Okay.. I am officially the worst person in the world. I have so many unfinished fics it isn't even funny and I don't even have an excuse. I just lose interest in them, that or I get completely overrun by some new idea, or in this case, some new fandom. I just.. /sigh/ Forgive me?
So, I'm new(ish) to the Supernatural fandom. A friend of mine just wouldn't shut up about the show so finally I agreed to watch one episode. A day and a half later I'd finished the season. Yeah. So after watching all available episodes on Netflix and failing to find anywhere that I could watch season 8 online, I decided to write this. The plot was inspired in part by Hiddlestoner1998 through her story Hunting the Hunters, but it was really heavy on the Destiel smut, which kinda made me feel a bit awkward reading it. But it's good nonetheless. If you like this, I suggest you check it out.
Disclaimer: I am only putting this on chapter one. They're Kripke's toys. I just like to play with them now and again. I promise I'll put them back in one piece.. Kinda.
Rating: High T to a Medium(ish) M. There will be cursing, blood, gore, torture, intense and persistent violence, slight sexual allusions, and adult themes.
Sam inhaled slowly, the familiar and welcome scent of brimstone and flames burning down his throat and into his lungs, making the Boy King of Hell almost purr with delight. Tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at his lips, the yellow eyed demon looked over to the others, who were either arriving or were already present.
Dean sauntered into the hall side by side with Alistair, the white eyed demons arguing, and it made Sam chuckle quietly. The two were always bickering over something or another. It was usually critique over ones tactics being taken too seriously, or arguing over one was too easy or too rough with some of the souls on the rack. Despite the fact that Dean was younger, and his corporeal form was shorter, it was hard to decipher which demon held the higher authority.
Alastair had been in Hell longer, and had been older when he'd first been brought to his damnation, but what Dean lacked in age and experience, he made up for in attitude and expertise. Sam had seen both in action himself, and it was hard for him to say which was more adept in torturing those on the rack. Alastair could easily draw a soul to the very brink of tolerance, not that one could lose consciousness in Hell. Dean however, well, he made it look like a dance, pushing a soul to the very outer limits of their endurance, and he did it slowly, drawing out every single ounce of agony. It was hard to tell which was worse. Sam wouldn't want to be under the knife of either of them, that was for sure, not that either of them would ever dare, of course.
Castiel was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out before him, black eyes glistening as he spoke to Meg with a grin. It seemed that the two were always together, as they had been for about a hundred years, and both Sam, Dean, and Ruby joked that the two were like an old married couple, always squabbling but never admitting to even liking each others company. Plus, there was the whole Meg calling him Clarence, something none of them understood, seeing how the angel reference didn't make much sense once one saw the extreme psychological damage Castiel could do to a soul, living or otherwise. Ruby called him the Devil's therapist.
Speaking of Ruby, the fiery demon sauntered into the room, taking the form of her favorite blonde meat suit. She promptly trotted up to Sam, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning up to nip at his jaw teasingly. Grinning almost maniacally, Sam moved to capture her lips in a fierce kiss, rough and demanding. A moment later, they broke apart, both smirking as Dean pretended to gag behind Alistair, who laughed. Sam took a step toward him, eyes flashing a brighter golden and his hand raised. The fake retching stopped immediately as Sam's fist closed, and Dean doubled over, blood dripping out of his mouth, as did Alistair, though the latter looked up at Sam with a bloody grin, the ancient demon's masochistic personality relishing in the pain. Sam stopped at the word of Ruby, the only one who dared to intervene in the King of Hell's dealing of punishment.
"It's not his fault, they're just bored." She commented, wrapping her hand around her lover's wrist. Giving a small tug on his arm, the demoness lured him away from the Torture Masters, who looked immensely relieved at her intervention. "We all are." She continued, attempting to calm the rage of the King of Hell somewhat with the gentle patterns traced on his arm with her finger. "Perhaps a hunting trip is in order?" It was more of a plea than a suggestion and they all knew it. "Crowley can take care of things for a while.. You know how desperate the poor fool is to prove himself."
All demons in the hall shared hopeful glances with one another, knowing full well that if anyone was convincing Sam to do anything, it was Ruby. Castiel, perhaps, was the most eager to get above ground to hunt, mainly so he could get revenge on one Rufus Turner, whom had exorcised him on his last trip to Earth. Okay, so maybe he still had his favorite meat suit, being on good terms with the King of Hell did have it's advantages, but he was gonna kill the old man on principle.
"Alright." Sam agreed a moment later, nodding. He noticed the shocked looks geared at him from throughout the room and shrugged, not providing an explanation for his answer, which usually would've had have been begged and pleaded for. He clicked his fingers lazily, summoning Crowley to the hall. Said demon appeared promptly, straightening his coat and trying not to appear intimidated by the several higher ranking souls, if you could call them souls.
"Yes?" He asked, trying to sound confident, though he shrunk some and added on a somewhat squeaky "sir?" As he earned a reproachful look from every demon in the room. Knowing full well that each and every one of them could kill him with a bat of an eyelash, Crowley gave up on trying to be too prideful. He did value his own existence, after all. Self preservation came before pride. Way, way before it. "Did you need something?" He asked in what he hoped was a more respectful voice.
Castiel and Dean shared amused smirks at Crowley's attempt at being humble as Sam explained that he, Ruby, Dean, and Cas were headed out on a hunting trip, and that Crowley was to notify him of any disturbances or news that was of import, while Meg and Alistair would be in control.
