Pitch Black – chpt 2
by: sifi
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"OOOooooaaaahhhhh..." rolled faintly through his cell, the lamenting alto cry brought goose flesh with it into the chill darknesss.
"No!" he breathed snapping his eyes open and peering with a deep scowl into the velvet shadows, No, it couldn't be... it can't be... please no... his head strained against the bracket holding his neck, his ear turned toward the grate in the ceiling as the near howl faded beneath the sound of something cutting air.
His teeth clamped down on his lips to keep him from calling out, to find out if the owner of that ringing voice was his baby brother, Please don't let it be Sam! He's smart! and strong! and he's good, no way he'd be careless enough to get caught. I'm pretty good and I got caught, but I wasn't on my guard, shoulda been, but wasn't, Sam'd know to keep his guard up. It CAN'T be him. But he craned forward just the same, metal cutting into the topmost layers of the skin under his chin as a muffled panting voice stumbled through the air. Might be...so hard to tell though, pain registered in the weakness behind the indecipherable words, pain AND fear before a more dulcet, higher pitched and unstrained voice made soothing sounds. Please don't let it be Sam...I hope to hell he stays away, I hope to hell that's not my boy and...
"Deeeeaaaannn! Aaaahhhhhung," rolled into his cell once more.
"Nuho God..." Was it? No...Yes! DAMNIT! I can't tell! How can I NOT KNOW?! he choked on a sudden spring of tears while ice stabbed through his heart, the rush of his blood building pressure in his ears cut any other sound no matter how hard he listened for it, Don't say it! Don't call his name! Don't, whatever you do don't do it! It'll only make it worse for him, that bitch'll kill him! I'm gonna... the image of his hand swinging the hammer, claw side down into her face, just under the bone of her forehead and the satisfaction he would get upon pulling it up, ripping her skull apart with her own tool brought a cold smile to his lips before his stomach clenched, repulsed less by the savagery of the act he envisioned, than the satisfaction to be had from it.
"No!...No, no, no, I gotta get outta here... I gotta get the hell out of here," I gotta get US the hell out of here! He glanced to the left grunting as he jerkily moved his fingers, forcing them to work, the pulley system in his hand firing wildly as it rubbed the steel that pierced him. A fresh layer of sweat broke over him, dripping from his hair to 'plink' onto his shoulders then run down his back or chest as he panted through the flares of pain. A gentle pull against the nail in his palm brought stinging sparkles to his vision, I don't have a choice, just... fast, no! he pulled again wondering if he could slide the nail from the stone or mortar behind him. Slow then, slow... a little more pressure god please... he panted. No, it's gotta be fast, I don't know if it'll come out of the wall or what, but I have to... he could feel his resolve faltering for the myriad agonies and shock setting in. If he let shock have its way, he would never escape and he and Sam would die in separate cells at the hands of unknown enemies. Dad would never forgive me for letting us die like this! I can't let him down. One more time he pulled his palm taut against the underside of the nail, tensing everything he could despite the slow fire it ignited. He breathed hard, his energy focusing, channeling, until his lungs couldn't fill any further then held his breath and summoned his will to twist his torso with all he had, to the right.
--
He wasn't certain whether he'd lost consciousness or just awareness, either way it must've been something substantial. He came to realize in the faint light that he wasn't alone.
"Guh?" he groaned rolling his head until he felt the shallow slicing under his chin again, "shit..." he grunted remembering now. He turned his head to the left surprised at the bulging purple appendage that hung partially on the nail. "Uhnuh..." his throat stung closed against his failure. He'd only succeeded in making his situation worse by the looks of things, Way to go genius! What the hell kinda candy ass can't even...Awww Come ON! Who the hell am I? Freakin' Superman? Cut me some slack! infuriated he turned pulling again, grinding his teeth against the howl that wanted to shatter him.
"Easy there tiger, you manage to pull free and you're gonna make me look bad..." she rose from a small table in the far corner that hadn't been there before he lost awareness.
He could make out a pair of pliers, some oddly shaped scissors, a piece of wood and a gray colored coil he didn't need to see up close to identify.
I failed, again, "What the hell're you doing?" he asked slowly through the proverbial chill ran up his spine, Holy crap...it is. It's freakin' barbed wire... that can't be good... he swallowed hard into a stomach that twisted nervously inside.
She bent down, picked up her hammer and rooted around for another nail then swaggered toward him.
