in front of Samson's eyes.
"I've won Sammy Boy and it's been beautiful. Humans are such fun to play with."
Samson finally tore his eyes away from the still twitching body of the woman he had loved and had been willing to die for. The temporary freeze in the flames allowed him to repeat his beloved's question.
"Tell me why?"
"Why not? It's been fun. It's a shame really. I had such high hopes for you if you had just told us your secret. You could have been so very special and we could have done great, great things."
He stepped through the flames and gently ran the back of his hand lightly across Samson's face almost fondly and Sam shuddered in revulsion.
"Special, amazing, wonderful things."
Samson cringed at the ominous words and if he hadn't been in so much pain from his broken and burning body he might have noticed the yellow in Azazel's eyes was no longer just a reflection of the flames.
With that Azazel turned and walked away as the circle of flames unfroze and began to destroy the man tied to the pole within it. Finally Samson let out a roar. That roar contained more than just the agony of the flames destroying his body. It contained the betrayal of his fiancé, the rejection by his father, the death of his brother and pure, unadulterated hatred of the creature who had destroyed his home, his family, his future and his world. That roar contained the cry of vengeance and somewhere, a Goddess heard it and smiled….
Two thousand years later (give or take a century)
The house burned. Flames licked at the roof until the structure finally surrendered to the fiery destruction within it and the weight of the water pounding down from above and a crash shook the street. Fire fighters rushed about the controlled chaos as they tried to contain the blaze having given up saving the house and the body within. Behind the men the two fugitives from the flames sat huddled in the rear of an ambulance, one trying to convince himself that what he saw hadn't been real but the other knew in that moment of lost innocence that those yellow eyes would haunt his sleep for the rest of his life instead of the happy dreams of a child.
Little Dean Winchester huddled into his Daddy's warmth but it wasn't the same. He wanted his Mommy. Where was his Mommy? The young boy squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to forget the last time he had seen her. He tried to get the image of her bloody body surrounded by flames on the ceiling out of his mind. He tried to remember her smile, the cookies she made him, how she read him bedtime stories and to forget the shadowy figure that would forever taint his memories. He didn't understand. And where was baby Sammy? Where was his baby brother? How could he take care of Sammy if he wasn't here? And Mommy always told him to take care of Sammy. He felt his Daddy's arm tighten around him, keeping him safe. He buried his face into his Daddy's shirt, soaking the material with his tears. All the while he could feel the heat of the fire, hear the roar of the flames, and smell the odour of the smoke. And there was that other smell. The one he didn't understand. It would be many years before he recognised the stench of sulphur.