This is a long one! So get ready for some action! Almost done with season 1!

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Disclaimer: I only own Lucy!

~o~
Chapter 9
The Demons Attack

Inside, the house was silent, dark and still. Dean managed to break in without a problem and though admittedly we were fantastic at our jobs—I just figured it wasn't going to be as easy. Tiptoeing through the house, I realized I spoke way too soon.

"Get out of my house!" the husband shouted and swung a bat at my oldest brother to which Dean barely dodged. A lamp positioned on a table flew across the room and shattered at the force. The man tried again, but this time Dean caught the bat in motion and used it to overpower the man and shove him against the nearest wall.

"Please, Mr. Holden, please," Sam pleaded rationally in attempt to calm the frantic man.

"You and your family are in danger," I warned as soothingly as possible.

"Be quiet and listen," Dean commanded the still struggling man. "We are trying to help you." None of our attempts worked, and when the man heard his wife calling for him, he was quick to caution her out of fright.

"Monica, get the baby!"

"Don't go into the nursery!" Sam yelled in alarm. With a swiftly exchanged glance, I bolted up the stairs with Sam speedily trailing close behind, leaving Dean to deal with the panicked husband. I didn't even stop to think. I reached the nursery before Sam, grabbing Monica just as she began to ascend against the wall.

"Rosie!" Monica cried, struggling against my sturdy grip around her waist. Luckily, I was strong enough to hold her back. When Sam came into my view, I finally took the opportunity to steal a look up into the nursery. And for the first time in my 20 years, I looked upon the demon that killed my mother.

Monica almost broke away from my clutch on her considering I nearly dropped my arms from her in shock. Time seemed to come to a halt as I stared the dark figure down. My heartbeat pumped throughout my entire body and goosebumps formed down my arms as the room shifted icy and sinister. The demon twisted and his eyes came into the light. They were…petrifying. Blazing, malevolent, yellow eyes. And as I locked my own emerald eyes on it, something around me altered abruptly.

I unexpectedly felt shielded and…and powerful. Warmth emanated from me. The demon stared at me in…was that repulsion? It began to progress towards Sam and I in a fluid motion, snapping Sam from a trance he appeared to be under. My brother rose the Colt, aimed it at the demon and shot. And apparently, wasted one of the bullets.

The demon disappeared in smoke. Monica screamed as an aftermath of the gun shot. She resumed her struggling against me, still calling out for her daughter. "Where the hell did it go?" Sam shouted, doing a 360 around the room. I breathed heavily, still in shock…and still absorbing the power I felt surrounding me.

"Sam!" I gasped. His gaze fell on me and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Lucy…?" he questioned uncertainly, sparking my curiosity. I scrunched my eyebrows together, shaking my head.

"What?" I asked breathlessly. Sam could only stare. What the hell could he be looking at?

Dean burst into the room, not even bothering to spare a glance in our direction. As Monica cried for her baby once more, Dean shoved past us and yelled, "Go! I got her! Take Monica and go!" Choosing to ignore Sam's perplexed gape fixed upon me, I grabbed Monica's arm and pulled her down the stairs. I heard my brothers trailing closely behind along with the wailing baby Dean was carrying.

A deafening shatter blared from the second floor and immediately smoke filled every inch of the house. But despite the huge explosion, I didn't sense any form of heat...that was odd. I refrained from sparing a glance back and instead focused on shoving Monica out of her destroyed home. Stumbling outside, I noticed my brothers and Monica were all coughing as a result of the smoke. I…wasn't. Again, odd.

"You get away from my family!" the husband screamed, approaching us furiously. Monica intervened, shaking her head and placing a hand on her husband's arm.

"No, Charlie, don't!" she cried. "They saved us!" Taking that as his cue, Dean moved towards the couple and softly handed the bundle he was holding to her mother. Monica seized her baby with a wave of relief. The family huddled together appreciatively and Monica gratefully thanked Dean. When they turned away from us, I placed a hand on his arm reliantly. He hissed and retracted his arm immediately.

"Shit, Lucy, you're burning—"Dean froze mid-sentence as his eyes fell on me, "—up." My eyes darted between my two brothers, who were now in the process of gawking at me, dumbfounded. Complete and utter terror bubbled up in my stomach, and I felt my anxiety reach its ultimate level. "What the hell?"

"What?" I hissed nervously through clenched teeth. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

With wide eyes, Sam replied, "Lucy…you're glowing."

"What?" I practically sobbed. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"It started in the nursery," Sam confided, attempting to remain calm for my sake. "Just…look." He gestured to my arm. Finally, I peered down…and my eyes widened in astonishment. From my skin radiated a brilliant, white luminosity. It surrounded me from head to toe and emitted the heat from my body. I could only stare at myself in stunned silence, barely able to form a thought.

