Chapter Three

Sam lay in the long warm grass and gazed up at the fragments of blue sky he glimpsed between the long swaying branches and leaves of the giant oak stretched above him. None of it was real, the tree, the sky, the grass, the birdsong, but it was enough. Michael had won this respite for him, had waved his arm, which had taken them to this wondrous meadow, and then let Sam be.

Closing his eyes, Sam smoothed silky blades of grass between his fingers, let his palms sink into the cool soil, memorizing each sensation. Though relaxed and truly truly grateful for this tiny sliver of peace, Sam also knew enough to arm himself with it. Take the restfulness, the illusion of sun and sky and drifting clouds to bring with him to the next trial, new images his psyche could hold onto when Lucifer came at him again. The devil had broken his body, over and over and over, yet he hadn't yet stripped Sam of his mind.

A guttural exhalation washed across the still air.

Instantly alert, Sam's eyes flew open. The peace Michael won for him must be at an end and Lucifer was eager to play with him again. What would it be this time? Another round of cat and mouse with the Hoards? At least Adam wasn't here to endure it. Sam's hands curled in the grass, pleading to the very air that Michael would keep his promise to protect Adam.

Another exhalation rippled, closer this time.

Sam lifted his head and an instant fear clutched at his heart, a brutal painful squeeze. So it was to be Hellhounds again. They padded through the long grass, circling him like a pack of silent wolves. At least twenty of them, which was overkill even for Satan since it would only take one of the beasts to bring Sam down.

Slowly, Sam pulled to his feet. If he was going to be mauled, at least let him start out standing. It took everything in him not to run, to just let them come, but in the wide meadow there was nowhere to run to. Besides, maybe it would be quicker this way, just let this part end before he found himself placed on the rack once more.

The hounds drew closer, small red eyes glowing even in sunlight. Tears wet Sam's face. Long shudders ran through him.

A Hellhound drew close. As tall as Sam, its muzzle pressed against Sam's cheek. The nostrils flared and a cloudy puff of steam washed over him. Sam shook so bad he thought his legs would give out. He clenched his fists, waiting for the first claw to split through him, for several teeth to bear down and tear him apart between them.

The others moved closer, standing inches away, hemming him in within a tight circle. Shaking, Sam held his breath.

And nothing happened.

Unnerved, Sam looked from muzzle to muzzle. Glittering eyes bored into him. Their breathing was a loud raspy symphony.

"Just do it already!" he screamed, knowing Lucifer watched. The hounds flinched back. Sam's heart hammered like it was going to skid out between his ribcage. His inhalations were so shallow he thought he wouldn't have the strength to pull in the next breath. Unconsciously he took a step back . . .

. . . and felt a wet muzzle push against his back, forcing him a step forward. Then another step. After three steps, the Hellhounds in front of him shifted out of his way. Sam took a step to the side and they all stopped, growls resonating low in their massive chests.

Sam sidestepped back and they quieted. He took a hesitant step forward and they moved with him. A few of them turned to walk forward, flanking him, stopping to look back when he didn't move. Sam swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. The Hellhounds were herding him.

But to where?

Satan had concocted an entirely new game to put him through and Sam didn't understand the rules.

He felt a wet nudge on his back again. Tears drifted off his chin, splashing round drops of moisture that soaked into his shirt. Resolved, giving Lucifer the finger with every cell of his body, Sam straightened and walked forward.

They crossed the meadow, a lone man surrounded by giant muscle-wreathed dogs until Sam plowed into a wall, a barrier he could not see, the boundary of the Cage. Sam had run into it before. Tingles radiated across him, filling every pore. The Hellhound behind him crowded against his back, pushing him forward. Sam's face and chest squashed against the barrier, tingling uncomfortably.

Growling, several of the hounds moved forward and where they entered, the wall around them shifted, melted away. Tightly beyond the outlines of their angular bodies, Sam could see glimpses of dark sharp-hewn rock. "Oh my God," Sam gasped as the Hellhound behind grew impatient and propelled Sam up against the back of the hound just passing through the wall. Sandwiched between them, Sam fell through. A rush of prickles streamed around him, raising goose-flesh across his arms. His hair lifted as though caught in an electrical charge.

And then he was through, sitting on his butt within a dark glowing cavern, staring back at a shimmering luminous square no bigger than most of the hotel rooms he and Dean used to stay in. That was the Cage? He could see right through it, saw Michael pacing while Lucifer and Adam sat in the air, the air they felt as gold wingback chairs, while they played a game of chess on a chessboard that Sam couldn't see.

Sam scrambled to his feet, moving around the Hellhounds, and pressed against the wall, trying to get back in. "Adam! Adam!" His fingers clawed into the vaporous iridescence, trailing wisps of light.

Lucifer spun, dark cloaks swirling. Head thrown forward he strode to the wall like a charging bull. Michael's head snapped up at the sudden move of his brother, his gaze roaming to Sam. Both archangels came to the wall, staring at Sam, while Adam continued to play chess, oblivious to what transpired around him.

