-Chapter Two-

Dean could not see anything—mainly due to the fact that he was blindfolded.

He could hear voices coming from all around him, in all directions. The demon still had him in it's firm grip. Dean had thought of trying to escape, believe him he had tried, but every time he even even tried to fidget the demon would shock him something. It hurt, like being electrocuted. Dean just hoped that the shock had not made his hair stick out at all ends, that would be incredibly embarrassing, not to mention him being gagged, blindfolded and being dragged around a town of someplace.

Dean did not't know where he was. All he knew was that the ground beneath his feet was hard. The air around him was thick, cold, shivers escalated up and down his spine. He could hear drops of water coming from someplace near him, he could hear the scratching sounds of rats as they raced across the floor, some even ran over his feet to reach the other side of the room. Dean had a feeling he was a warehouse of some kind because occasionally his arms would brush against wooden crates, and cardboard boxes. Yes, a warehouse seemed like a good guess. Defiantly not a promising notion though. He would have rather been somewhere that would not't so closed in, so that once Dean made his get away he would not't have to run around trying to find an exit. It did make escaping more difficult, but then again Dean figured that was the whole point. The demons did not want him to escape, now did they?

"Here!" the demon said gruffly, throwing Dean to the ground.

Dean chocked on the cloth that gaged his mouth. His ribs hurt after being pushed onto the hard, cold cement flooring. If it was not't for the ropes that bound his hands together behind his back Dean would have rubbed his sides, nursing them, either that or given that demon a good hard punch in the face.

Dean could hear the demon bending down beside him, he could feel it's dry and cracked skin on it's hand make contact with the side of his face. The demon started to untie the pieces of cloth that kept Dean was seeing and speaking. As soon as the cloth was removed from his mouth Dean coughed, he coughed up blood. Even though his blindfold would not't removed yet he could tell that the thick liquid that was now running down his chin and onto the front of his shirt had been blood and not mucus. He could smell it. It was just like how a hairdresser knew the fried egg smell of a new done perm, and how a flouriest would know the many different aromas of numerous flowers and plants, a demon hunter knew the smell of blood. It was something Dean had become accustomed to since his early childhood.

When the blindfold was finally removed Dean could see where he was now. He had been right, it was a warehouse—of some kind anyway. It was large, it have been dark if it was not for the hundreds of tall candles that were around, dimly lighting the room with an eerie glow, Dean looked around, hundreds of crates and boxes were in each and every corner of the room, stacked on top of each other. Dean's gaze turned back to the numerous objects that surrounded him, they were interesting, dangerous even. Some of the objects were weapons, numerous collections of funky looking guns and knives. There were old books, dusty, blood stained, they each smelled strongly of decaying flesh. A sick thought occurred to Dean that the leather that bound these old books was probably made up of human flesh. Dean wanted to throw up, but he would have to restrain himself from doing so.

The sound of a soft whimpering beside him made Dean crane his neck around to get a better look. It was a girl, a young women in fact, who looked no older than eighteen. Alike Dean her hands and feet were bound by rope, but unlike Dean she still had a blindfold covering her eyes. She wore long dress that looked old, worn, like rags. They were stained by dirt and blood. Her face was covered by a long tangle of mattered bloody blond hair. She struggled to get up, her hands were bloody and so was the rest of her. She was covered in bruises and numerous painful looking cuts, some of them even looked infected. Dean suspected that she must have been in the warehouse for awhile now, and before she had been beaten to a bloody pulp, tortured even. Though despite the state she was in the only sounds she was making was that of slow whimper and soft raspy breathing. Dean felt his heart go out to her. He wanted to help her, to get her out, but at that moment he could not even help himself let alone her.

Dean looked around for more people, but there were none tied like him and the young women. There were however, demons, a lot of demons. There were chairs lined by just in front of him, all in rows, at least five rows. It reminded Dean of an auction, and then that reminded him of what those demons had said about auctioning him off for a pretty penny. That's what this was about, they were going to sell him to the highest bidder. It was a demonic auction and he was the new item up for sale.

The demons all took a seat, none of them looked horrified by the sight of having humans up for sale in fact some of them were eying Dean with great interest. Dean was sickened by the thought.

"Alright, welcome ladies and gentlemen." a voice called out to the crowed, each and every demon looked up toward the stage.

Dean could not't see the guy that had called out to the crowd, he still lying painfully on his side, he could see the man's shoes though, shiny and black. Dean had the sudden urge to take one of the sharpened knives that was displayed near him and stab it in the guy's foot. He would have taken this urge up too, it was not't for the ropes that were preventing him from doing so. Dean should have been looking at it like were good thing, really, because if he were stab the guy in the foot he would risk having to fight the fifty-something demons that were all seated in the room.

