Chapter 4

Even after his fight and the second fight had ended, I still remember sitting awe struck, staring at him. I hadn't expected such power from him, I thought he was just some regular angel, and from what I'd heard at the time archangels were much stronger. Aside from Anna, who never stood a chance against the others, I'd only seen archangels in action. I couldn't have prepared myself for the fights I was watching. I hadn't been present for the big speech at the beginning so I'd missed the part where they decided what kind of battles they'd be fighting. I didn't know it at the time, but I was told later on that he had suggested there be no rules holding them back. He had said he intended to end this once and for all.

Even now I don't understand what he was thinking, it was just reckless. Though I won't lie, the fact that he was doing it all for me blinded me from how stupid the whole thing was. No rules meant they could kill one another; he had planned on removing anyone who had even considered claiming me as their own. It was a sweet gesture, though it also meant he was in danger of being killed as well, I never doubted that Michael would attempt to take advantage of the whole scenario. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves the entire tournament, I could hardly sit still with my anxiety levels reaching new heights. I couldn't stand just sitting there watching my future being decided, I couldn't help but worry about who would win the battles. I wish I could say I trusted him fully, never faltering. It isn't true, though. I was already prepared to spend the rest of my life with Michael; part of me was considering Adam's way out...

Azazel and Meg were up next and the demon crowd that had gathered was on the edge of their seats. A father daughter grudge match to claim the same mate. It was odd, both of them wanting to keep Dean for themselves. Though as they approached one another, the goal of the fight slowly started to change; their motives shifting from greed to pride. Meg had lived under her father's orders like a good soldier, though lately she'd grown tired of his constant preaching. He continued to claim that Lucifer's own blood would be walking among them soon, something he believed would be on par with the devil himself in strength.

She never took anything to heart anymore, not after he used to gloat that their god, Satan, would free them from this torment. He never came and she'd lost hope that he ever would. Now apparently someone with his blood would be showing up? That didn't help, especially if he was locked inside this place as well. As far as she was concerned, this fight would free her from Azazel's domineering hand. She'd never had the opportunity to fight him in a 'no rules' kind of setting, she looked forward to the end of the fight.

Azazel, on the other hand, intended to teach his impudent daughter a lesson. She stopped believing, she stopped listening to him, she started to rebel. In his lifetime, the only way to train your child to obey was to beat them senseless. Fear and pain were the best tools, he found. "Ready?" he asked, practically hissing at her.

She grinned and shifted her weight appropriately, "More than you know."

The arena was silent at first, though as soon as Meg burst forward and the first moves were made no one knew what to say, they could only hold their breath in anticipation. Both creatures in the ring were strong, with the flick of a wrist they could throw a human into a wall if they wanted to. Azazel was a known super-power among the demons, along with all the other demons that entered this tournament. Meg had made a name for herself as one of the most ruthless and cruel, though no one had really watched her fight much. She had a hell of a tongue and a clever mind. Combining that with the knowledge she had on her father, she was more than prepared for this fight.

In a moment where their arms were locked and they were face to face, she stared into those yellow eyes and remembered most of her childhood in a flash. This was her father she was planning on killing in cold blood, a man who took care of her, fed her, clothed her... Then she remembered that he'd only done those things once, for about a day, after that she was on her own. After that she would fend for herself, all he'd do was lecture her and preach at her.

The brief moment their eyes met, Azazel could tell who had the upper hand and what the next move would be; he could see it clearly and knew there was nothing he could do about it. A wave of pride came over him as he watched his little girl go for the kill, he'd trained her well.

Azazel's severed head hit the floor, after a moment's delay the rest of his body followed. Meg stood alone in the ring now, glaring down at the corpse her father left. She said nothing as she exited the arena, off to the changing area to clean the blood off her face.

Cas looked up to Dean's perch, the demon could feel the angel's confidence easily from that distance. The fight hadn't made Cas nervous, though the same couldn't be said for Dean. Meg was fast, a lot stronger than he'd given her credit for. No one had really seen her fight much, this was the first major battle they'd seen her in, and it hadn't taken that long at all. Dean leaned back in his seat and rubbed his face with both hands, his nerves were on fire and he felt more restless the longer he watched.

It took a minute for someone to clear the body out of the ring, but once it was gone Crowley and Alastair stepped forward. Both were old school demons, both had a different connection to their home world and this one. Alastair tortured for a living, Crowley made deals. Most people that were betting on the fights put their money on Alastair to win, he had more experience with getting down and dirty, and with different tools. The ones who put their money on Crowley knew him well enough to see past the basic arena setting.

"I'll let you back out," Alastair teased in that incredibly annoying voice, "If you're too scared to face me."

"No, not scared at all." Crowley gave a confident and charming smile, casually swirling a glass of wine in his palm. "Actually I'm more relaxed now than before,"

Alastair's eyes narrowed slightly, though he wasn't one to fall for stupid tricks like that. Both demons had a tendency to play along with their 'toy's' little jokes and bluffs, "Oh, well that's good to hear." He said simply, trying to avoid curiosity and letting Crowley know he itching to find out what had calmed him down.