"Is that damn car of yours still loaded up?" Castiel asked Dean a few moments later as the four of them headed toward the nearest portal to Earth, drawing it out by walking instead of just popping up there, the waiting and slowness drove them crazy, like taunting a starving lion with a steak before setting it loose on a herd of sheep. Ruby smirked somewhere behind Castiel, black eyes glinting in amusement as Dean reacted as he always did when taunted about the Impala he kept outside of Hell. That is, with indignation.
"Don't mock the car dude." He snapped irritably, not looking the others in the eye. He had no explanation as to his fondness for the car, it certainly wasn't the most efficient way to travel. He just liked it, like Ruby liked french fries or Castiel liked bumblebees.
"I have never seen a demon love a car so much." Sam commented from ahead of them all, his six foot four frame dominating over them all, though his voice was light enough, and he wasn't being sarcastic. That alone meant that he was in a relatively good mood. Despite the good spirits on the part of Sam, Dean didn't dare retaliate. He knew full well that the yellow eyed demon was close to bipolar, with his emotions changing rapidly. No way that any of them were testing that, considering that he had a temper to rival his sire's.
They all knew the story of how the human that had once been a boy called Sam became their undisputed and unquestioned leader. Centuries ago, some time in the early thirteen hundreds, about the time when several harsh diseases broke out,, a young woman had made a deal with a yellow eyed demon for her husband's life. In return for his resurrection, she allowed him entrance into her home a few months later after the birth of their first child, a boy named Sam. Azazel, the yellow eyed demon, had snatched the boy from his crib when he was only a few months old, raising him alone and nourishing him with his own blood. The story went that throughout his entire life, Azazel groomed the boy for greatness among hell, teaching him to kill and torture by way of the men, women, and children who got lost in the forest. By the time that he was nearing his thirtieth year, he was more demon than human, and the yellow eyed demon deemed him ready. Sam took his own life, where he was dispatched to hell and reunited with Azazel, whom he considered his father. Once fully demon, Sam's eyes flashed yellow like his father's, making the pair the only two yellow eyed demons, and he claimed nearly complete control over Hell.
Needless to say, they all knew better than to piss him off. No doubt, that Sam was the coldest, strongest, and fiercest among them, and his wrath was something that none of them desired. So Dean didn't even bat an eye to the jibe against the car, and instead walked with the others away from the hellfire and screaming and into the coolness of a fall night on Earth.
At first, Sam had considered keeping their human bodies preserved within the gates of hell to be foolish, though when he began hunting, he noted the usefulness of a body he was familiar with. A body whose tells and secrets and scars were all his own. In a conversation in which the details are pointless to elaborate on, Castiel had convinced Sam to create replicas of their human bodies whenever they ventured out of hell and onto their hunting grounds of Earth. It had proved ever useful, and he acted upon that now, yellow irises fading to a warm hazel.
He turned to watch Dean's eyes fade to green, as well as Cas's cross to the brilliant blue he'd had in life. Ruby's were a dark brown, almost black. They looked here as they looked in hell, with the exception of their eyes. The energy that flowed between them all was like electricity as they braced themselves for the delirious rush that would come with the kill of a hunter under their blades.
Almost shaking with anticipation for the coming hunt, Dean advanced toward the dusty black Impala, stroking the hood almost fondly to rid it of the thin layer of dirt that covered it.
Castiel advanced toward the rear of the car, his shoes making crunching noises on the old, cracked pavement beneath his feet, grass and weeds poking up between cracks in the obviously abandoned lot. He yanked the trunk open quickly, before raising his head to look over it at the others.
"So who's first? My vote's on Rufus Turner. Bastard exorcised me on my last trip up top." Castiel called out as he began digging through the various weapons and tools held within the compartment under the trunk.. Without waiting for a reply, he slid a fistful of weapons, guns and knives both, across the top of the car for the others whilst he himself pocketed a bowie-knife and placed the .22 Magnum somewhere within the trench coat he always wore up here. He watched the rest of them take weapons, each pocketing their personal knife and gun, with Dean taking the extra blade left atop the roof.
"Rufus is lying low somewhere in Kansas." Sam stated in response, his eyes losing focus for a moment as he allowed himself to see beyond himself, something that growing up on demon's blood permitted him to do, even after his human life. "Little town called Lawrence." He specified, looking up at the others. "I've heard there's some other hunters up in Lawrence. A little family of them, no less. The Winchesters and the Campbells. They even share some… history.. with one of my brothers. Could be fun." He suggested with a shrug, as if he didn't matter who he killed, as long as somebody died.
"Oh, those the sons of bitches that exorcised Andrew a few years ago?" Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow as he slid into the driver's seat. "I'm game for that."
"Revenge kills are usually the best." Ruby commented, sliding into the backseat next to Castiel. "Cassy here gets revenge on Rufus, and you get revenge on that Adam Winchester kid. Then we all have fun with the rest." She paused, a sadistically happy smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "And you know how hunting families are. We kill one, and the rest will practically be lining up for the slaughter." He voice lowered to something like a purr as she looked at her lover, who currently occupied the passenger seat.
"Lawrence it is then." Dean confirmed, pulling out of the deserted lot as the engine roared to life. A mere hour later, and the four demons were headed for Lawrence, Kansas. They all found it extremely appropriate as Highway to Hell began to blast out of the radio.
So, this was the first chapter/prologue thingy. Probably the closest thing to a tame chapter that ya'll are getting. I have a very dark, f'd up mind, and I write this crap when I'm angry or upset.. So I do warn you for what's coming in terms of this story.
Thank you for reading, reviews are always appreciated, and I'll see you guys next chapter, or at least I hope.
~TheFallenArchangel