"Today ladies and gentlemen we have a wide and very rare collection, as I might add, for sale." the guy said, he was the auctioneer of this thing. "We have a wide verity of weapons, that's right, and even two humans."

There was a great deal of talk when the auctioneer demon said "humans." Many of the demon's eyes moved to Dean. They licked their lips, fixating their black eyes hungrily upon him. Dean tried not to look at them, they were seriously beginning to make him feel more uncomfortable than he already was.

"First human--" the auctioneer demon said, reaching down to pull the young women by her long dark hair. She was still blindfolded, but she clearly knew what was going on. She tried to kick at the auctioneer but he just zapped her with a gun of some kind, it electrocuted her, just like the demon that had carried Dean into the warehouse had done to Dean. "--This lovely young lady, who might I say is very charismatic. Use her as a slave, gouge her eyes out and boil them in a soup or cut her head off and mount on the wall, it does not't matter what you do. The bidding will start at three hundred."

Dean felt like he was going to throw up, again, these demons were sick. Honestly he had been hunting evil for basically his entire life now and nothing he had ever hunted had been as evil, as sickening as this was. Dean tried not to watch, tried not to listen as demons bid on the poor young women that was trying to break free from the auctioneer demon's grasp. Dean could not't stand the sight, he hated it more than anything else. This was evil. He used to get demons, in a way they were like hunters, you know they killed for their honor and blah blah blah, but this would not't honor, this was just sick.

"Seven thousand and sold!" the auctioneer demon cried, pointing toward a male demon with red eyes seated at the third row of chairs.

The young women let out a squeal of terror as the auctioneer shoved her into the red-eyed demon's arms. The red-eyed demon, clearly pleased with his purchase placed a collar and leash around the poor girl's throat. After removing the blindfold it tossed her on the ground kicking her hard in the ribs, she let out another moan of agony before being dragged like a dog across the concrete flooring.

The young women's screams faded as she was dragged by the demon carrying the leash out of the warehouse. Dean watched her, a tear escaped from one of his eyes and rolled down the side of his face. He swore to himself, made a silent promise to her that he would rescue that girl, get her out whatever hell they were both trapped in whether it be the last thing he ever did.

"Next on our list of items--" the auctioneer demon said, this time he reached for Dean by the color of his leather jacket. "--another human. This one has quite a mouth on him, be warned, but if he gives you any cheek and beating the stuffing out him won't do the trick than just stitch his mouth together, wait for the pus and blood to dry and then let it get back to work. The bidding will start at, once again, three hundred."

Dean watched, his eyes darting from here to there at the different demons that were trying to buy him. Two were fighting over him, a man and a women demon both with entirely black eyes both fighting over him. Dean looked around at the many demons that were seated, he even could have sworn that some of them were glaring at him, loathing in their eyes and not just because he was human, he had the feeling that some of the demons knew him—perhaps from past encounters with him and his younger brother Sam. Sam Winchester, Dean's younger brother came floating back into his mind, Dean did not want to think about him, it only made things worse. The fight they had had just a hours before, to think that Dean was going to be sold as a slave to some demonic son of a bitch, and to think that the last words that had come out of Dean's mouth had made his little brother's eyes fill with tears.

In the end Dean was sold to a elderly male demon with very little teeth, he reminded Dean of a stereotypical hillbilly. He even sounded like one too. Dean just hoped that this fellow had a shotgun because if Dean would have to listen to that voice while he had to clean out toilets then he may as well put the shotgun to his head and blow his brains out.

The hillbilly demon tied a piece of rope around Dean's neck, chocking him. He kicked him hard in the stomach, and then tugged on the lead.

Dean let out a hollow laugh. "If you think I'm gonna follow suite like some kind of lassie..."

The hillbilly demons narrowed his eyes on Dean then took the shock gun that the auctioneer demon was holding out. Hillbilly demon placed the shock gun on Dean's arm, electrocuting him.

Even though it hurt, stung like he had just been slapped hard in the face, Dean did not give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing it had caused him pain. He was stubborn in that way, but mostly because if there was one thing Dean knew most about demons it was that the little evil sons of bitches loved to inflict pain and torture on their victims, their black hearts longed for it. Like Dean would ever let them have that kind of enjoyment.

"--Then you got another thing..." Dean was unable to complete his protest because the hillbilly demon kept shocking him every time he even opened his mouth to get a breath of fresh air. He was forced to follow the demon, let the bastard lead him on a leash like he were some kind of animal. Dean was going to become a servant to a demon—well he very much doubted that that was something an employer saw on a resume of work experience everyday.

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