"It's obvious you need something else to think about... I wish I could give you my exclusive attention, but I'm afraid there are others who require my... skills. I think you know one of 'em, or he sure knows you... Dean. Dark haired guy, positively delicious build... mmm, so sweet..." she moaned rolling her eyes while the tip of her tongue slid over her lips.
Sweat poured down his face and neck, just don't pass out again dumbass, I got a feeling I won't like what I find when I wake up next time, "Doesn't ring a bell...look, whatever you're thinking about doing... you don't have to, really... you've got my undivided attention... honest..." he swallowed hard, nodding nervously against the wall while a tight smile pleaded on his lips.
Only inches away she set the hammer and nail down on the floor then pressed her hands to his chest sliding her crimson fingernails over his belly and into the waistband of both his jeans and boxers.
"Hah look... I'm flattered... really... and you know... under... oh hell..." he licked his lips grimacing with fear as her hand slid down the flat of his abdomen, her nails raking across his tenderness before her fingers wrapped around, "...uh whatever you're thinking of doing... please don't... I'll beg..." Oh shit... he bit back the sudden wave of nausea that came after his heart stopped, frozen in his chest for the span of several beats before taking off at a dead run. He swallowed against the pounding back of his throat vibrating in time with that thoroughbred beat.
She smiled beatifically, her lips millimeters from his, "I know you would..." she squeezed until tears came from his eyes then shoved his manhood aside. Breath returned to him slowly as her fingers moved to the crease of his groin seeking his femoral pulse. With another movement her arm slid up to the shoulder down his pants while her hand felt his left thigh, her fingers seeming to search for something specific.
On the outside of his jeans her other hand held the place the one inside had found and she withdrew her arm. She knelt on the floor, the hand that had been down his pants before her face, fingers splayed as she licked them one by one, "Deeeeeeelicious..." she purred then smiled placing the nail between the fingers that marked the spot. She picked up the hammer and twirled it in her hand grinning up at waxy pallor of his face. Lock the knees, don't fall, don't... oh my God no please! WHY! WHY IS SHE DOING THIS?!
"Please don't, pleasedon't pleasdon't, Please!" he shook his head feeling dizzy and breathless as she smiled, checked the angle on the nail and with careful aim, sunk the steel into him with two strikes.
On her knees on the floor, before her subject, she closed her eyes, leaned back and with her arms spread open let the voice of his pain wash over her.
--
Waves of warm fuzzy heat blanketed him, then withdrew, fanning him with cold as something soft tickled his face near his eyebrow. It was probably one of the few places he actually didn't hurt.
"Muuuhng?" he grunted then heard the sound of something quadrupedal skitter away, damn! hungry... I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date...oooh nono! bad bunny down the hole... in the back of his head he heard some inane cartoon voice saying, 'Elelator go down the hooooole...' and he bit into the earth to keep from laughing. His hand hurt too much to bite. "Pfflllthhh," he dribbled bits of dirt and pine needles and something squirming, out of his mouth. His tongue flicked out, fingers of his right hand finding the squirming thing, scooting it back into his hungry maw where his teeth ground it into fuel.
Slowly he craned his head, straining his eyes toward 'up' but it was useless. Night was all around him and the trees blotted out the sky. He couldn't even tell if the moon was up or what phase it was in.
He closed his right fist into the ground and pulled, willing his feet to scramble, his legs to work. "Aahhaaaoooowch..." he growled upon moving his left leg, the sensation of being pinned somehow reminding him of the straits he was in.
He and Sam had split up in the morning, Sam taking County Records since it was housed in the same building as the Sheriff's station, and Dean taking the library, checking their periodicals by hand since they hadn't been considerate enough to archive them all on the internet.
He thought for a moment... but hope slid out of his grasp as the visual of his cell phone crushed beneath the a well struck blow from a studded flail made him nod. It was the same instrument that had left an undoubtedly huge and agonizing, and maybe even deadly bruise on his right thigh. Nails in the left of me, flails in the right here I am... stuck in the middle with you... stuck in the middle with... ouch... pain,... no more singing, I don't feel like singing anymore, he felt his toes grab earth and push him forward, his right arm buckling beneath his chest before he pushed.
