Title: Torture.
Rating: T. I strongly advise that if you don't like gory stuff- not to read this.
Character(s): Based on Dean Winchester.
Spoilers: If you haven't seen season four, don't read. :)
Summary: Just a One-Shot. It's just my views on what it was like for Dean in hell... and how he was both a victim and a torturer. It's just an in-depth description of how I believe Hell must be like. Just a blurb. R&R, please! I'd really like to know what ya'll think about this one.
Inspiration: When Dean broke down whilst telling Sam what he did in Hell- I absolutely felt his pain. (Not that I've ever been a torturer in Hell or anything... *COUGH* ;P!) He just wanted to make me pour my heart out.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. The end. But if I did, Dean wouldn't be so sad all the time, awwww. :(
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Torturer.
Surely no one knew what it was like; waking up on this precious Earth after living in hell for countless months. After being torn apart by tools and blades that are beyond one's imagination- created to destroy not only one's body, but one's being. Weapons crafted to eliminate the memory of what it means to be human- destroying every emotion other than hatred and pain. Bathing in blood for month after month- eyes focusing on nothing other than the tearing of one's own flesh, and the smell of boiling, bubbling and burning of bones, skin and blood. The sparkle of blood-splashed razor blades, tearing apart everything that once made you who you were- making you forget everything other than this living hell. The screams of victims tortured in the dark and red night of the fiery pit echoed on forever; their blood curling shouts the normal soundtrack to where they resided. And at the end of the day, as though by devil's magic, you were healed.
Just for it to begin all over again.
And the only thought processing in the victims mind while being ripped limb from limb was the fact that they would rather die than to face this horrible torture. Please, They would pray, let me die. And then the fact sinks in.
They already did.
Every day upon Dean Winchesters awakening; Hell was the first thought in his mind. It was a memory burned into his head- something he could never forget. No matter how hard he tried, Dean would always remember Hell and how he felt there. Every night he heard the shouts echoing in his mind; accompanied by the hundreds of faces of the one's he himself burned, tortured and ripped apart. The sound of the once so feared razor blade now at his hand. That power in his grasp, all the pain he felt while living- pouring out of him in the form of torture and destruction, tearing apart the innocent victims just to ease his own soul.
And every day upon Dean Winchesters awakening; he regretted every second of what he had done. But that wasn't nearly enough for him to even begin to forgive himself. There was no way for Dean to ever forgive himself for what he had done- nothing in this world could ever make that okay. He tortured, burned and destroyed humans. He found pleasure in making them scream for the one's they'd never see again. He laughed at their begging, and smirked at their tears. And with a snap of his fingers, he would start all over again.
Had he so easily forgotten what it was like to be on the wrack? Had he forgotten what it was like to scream Sammy's name at the top of his lungs in the hope that he could see his brothers face just one more time? Had he forgotten what it was like to lay soaking in his own precious blood? Had he forgotten the eternal physical and mental pain that was thrown upon him with each cut into his flesh?
Maybe that's what he was trying to forget when torturing those hell bound souls. But let the fact stand: Dean Winchester would never forget. Whether in Hell, Heaven or on Earth- Dean would never allow himself to forget. Even if he began to.
Because remembering his victims faces, and listening to their screams in his mind every single day; as heartbreaking and self-destructive as it was; it was the only way that Dean could make peace with himself every morning.
It was the only way he got on living each day.
And in the meantime, he would save as many lives as he could while hunting down the evil sons of bitches that made him feel this way in the first place- whether it be demons, spirits or whatever the hell else there was to kill. Killing the supernatural was the only way that Dean made it through day after day after day.
After all, he's meant to be dead.
What else did he have to live for?
