In the end
By
TheaWalker
Prologue
Disclaimer – None of the characters belong to me… though I really wish they did
Author Note – Here's story four! I'm really on a roll. The other three will be updated soon! This story is going to be rather dark I fear.
There was blood everywhere.
Everywhere he looked he could see it, the smell of it causing him to choke. God how could there be so much of it.
The walls were the same walls from the motel that he and Sammy had checked into earlier. The pale blue had stood out for him, reminded him of another room from his childhood before everything had changed. They stayed in the cheapest, dirtiest motels in their quest to stay hidden from the authority, Motels where the walls were always garish and bright, the pale blue had been different, almost soothing. For a moment he had actually believed that he could sleep there peacefully.
Now it was splattered with blood, streams of red, dripping down steadily leaving patterns which caused him to cringe away. He could remember reading a book once which had spoken about water torture and how it had been used in the ancient times as a way to break the strongest of men. At the time he had scoffed of the idea but now he understood.
His mouth fell open in a silent cry for mercy. He wanted to cry out, anything to break the sound of dripping but all that he managed was a faint choking sound followed by a deep, desperate sucking sound as he tried to force air back into his depleted lungs.
He looked down his eyes widening when he saw the state of his hands, hands which looked as though he had bathed in blood, the liquid looking black in the faint light of the room.
Where the hell had all the blood come from?
Why was there so much? It was all he could see, all he could smell he could even taste it on his tongue, the coppery metallic flavour making his stomach churn.
He forced himself from his knees to his feet, his eyes closing when his bare feet sank into the blood soaked carpet.
He had to get out; nothing else mattered except leaving that room. He needed fresh air; he needed to be away from all the blood before he drowned in it.
He managed one step before his eyes flew open at a sound, the sound of someone forcing air into lungs which had long ceased working. His head turned against his will towards the bed.
There was a figure on the bed,
He wanted to escape but instead of heading towards the door, his body twisted and he slowly began walking towards the bed, the effort of lifting his feet draining him of whatever strength he had left. His breathing was loud and ragged in his ears.
He knew even before his hand reached out, turning the figure over on the bed, the head flopping to the side barely attached to the scarred torso.
Sam's sightless eyes stared into his, accusing even in his death.
Sam was dead.
He was still staring when the head lifted off the pillow, a blood stained hand coming up and wrapping it self round his neck squeezing.
Then Sam spoke.
"You did this, take a long look, you did this Dean. You killed me"
The hand released him as the head dropped down again.
He stared for a moment, a sharp feeling building in his chest causing him to bend over clutching at his heart.
Sam was dead and it was his fault.
Author Note – Please review though no flames. Chapter one will be up soon