Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Just wait a few more chapters, okay?
She's not gonna be in hell forever.
Chapter title borrowed from Cannibal Corpse.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
On with it, shall we?
CHAPTER FOUR- FORCE FED BROKEN GLASS
Amitiel has told me everything.
Lilith wants to free Lucifer from his cage, and bring about the apocalypse.
She seems to think I have a role to play in this.
I do not agree.
It does not stop her from teaching me how to harness my powers- she believes it is a gift.
It scares me, sometimes, knowing how much I am capable of.
That, for the first time, I want to use my powers.
But it does not matter.
I am weak.
I am helpless- what use have I ever been to anyone?
What use was I to Sam?
What help was I to Dean?
Dean.
The name helps me distance myself from the pain- if marginally.
I curse myself for my stupidity, for my selfishness.
He is here in hell too, but I have almost forgotten him, immersed in my own self-pity and hatred.
"Amitiel," I rasp. "Do you know how to contact someone in hell?"
Her eyes flash, turning almost black.
"It's easy. Link with the souls here. Speak his name in your mind. Call for him."
She knows already- there is no sense in hiding anything from Amitiel.
Not when she is the embodiment of truth.
So I do as she says.
Dean, I think, searching for him with my mind. Dean, where are you?
"Be careful!" Amitiel cautions, but it is too late.
I have opened my mind to the forces of hell.
The screaming intensifies, and their pain, coupled with my own, nearly sends me over the edge.
It is much more than I can take.
But what is worse is that I can understand them.
Hurts, one whimpers soundlessly in my head.
I'm sorry, says another.
I recognize Bela's voice among them.
I strain to look for Dean, and I hear a man screaming, set apart from all the rest, and I reach out with all my strength.
But I lose him.
If the man even was Dean in the first place.
Amitiel is surprised, but approving.
"You just need work, you're definitely strong enough."
"You'll get out of here," Jared promises.
"We'll make sure of it. I'll make sure of it."
They will not let me give up, neither of them.
Even if they have lost hope for themselves.
I want to believe them, but no one escapes hell.
No one.
But they are the only ones holding together the tattered shreds of my sanity.
We seem to have formed a fellowship- we hope for each other, even if we have none for ourselves.
I realize the irony in my thoughts as Alistair walks in again.
He's here for me- Jared and Amitiel have already had their turn.
I do not know what is worse- watching them get hurt, or knowing that they watch me when I am being tortured.
Today Alistair carries shards of broken glass.
I do not understand what he means to do as he adds extra shackles to my arms and legs.
I cannot move.
And then he forces open my mouth.
I understand only too well now.
I scream, but there is no way out.
I am strapped to the rack, arms and legs immobile.
Alistair rams the glass down my throat.
The pain is impossibly blinding.
I have no chance to shriek, because Alistair shoves more of it down, whistling cheerily as he strips away the skin inside my throat.
I can feel it ripping away at the skin, slicing and scraping along my throat.
It hurts more than the insect, the knife, or even the burning.
But the worst thing is that I cannot even scream.
My vocal chords are torn and bloodied.
It is excruciating, and I am locked in a prison of my own silent agony as Alistair continues.
Jared's hand clamps onto mine, but even he cannot help me this time.
I meet Amitiel's eyes, and her expression is grim.
The message is clear.
There is no getting out.
"You know this could all end," Alistair says lightly.
"Just say the word, and you'll be up and off this rack in no time. All you have to do is my job."
Which means torture another soul.
It is tempting, so, horribly, terrifyingly tempting, to know that the pain could end, but I hold onto Jared's hand and ignore Alistair.
"Well?" He pushes.
Since I cannot speak, I answer him the only way I know how.
I spit blood in his face.
Alistair's face contorts with rage, and I know the pain will be worse than ever.
But he cocks his head to one side, as if listening to something.
"I'll deal with you later," He says.
His eyes hold the promise of more pain as he leaves.
I cry soundless, tearless sobs.
~Supernatural~
This time it is Amitiel who has gone.
I still cannot speak, and Jared squeezes my hand gently.
Even that small motion sets off a spasm of pain.
"Sorry," Jared whispers, and his words throb with regret.
Jared's gurney touches mine, and our hands lock together regardless of the ache.
"I am so sorry," Jared murmurs. "I was supposed to protect you."
"And look at you now," Jared laughs bitterly.
It sounds more like a sob.
"Seventeen and burning in hell."
I shake my head silently.
This is not his fault.
You tried, I mouth with difficulty. I know you did. But I can't be saved.
I can feel tears pricking in my eyes again.
Jared's head moves closer to mine, and our lips briefly brush together.
We taste of heat and ashes.
We taste of misery.