Crowley stood in silence, his face practically beaming, his smile not vanishing. "Aren't you curious?" he asked playfully, lifting his glass in Alastair's direction.

The torture master shrugged, "Sure, enlighten me. Why are you so relieved?"

"The timing." Crowley said plainly, taking a sip of his wine. "Ah, good stuff."

Alastair frowned, "The timing of what?"

"Of our match, of course. Do you remember before the tournament started today? They gave us each a 'last supper' kind of deal; we get whatever meal we wish, like death row inmates or something." His teeth poked through his smile as he clearly enjoyed the part of the story he was getting to, "See, it seems that no one remembers that we decided on a 'no rules' tournament, meaning that once it started anything was allowed."

"Get to the point; I'm getting excited about the idea of ripping your head off." Alastair said impatiently, starting to feel a little weak in the knees. If he was getting sick he'd prefer to end the match before whatever it was hit him.

"See, point is, the tourney started when they took our orders for those last meals." He casually stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a vile, "Poison, my friend. A demonic poison specially made by our lovely bio-genetic scientists. I thought the other fights would take longer and you'd be forced to forfeit due to death and I'd win be default. I put this in all of the demons' meals, Azazel died before his started to sink in, I suspect Meg is having difficulties in the change room as we speak. And you?" He let out a very 'business man' kind of chuckle, "Well you're dying right now."

Alastair's eyes widened as he felt his insides burning, "Where's the cure?" he spat out, rage increasing his blood flow and pressure.

"Now now, calm down. You're only making it work faster." Crowley smirked as he watched Alastair's paling body hit its knees. "Once it starts up it's almost impossible to stop, it moves much too quickly."

Alastair's painful death was slow, agonizingly so. Cas didn't looked fazed by the scene in front of him, he knew full well that Crowley couldn't have gotten something like that for himself and Michael, it'd just be stupid to try. For one, Cas didn't eat so it wasn't a concern for him. And secondly the scientists didn't have enough on angels to be able to make a poison to kill them, not yet anyway.

Crowley drifted out of the arena, people couldn't help but applaud him for his use of the 'no rules' rule. The others should have seen it coming, Crowley was a crafty fellow and as their opponent they should have looked into that further. Cas, for one, audibly clapped his hands for the performance. It was well played on the demon's part, that was undeniable.

Dean shook his head, that was just a dirty trick. How could they let something like that really happen? What if something like that happened to Cas? Just killed off by some stupid trick? That wasn't fair, to have Cas taken from him like that... he wouldn't be able to stand it.

Cas was up next again, this time it was against Raphael, a fellow angel, an archangel. Cas and Raphael both seemed to appear in the arena at the same time, like teleportation though everyone knew better than that. The angels stared at one another, Raphael cracked his neck on both sides with ease, prepping his body for the fight they were about to have. "You don't stand a chance, Castiel." He said boldly, his ego inflating to the point it was almost visible.

Cas rolled his eyes and removed the trench coat he'd been wearing. "Are we going to do this or are you going to pretend you've won for a while?" He tossed the coat and his tie off to the side, out of their fighting range. He didn't want to give Raphael anything to latch on to, though he wasn't terribly worried.

Michael started to pay attention from his seat, the earlier fights didn't really interest him because he knew he'd beat the others no problem. However he considered Raphael to be more of a threat and intended to see how he would handle this upstart. Michael would have preferred to take Castiel down himself, though watching someone else humiliate the new comer before being able to reach Michael was good enough.

Castiel slowly started to walk toward Raphael, each footstep was planned, each breath was taken into account. The archangel's eyes were locked into the blue beauties that stared back; he refused to back down to Castiel's advances until the new angel was standing almost nose to nose with him. A glint in Cas' eyes caused a hitch in Raphael's breathing. He saw something behind those eyes that he hadn't seen in years.

Cas' beautiful smile slowly crossed his features, "So you can see it, then you already know the outcome of our fight."

Raphael growled at Castiel's insolence, "You think you have His approval? That He is behind your actions? Don't be so arrogant!" Raphael's fist swung in at invisible speeds for a normal eye to see, though it was interrupted by Castiel's forearm.

"Maybe He is, maybe He isn't. Regardless, I'm still fresh out of heaven." Cas' rough voice lowered to a hushed whisper as he leaned up to Raphael's stunned ear, "And you and the others have been cut off from your power supply for far too long. This is no contest."

Raphael's eyes widened suddenly before he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Castiel was wielding and angel blade and had it embedded deep in the archangel's ribcage. "I hope you regret ever targeting Dean, you sorry excuse for an archangel." The words scraping out of throat were the last things that Raphael heard as he lost himself in a flash of light, the imprint of his wings evident in the dirt below Castiel's feet.

His blue eyes shifted to Michael's undeniably shocked expression, his full lips mouthing the words 'you're next' as he started back for his seat.