Bone ground against bone while muscles screamed and stretched, bending, twisting dryly, each movement tearing painfully in some place as he pushed himself to his knees, adjusting to the stretch, adjusting to the new position. Too many sensations to catalog, too many to do anything other than let them wash over him and try to simply endure. Slowly, sitting on his heels, his right leg and the numbing trauma from the flail stretched and the muscle fibers breathed, painful, burning but almost a little better though he couldn't say the same for his left. The muscle and tendon around the spike of steel tore and bled both inside and out. Wet warmth seeped upward through the thighs of his jeans, touching the ooze from the hole in the palm of his hand like some curious creature with a will of its own.
He breathed, rolled his head on his neck and straightened his back just enough to feel a sickening grinding and twisting of something that wasn't supposed to be there, under his skin. Oooh...eeeew, what is it? what IS it? he thought in a near panic. He began to tremble and slapped at his chest as cold night air pressed in on him, chilling the layers of waxy oils that coated his exposed skin. Even his feet were cold, get it out of me! whatever it is! I gotta get it out of me! panic inched forward as his fingers touched his chest and felt something within the layers of skin. Oh God it's moving! it's moving please tell me it's not moving... the rats! No... too thin to be a rat... eew God what IS IT! an urgent mewl drew out while his fingers found the edge of the hole but the skin was too raw. The slightest brush against the curled flesh felt like the burning of a match head against him and as much as he wanted to reach in there... he couldn't bring himself to. I gotta get help... won't someone please help me? I don't know where my brother is! I swear I'll come back for you Sammy, I'll get help and we'll come back for you, just hang on... please! he begged. Gotta move, gotta move for Sam... I know he would've come, I know he would have, and he's in there somewhere, I gotta help Sammy...gotta save my boy... he leaned forward using his good right arm to brace himself as he slowly tried to force his body to get him to his feet. His heart pounded in his chest with the effort, blood and sweat ran over him and his breath came in small choked puffs. Whimpers colored the night with the thought of his baby hurting like this, being put through what that bitch had done to him, and a sob popped free to caper away. The sudden image of Sam wrapped from head to toe in blankets the day he was brought home, that same image that was his first memory of the life he'd been entrusted with, made his eyes swim and his mouth bow down, shaking, "Gah Sam...SAMMY!" he screamed into the night then pawed the grime from his face. He sniffed his desperation back, for his boy, he could get up.
Sharp pointy things poked and bit at his bare feet as he took his first tentative step with his right arm flailing in front of him, feeling the darkness. Move...c'mon move...up... he leaned forward, toes dragging under the forest detritus where cold things wriggled between them, many of them drawn toward the surface in the hopes of moisture from the recent rains. He set the ball of his foot down, each motion piling new muscle onto the fire that burned in his thigh where that other nail resided, I should pull it out... I should... my leg would work... he thought shifting his weight, his teeth clenched and grinding, his uncertain pleas wordless beyond his screaming mind no one's gonna help me... no one's gonna come, and why should they? What if... what if I deserve this? What if I'm supposed to die alone? No! No one deserves to die like this... not EVEN me, no matter how often I've blown it, gotta move... gotta get help. His throat worked against the dust he felt inside as he changed his tactic and tried to hop his right leg forward, after all... it's just bruised right? I stretched it a bit... got some blood to the area right? right? Pull the nail out! Will I ever NOT feel this again? Feels like a blowtorch... gotta save Sam... need to move... mmm pecan pie would be so good... with a nice big glass of milk... some middle 'o nowhere greasy spoon with incredible Pecan Pie... man a sugar bomb in the belly, oh GOD yes! mmm c'mon Sam we'll go get pie... can't we just BE THERE already?... his left foot dragged the earth again, the overstuffed sausages of his fingers trembled, his nails flicking absently at the edge of the nail head through his jeans.
A shift in his weight, a spasm of his left arm snagged the piece of steel in his leg, twisting his left hand, tearing open the greenish seal that had formed on both sides of the hole, his broken radius shot an angry firebolt straight up his arm and into his left ear, leaving a furious blast of napalm behind in his elbow. The left knee caved to the embers that burned within, the right leg hopped forward to compensate, to keep him up but the crushed muscles were too slow.
"Ungh..." his right arm came down in front of him as did his mangled left. He would've sworn a glass rod was shattering lengthwise into his shoulder and up into itself. Dean bit his tongue, tasting blood as his teeth chattered and his body blazed in a spectacular white nova of fire. Consciousness retreated to what it thought was a safer place.
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tbc.
Please R&R.
Thank You.
sifi .