A/N: I decided it was time for a new Supernatural fic. Updates will be pretty regular because I've finished my exams for the year. I hope you enjoy it :)
Prologue
The world is full of kings and queens who blind your eyes and steal your dreams; it's heaven and hell.
-Black Sabbath
Rage.
It was all consuming, pounding behind his eyelids, gnawing at his heart. His entire being was an inferno of bloodlust and malice. There was nothing else, no soul, no thought, no light, just the ceaseless throbbing anger.
Somewhere, in another world of consciousness and rationality, Dean knew that he should be dead. He remembered the ice of the blade sliding into his chest and the rush of life pouring from the ragged wound. He'd known death. Death was pain, then it was cold, then it was nothing, nothing until you woke and stared down at your brother sobbing over a mangled body as your screaming soul was dragged away between the jaws of a hellhound…
No, he was not dead.
The pulsing energy was spreading. It flowed like water down his arms, across his torso, up to his head, relearning muscle and nerve and bone. His body was almost vibrating with the intensity of it. He could feel every fibre of his clothing as though it was woven from wire, the air was simultaneously freezing and stiflingly hot, his heart and lungs worked furiously, needlessly. Yet he still felt alien in this form.
Then his arm burned like he had been branded with fire as his fingers clenched down on bone and the final piece slotted into place. Faintly at first, but then growing louder and louder in painful waves, the world rushed in with a roar.
"…howl at the moon."
He opened his eyes.
He looked for the source of the voice.
He saw, for the first time, the true face of the King of Hell.