Suddenly, Monica screeched. My brothers and I all twisted around to find her staring up at the second story window of the nursery. We followed her gaze, peering up into the flames. And there it was again. Through the flames, my brothers and I laid our eyes upon the black figure of the demon once more. The force around me grew additionally potent. I was unsure of whether to feel frightened or secure. I settled on frightened.

"It's still in there," Sam stated with a snarl, and lunged for the house. Dean reacted rapidly and yanked him back by the arms before he could do something stupid. I kept my eyes on the dark figure, unable to bring myself to budge. I was immobile out of distress.

"Sam, no!" Dean cried, gripping him firmly and managing to contain him regardless of his struggling.

"Dean, let go! It's still in there!"

"It's burning to the ground—it's suicide!"

"I don't care!"

"Yeah well we do!"

My eyes were still fixated on the demon with the flames whipping around it. It lingered until my brothers bore their own eyes simultaneously upon it. And then it vanished once more. The effect on me was immediate.

A cold breeze washed away the heat that had once surrounded me. In the midst of the cool air came the heat of the flames from above—they were much unlike the pleasant warmth I had previously felt. The smell of smoke filled my nose and I was forced to wheeze my way through the initial discomfort of it. The power surge I had experienced was whisked away instantly—the difference was overwhelming and I practically collapsed to the ground.

Dean grabbed me and kept me steady as he held me against him. "Lucy!" he called. His voice was blurred—almost like a dream. "Lucy! You okay?"

His voice was clearer now. My surroundings came back into focus. Shakily I nodded. "I'm fine," I lied in a hushed, rickety voice. "I'm fine."

Seizing my waist with one hand and a reluctant Sam's arm with the other, Dean pulled us both along to the Impala. "Come on, let's go."

~o~

I stared at nothing. My brothers and I were back in our hotel room and I was seated criss-crossed on one of the wooden chairs. And while Dean paced the room, making an effort to get Dad on the phone, and Sam glared at the wall from his seat on the bed, I just stared.

I tried to ignore the spark of fear caused by Dean's failed attempt to reach Dad. My pessimistic mind would have nagged me into believing my father was dead if I hadn't disregarded the failed phone call. Instead, I ignored both of my brothers as I tried to make sense of what happened back at that house. Images flicked through my mind like TV channels. The Holden family. The black figure of the demon. The disgusting yellow eyes. The blazing flames. And finally the glow of my skin. What the hell happened?

What was happening to me? Was I even human?

I was harshly snapped back to reality when Sam heatedly smashed Dean against the wall of the hotel, gripping him by the collar of his jacket. "Don't you say that! Not after all of this!" he bellowed with a furious scowl on his face. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, my anxiety boiled to the surface along with a heaping wave a fury. I shot to my feet and swiftly moved to my belligerent brothers.

"Hey!" I shouted irately, grabbing a handful of Sam's sleeve and ripping him away from Dean. With a snarl, I continued, "What the hell is wrong with you two?! Are you seriously fighting right now?! We're finally facing this demon for the first time in 20 years, and you're gonna sit here and fight about it? No. Hell no. And with Dad missing—again—we don't even know if he's dead or alive and I…I see this demon and I turn into the human torch? If I even am human, that is…"

I trailed off from my frantic rambling as emotion overcame my voice. Frenzied tears rolled down my cheeks as I hissed out my next words. "What's happening to me? What—the hell—is happening to me?" I let out a pathetic sob I was hoping I could have kept in. "With what's happening to me, and if Dad's still alive, I…I can't take this anymore."

Sam took a long stride towards me and pulled me into a deep embrace. I wrapped my arms around his bulky torso and buried my face in his chest. He was about a foot taller than me, so he was able to rest his chin on the top of my head. I felt Dean rest a soothing hand on my back, and I turned my head to face him, still resting my head on my other brother's chest. With one glance, I could determine that my oldest brother was holding back tears of his own.

With a hand on my back, and a hand on Sam's arm, he spoke gently, "Lucy, Sam, look…the four of us—that's all we have. And it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, guys. Without you two and dad…"

Sam let out a breathy chuckle and released me, rubbing his forehead. I leaned against Dean wearily. "Dad," Sam sighed. He turned back to Dean and me with red, tearful eyes. "He should have called by now. Try him again." Dean consciously obeyed and raised the phone in his hands. He dialed the number and raised the phone to his ear.

