Chapter 2! I'm totally writing this in school instead of finals (because I don't have any)! Yay! I hope you enjoy, this was what I could finish before next period. I haven't answered reviews because my email is being weird and I can't even figure out what review is what. So thanks to ANYONE who reviewed, and I hope you continue to like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. At all. Ever.
Consciousness came to him in bouts. First, his ears popped like they would after a pain, then the fuzziness crawled into his brain. He was slowly aware of soft blankets around him and the sound of a record playing some kind of crappy opera around him. He opened his eyes with some difficulty. There was a wall above him, slanted, placing him in an attic of some kind.
He sat up and looked around. It was a nice attic, with shining hardwood floors and patterned carpets lining the way to the stairs, which were framed with carved, artistic railings. He rubbed at his eyes, looking around. He had been tossed unceremoniously onto a bed, his head sinking into the piles of green, satin pillows and his legs sliding off the mattress. The bed was squeezed into a corner, guarded by two bookshelves that towered on either end.
"Sam?" he croaked. "Dad?"
He blinked slightly. Dad. That was right. John had been with them. He rubbed his head, which responded with a dull ache. There had been vampires, they had disobeyed an order, killed some vampires, saved John, and he'd stayed. Dean blinked. That much he remembered. He remembered driving, bickering with Sam, pulling over, but as he tried to trace his memories they got fuzzier and fuzzier.
He'd gone out for food, right? He was driving in the Impala, looking for something to eat… Chinese, maybe?
He tried to remember after that but came up blank without fail. He looked around the neat attic, the green walls, the matching pillows and rugs. It seemed like a cozy place, not a monster's lair. The music in the background scratched, drawing his attention. He stood, wobbling slightly before gaining his balance, deciding to find the source of the music. Maybe it would come with a person, someone who could explain what was going on to him.
He'd probably managed to get hit by a car or something while getting food and had murmured something about 'no hospitals' to the driver who had taken him home in pity. He just hoped that his car hadn't been involved, because if there was even a scratch on the Impala he was going to blow a gasket.
There was a faint light coming from above the stairs which lit his way. As he passed the electrical socket, he realized it was a nightlight. He shook his head at the faint protections people seemed to deem necessary, but he guess a silly little night light was worth not tumbling down the stairs head first. He walked down the stairs.
It was dark downstairs, and he bumped into a few bookshelves, stools and a piano before he found something looking like a lamp. His hands searched blindly for a switch on it, and he finally found it. With some fumbling, he turned the lamp on.
And then stumbled back from it as fast as he could, hitting the piano and smashing on of the ornaments on it to the floor. He could feel his breath coming faster.
The lamp was made of a skull. A real, honest to God, and Dean could tell the difference, human skull. The light bulb was attached above the skull, a mockery of the "Light bulb!" moments of humanity. In the neat, color coded decoration around it, the skull-lamp was a clear message. Whoever owned his house was not an innocent bystander.
The music stopped. Dean had honestly never heard a more terrifying silence. He ran to one of the windows and smashed it out with his elbow. Or rather, he tried to. The glass didn't give way, his elbow bouncing off and sending a shock of pain down his nerves. He cursed, looking around in panic for the nearest door.
He ran to the next room, which then opened to a hallway. At the end of the hallway, there was a door, large and beautiful, a door to the outside. He ran for it, not stopping until his hand was on the doorknob and his body was flush with the door. He tried to turn the knob, but it would not give way. He cursed again, throwing his shoulder against the door. It didn't budge, and he stumbled back, surveying it.
It should have come down. It wasn't a big door, wasn't that bad, but it stood straight. Unless he had weakened considerably since last being awake, that door was made not to budge by something supernatural. It said quite a bit about his life that the second option was more likely.
He looked around desperately. The house was like a maze, doors heading into rooms on all sides, hallways here and there going who knows where, but he could see white tile in one of the nearby rooms through the two doors in between his current hallway and the room. He hoped that was the kitchen, and ran for it.
As he skidded on the tile, he could see pots and pans on the clean counters. He sighed in relief and started shifting through drawers. "Come on, come on," he whispered. He found a knife which looked, to the best of his judging ability, like silver, salt, and an iron skillet, then gripped the knife and the open salt shaker in his hand, the skillet on the floor next to him, and crouched defensively.
It was not a moment too soon, he realized, because the floor creaked nearby just a moment later. He braced himself for whatever was about to come as the footsteps, almost silent, drew nearer. A figure stepped inside and he didn't wait to see what it was before tossing the salt on it and throwing the knife into its leg. He would apologize later if he was wrong.
The figure didn't even stop. He could see now it was a woman, tall, with a good figure and long blonde hair. He didn't stop to admire her, though, and dove for the skillet. As the woman neared, he leaped up and hit her with all his might with the skillet.
She swayed slightly, the weight of the blow pulling one of her feet from the floor for just a moment, but she snapped back in just a second, grabbing onto his wrist with one hand and pulling the skillet from him with the other. She smiled, her lips bright red and perfectly curved. "Dean," she cooed. "Do you really think I'm going to go through all this trouble to take you and leave you a working weapon in the house?"
She didn't allow a reply, however, her hands latching onto his upper arms and lifting him onto the counter, smashing his head into the cabinets roughly. His head swam with the impact, but he did his best to sit up straight. He tried to form words, come up with a comeback, but she was already speaking again. "Points for effort, though," she said, one hand freeing his arm to wrench his hand out in front of him.
He curled his fingers into a fist instinctively, trying to kick her away. He would have had more luck wresting a rhinoceros. She pushed him against the cabinets with ease and uncurled his pointing finger with her own pointer and thumb.
There was a loud crack as the forced finger was snapped like a twig. It was the same arm that he had used to unsuccessfully try to break the door and the window with, and the resulting spasm of pain sent reverberating twinges through his shoulder and his elbow. He gasped for air, feeling nausea and dizziness hit him full power.
The woman (or whatever she was) threw him to the ground. He brought his hand up to his chest protectively, catching himself with his good arm, and used the momentum to run, taking any twist and turn he could find. He ran until he needed to take a breath, finding a small cranny between a sofa and a wall in which to hide for a moment. It seemed that the woman hadn't followed him, because as he tried to catch his breath with his hand clasped over his mouth, nothing happened.
He gasped for air. Panic bubbled up, but he forced it down. There had to be a way out. A way to fight her. He shook his head. What did this creature even want? He hugged his broken finger protectively. It didn't matter. All that matter was to stay alive until he found a way out or his family came and found him.
Nevermind that he had no idea how to do that.
Hope you enjoyed! It's a little rushed, I know, but I might have another chapter up today! Review, however you feel about it, good, bad, it's all good!