On opposite sides of the glowing barrier, Sam screamed for Lucifer. "Let me back in!" Adam was still in there. "Let me back in!"

The devil snarled, mouth moving in fury, in hatred, while Michael watched calmly, his hands folded neatly together. A soft smile tugged perfect lips upward.

The Hellhounds snarled, low and menacingly. Sam wrenched his gaze away from the angels to see what was happening now. Demons. Some in human form, black eyes glittering in the hell-light. Others in roiling coalescing smoke. While others still, wore forms of monsters, barely human, half-eaten flesh and oozing pustules. They walked toward Sam with varying degrees of surprise and menace from where they'd been watching what happened inside the Cage like it was Super Bowl weekend. God, the demons could see everything inside there, had watched Sam and Adam being tortured like it was an all-day matinee.

But Sam wasn't inside the Cage anymore. He was in the vastness of Hell now, exposed and vulnerable to any of these demons. He honestly didn't know which was worse. There were so many of them and Satan's tortures had at least become somewhat predicable.

"Little Sammy Winchester." A petite woman started forward. "In the flesh." She smiled prettily, her onyx eyes roaming over him.

Immediately the Hellhounds spun toward the encroaching demons, menacing growls resounding along the cavern walls. They moved forward, huge bodies bumping past Sam. The demons edged back, wary. While the hounds walked toward the demons, Sam eased back, out of their circle. He glanced at the Cage, at Adam, unaware that Sam was no longer inside with him anymore. Lucifer's dark eyes followed his movement.

"Let me back in," Sam pled.

As one, the Hellhounds' heads swiveled around to look at him. Lips pulled back in angry snarls. Sam froze. This was it. They were finally turning on him now and without Lucifer or Michael out of the Cage to heal him, what would happen to him? Would the demons restore him to just start over on him? He retained his body, so could he even die here? And then what?

He edged back against the tingly barrier and the hounds howled. Sam's brows squished together. It was the Cage? The Hellhounds didn't want him anywhere near the Cage? Testing the theory, Sam took a step forward. The pack quieted. Sam swallowed past the dryness in his mouth. He didn't know what to do.

"Come here, Sam," the woman called over the hounds. "We'll take care of you." Several of the demons grinned at that. "Don't worry. If you come on your own, the Hellhounds won't stop you."

What the hell did she mean by that?

The woman rolled her eyes. "Quit pansying around. He's ours now." She cocked her gaze back toward the demons in smoke form. "Just go get him."

With that the black smoke surged upward, spiraling over the dogs toward Sam. Sam flung his arm up in a lame attempt to protect himself, but the Hellhounds were already next to him. Canine teeth clamped upon his shoulder, spinning him, while another mouth curled over his other arm.

Sam screamed, more from the shock of it than actual pain. Then screamed again as he was dragged backwards off his feet and was flying through the cavern tight between two Hellhounds, paws pounding across the ground.

They fled through Hell, Sam carried along with the pack of speeding, coiling muscle. After the first shock, Sam realized the teeth hadn't broken through skin, were only holding him securely. They clamored past gutted rock and pools of steaming fire, around ropes and chains and hooks embedded in people's limbs and torsos, faster and faster, gaining speed until it all became a dizzying blur. Instead of the tormenting scenery rushing by, Sam stared at the Hellhounds, huge fleshy shoulders moving up and down, bouncing as they ran until in a burst of renewed speed, their hind quarters shimmered, curling into sparkling smoke that trailed behind them in ribbons. Heavy exhalations grated loud around Sam. Air rushed against his back. His body wasn't made for such speed. His head fell forward, his legs swayed behind the beasts. His stomach roiled, the contents ready to erupt.

Then all at once they slammed into something solid, yet continued on through it. Sam screamed against the onslaught. Everything went dark. It felt as though they were passing through rock, crushing in on them. His hands curled into glossy muscle, scrabbling for a hold against the punishing stone. He tried to wrench his arms free, escape, get out of the rock pooling around him, but the pack plowed through, dragging him with them until suddenly they were through. Sam didn't know how he knew, just that the pressure was gone. Everything was gone.

His arms were free. Water poured over him. On his knees, he curled over himself, the top of his head pressed into mud, the scent of wet grass strong in his nostrils. Everything hurt. Breathing rapidly, Sam blinked open his eyes, found wet muddy ground beneath him, small puddles churned by plops of falling rain. Cautiously Sam looked to the side, searching for the Hellhounds, but they were nowhere in sight.

There wasn't much in sight. Just the back of a brick building, rain-glistened garbage cans. He was in a field behind some kind of barred up business, completely alone.

Another illusion? Yet it didn't feel like an illusion. Sam started shaking, afraid to believe, afraid to even imagine what the Hellhounds could have done, yet the barrier of the Cage and then passing through rock . . . Itcouldn'tbecouldn'tbecouldn'tbe. Keeling forward into the mud, Sam wept.

TBC