Dean had been in many scary situations in his life, but this one, he concluded, was the most terrifying. He watched helplessly as the icy cold water level slowly, continuously rose, drenching him into cold numbness. The effects of which reminded him of a night at the bar with far too many drinks. He tried once more to free his hands, but the cold steel didn't move; it never moved. He felt like a slaughtered pig, hung up in the fridge to keep the meat from rotting.
The tension in his shoulders was worsening as his legs became too numb to bear his weight. He often pictured his own death; always in a spectacular, heroic way. Saving someone else, going down with a fight. But never in his mind did he picture drowning in an underground water way.
"S-S-Shit…" his shaky voice was barely audible between his chattering teeth. "M'on S-S-Sammy…." The skin around his writs was raw and bleeding, evidence of his many attempts to free himself. He had no doubts that Sam would now be trying to find him but wondered how in the world his younger brother would even know where to begin looking.
The demon had been kind enough to leave him his cell phone but it would have been just the same if it was in China. The small device lay in his front jacket pocket, unreachable to his hands tied above his head. Every once in a while he would hear its ring tone, signalling an incoming call; a lifeline, just out of his reach. Demons were cruel, that was only thing they never tried to hide.
In just under five hours, the water had risen to his torso; he hated to think about how much longer it would take to completely submerge him. A constant shiver ran through his body and his mind slowly became clouded by the cold. He started feeling the effects of hypothermia and wished to God that Sam found him before it was too late.
His eye lids drooped down as he tried again to free his hands, his efforts becoming weaker with every passing hour. He tried to think of a plan of escape, but his mind refused to cooperate. At first he could see his own breath in the cold air, but now it seemed that all warmth had escaped his body, leaving him hollow and numb.
The water was nearly up to his chin, but Dean barely noticed. His mind also failed to notice the faint echoes of his name being called in the long tunnels. It didn't matter to him. His primal instincts of survival were crushed and he was more than ready to just let go.
To let go of everything.
Even himself.