Missy's Revenge by laceym

Chapter 1

The water dripped from the ceiling and ricocheted on the floor. The bowed head between the handcuffed wrists jerked awake. The green eyes blinked furiously as they

scanned the room. There was stiffness in his shoulders from being locked in this uncomfortable position. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and fought to think

through the headache. He didn't know where he was but fear and panic weren't options. He swallowed the terror he felt rising as he wondered where his brother was. He

took a deep steadying breath and waited.

The door creaked openly slowly as the thin foot entered the room. The girl couldn't have been more than 15, but there was something oddly familiar about her.

"Dean Winchester," she hissed.

"Well," Dean sighed. "You got me at a disadvantage sweetheart."

There was a sound slap across his face and he winced slightly for she held something metallic in her hand. He tasted blood.

"You're going to pay," she whispered.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded.

"You'll find out," she replied.

She struck him a second time and there was darkness as he blacked out.

Dean came awake again and this time the headache was greater than before. There was something familiar about that girl. He couldn't place her but he knew that she

couldn't be alone either. He thought back to the last memory he had. He was walking back to the motel room when he was hit from behind and then he woke up in this

room. There was no way that that slight girl could have carried him to this place. He closed his eyes for a moment as the searing pain shot through his head. He felt

nauseous but fought the reflex that accompanied it. He took a deep breath and attempted to get his bearings. He needed to know where Sam was. He needed to know

that Sam was still alive. He didn't go through what he went through to lose his brother now, especially not to some slight teenager who was probably off her meds.

Dean began tugging on the restraints. The handcuffs were solid and above his head. He tried to stand but discovered that his feet were chained as well. He rotated his

neck and blinked furiously. He moved his wrists and attempted to bend his fingers. It was no use. The handcuffs were secure and he had nothing to pick them open with

"I really got to start carrying those paperclips," he murmured.

He looked around the room and narrowed his gaze.

The room was dark but he could make out the dimensions of the room. It was narrow and smelled of rust and decay. The place was probably abandoned. He glanced up

and saw that he was chained to some kind of meat hook.

"Great, some kind of freaking freezer in a cabin in the middle of nowhere," he muttered. "Come on Sam, where are you?"

He rocked his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was made of wood and he sighed.

"Dean, you got to figure this thing out," he continued. "Who is that girl? Why is she so familiar?"

He kept his train of thought on trying to figure a way out of this situation. Panic was not going to help.

The door creaked open and the frail figure re – entered the room. Dean glared at her. She took her time walking across the room, but kept herself shrouded in shadow.

"You going to tell me what you want?" Dean demanded.

"In time you'll find out," she hissed.

"Sweetheart, isn't there some hospital missing you from its patient roster?" Dean taunted.

"You're scared of me," she crowed.

Dean arched his eyebrow. "You're a misguided child," he shook his head.

She lunged forward and struck him across the face.

Dean tasted the blood as his lip split open for the second time. "Huh, hit a nerve did I?"

"Shut up," she screeched.

Dean kept his mouth shut as he caught sight of the razor blade in her hand. He steeled himself for what was to come next.

She leaned forward. "No more things to say?" she crowed.

"Nope," Dean shook his head. "Whatever it is that you're planning on doing darling, just do it."

"Such bravery," she ran the flat edge of the blade along his jaw. "Such a pretty face too."

Dean remained silent.

She knelt close to him and lifted his shirt up and traced the blade along his stomach. Dean kept his jaw clenched. He prepared himself for what she was about to do. He

felt when the blade angled and began slicing into his skin. He winced with the pain and fought against the impulse to scream. She was taking great pleasure in what she

was doing.

The door behind them creaked and the girl stopped what she was doing. Dean frowned as he realized that another person must also be present, but he failed to make out

the person who hid behind the door.

"What?" she called behind her.

There was no response. She stood and walked through the door. He strained to hear the conversation but they were in the other room and spoke in hushed tones. He

worried about where this was headed. Sam wasn't with him, but how long before Sam was dragged into this trap as well.

Dean struggled to keep himself still and hoped that she hadn't cut too deeply. He felt numb in his arms and legs and a strong headache was building behind his eyes. He

lowered his head and saw the blood streak the front of his pants. He flexed his shoulders and wondered what else lay in store for him. His thoughts strayed back to Sam

in the motel room. He had left to get beer and food. He hoped that Sam was tracking his location and playing smart while at it.

The door creaked again and the girl came back in the room. Dean closed his eyes and waited for the pain. But nothing happened. His eyes snapped open and he found her

staring at him.

"You're not much fun," she commented.

"I'm usually the life of the party," Dean shrugged.

"Perhaps your brother will be more fun," she smiled.

"You leave my brother out of this!" Dean grunted.

She erupted in laughter. Dean studied her carefully and felt real fear in that moment. This girl was quite insane. He narrowed his stare at her. Her hair was straggly and

her clothes were threadbare. Her skin was pasty and yellow underneath her eyes. She looked undernourished and abused. In fact, she would have elicited pity from him,

if she didn't have him chained to the ceiling and floor and wasn't busy cutting into him with a razor blade.

She looked behind her at the shadowy figure just beyond the door.

"I'm not going to kill him," she said to the person behind the door. "Yet," she added.

"That's a relief," Dean sighed.

She looked back at him. "Your brother must be looking for you by now."

"Yeah, Sammy's a busy guy," Dean shrugged. "He's not going to miss me for a few weeks maybe."

She screwed up her face. "I can always call him."

"Go ahead," Dean challenged.

She studied him carefully. "I'm supposed to give you water."

"No thanks," Dean replied.

"Hmm," she mused.

She turned and walked through the door closing it firmly behind her.

Dean sighed as he drew an unsteady breath. He couldn't figure her out. Her eyes were dead and he knew that she wasn't possessed. A demon wouldn't play around the

way she was doing it. A demon wouldn't need anyone to help her. She would possess the strength to do this on her own and she would have both of them at the same

time. Which meant that she had to be a person.

"People are crazy," Dean whispered. "Come on Sammy, get here."