Thanks for reading and all the awesome reviews. I apologize in advance for dean's mouth lol. I really feel bad for doing this to Dean =( poor baby. Again I own nothing and so on
Over the next four hours Sam grew increasingly nervous. They were on a witch-hunt in the middle of Dannersville Iowa. A witch was terrorizing this sleepy small town. So far 6 men between the ages of 17 and 26 had disappeared in 30 years. Apparently his dad thought this was sufficient to check out. There was nothing out of ordinary about his town. This was not what was causing Sam's apprehension. At 17 and a half, Dean had just entered the witch's preferred age range and now he was missing. It did not take a genius (or in Dean's words a "weird ass geek") to figure it out. He prayed desperately that was not what happened.
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It took Dean's eyes close to a minute to adjust to the newfound light spilling into his chamber. He was right about one thing; he was crumpled up on a cold stone floor. Well that solves one mystery now on to the next million. Let's start with why can't I move? That would be really handy to know! A pair of rough yet feminine hands grabbed his leg and dragged him across the rough floor.
He fought back the scream that was rising from his throat. White-hot pain was exploding from his leg. He spared a cursory glance down his leg. His mind took a few seconds to catch up with his body. Why is there a white stick thing sticking out of my leg? HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Dean must have blacked out from the pain because the next thing he knew he was in a larger room with some strange symbols painted everywhere. He still couldn't get a clear look t his capture. Whoever this bitch is she is seriously starting to piss me off. When I get my hands on her I'm going to – Dean's train of thought was cut off by a swift kick to the ribs. He could have sworn he heard bones cracking. It was followed up by another kick to the stomach. Dean doubled over in pain as all the air was forcefully expelled from his lungs. The feet kept flying as she landed another blow to Dean's head. His vision whited out and he couldn't hear anything for bout a good minute. A lone tear escaped dean's eye and traced a path through the grime on Dean's cheek. He could worry about being tough and manly later. Right now he was in some serious pain.
"Now, now Deany I won't hurt you to bad. After all I need you alive if I want the ritual to work," she crooned in his ear. Dean was too far-gone to try and determine her cryptic message.
"And what if I don't want to play ball?"
His only answer was a reign of fists that would have made Mike Tyson proud. Dean slipped into the welcoming embraces of unconsciousness.
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"Hey Bobby it's John." John tried to keep its tone light despite the gravity of the situation.
"What'd you do this time ya damn ijit?"
"You remember that witch hunt you sent me on?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"When this kind of witch takes its victims, does it keep them alive?"
"Yeah, breaks 'em up so they can't get away then keeps 'em for a couple of days. Why?"
"The witch has Dean."