For a split second, I was positive Dad's line had gone to voicemail. But Dean's expression was different. He slowly looked up at Sam and me with eyes bursting of terror. "Where is he?" Dean quavered, speaking the words I had dreaded to hear. A fresh stream of tears flooded my eyes and fell down my face.

"Damn it!" I growled, and restrained myself from punching something…anything.

My brother didn't speak another word to the demon on the other end of the line and I watched as he shut the phone with a trembling hand. "They've got Dad," he informed us. I detected a hint of fright in his voice, but knowing Dean, he was trying incredibly hard not to let it show.

"Meg?" Sam asked and Dean nodded his confirmation. Sam scowled and continued, "What did she say?"

"I just told you, Sammy," Dean retorted and brought hand up to his face to keep himself steady for Sam and me. He let out a shaky breath and grabbed the Colt from the bedside table, stuffing it into the back of his jeans. He next moved over to his duffel bag, yanking the zipper closed.

"We leaving?" I questioned, strolling over to my own bag and grasping the strap, preparing myself to depart. I pulled my grey scarf over my head, positioning it into the perfect spot over my striped shirt and slid my discarded jean jacket over my shoulders once more.

"Yeah, we're leaving," Dean answered, slipping his jacket over his shirt. Sam, however, made no effort to get ready and alternatively darted his eyes between the two of us.

"Why?" Sam questioned. Dean sighed, frustrated.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It's got Dad – it's probably coming for us next."

"Good," Sam retorted argumentatively, "we've still got three bullets left! Let it come!"

I whirled on my brother. "Are you kidding me?" I screeched. "We can't take on that thing! Not now!"

"Why not?!" Sam exclaimed, raising his hands. I wanted to slap him. Dean rose to his full height and got directly in front of Sam.

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready. We don't know how many of them are out there. We're no good to anybody dead," Dean barked at the belligerent middle sibling. I heaved my duffel bag onto my shoulder, staring Sam down, trusting that he might get it through his thick head. Sam remained silent and reluctantly followed Dean and I out the door when he ordered:

"We're leaving—now!"

~o~

Dean put the Impala to its full use. He slammed on breaks and the gas pedal here and there, speeding on every highway. Tires screeched as he twisted and curved down the fortunately empty streets. Lucky for us, the night seemed to be void of cops or we would have most certainly have been stopped to receive a ticket. Not like we paid any of those anyway.

"I'm telling you, guys, we could have taken him," Sam grumbled grudgingly. I rolled my eyes.

"No, we couldn't have!" I denied irritably. Sam's jaw clenched.

"God, would you stop being so fucking negative all the time!" he snapped with a glower. I put on a pseudo pleasant expression and turned to him.

"Jee, I'm sorry Sam. Of course we could have wasted this hardass demon by ourselves that even Dad hasn't been able to track! And while we're at it, we're gonna save Dad and the four of us will live happily ever after and never fight again!" I jeered sardonically, in a mocking cheerful tone.

"Alright, enough!" Dean interjected sharply, cutting off Sam before he could retort. "Look, what we need is a plan. Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we just gotta figure out where. They're gonna wanna trade him for the gun." Sam shook his head. "What?"

Sam sighed and replied, "If that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade? Dad—he might be—"

"Don't!" Dean reprimanded.

"Yeah, I'm the negative one," I commented, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You said it too, Lucy!" Sam reminded. Yeah. He's right. I did. But that didn't mean I wanted to believe it. Addressing Dean, he reasoned, "Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job!"

"Screw the job, Sam!" Dean shouted. I placed both hands on my temples and massaged, trying desperately to rub the stress away.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want!" Sam reckoned. "He would want us to keep going, don't you guys see that!"

"Would you quit talking about him like he's dead already? That goes for you too, Lucy," Dean quarreled, his frustration with our brother boiling over. "Listen to me. Everything stops until we get him back. You understand me? Everything."

I sunk down deeper into my seat in the front, in between my brothers. I honestly was just...I was tremendously stressed out. And drained. I wanted…No. I needed this to be over. I needed everything and everyone to be okay.

"So, how do we find him?" Sam asked calmly after a trivial hush between us three siblings. Dean was apparently already thinking this over, being that he replied instantly.

"We go to Lincoln; start at the warehouse where he was taken."

But Sam shook his head, rejecting, "Come on, Dean, you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

He had a point. I just sat and listened to my brothers, far too weary to make a comment. "You're right. We need help."

~o~

We sought the best help we could possibly get. I smiled as Dean pulled the Impala into an old, trashy junkyard in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. This place was so familiar to me—almost like a childhood home you could say! I was undoubtedly the most enthusiastic out of my brothers when we arrived at the Singer Salvage Yard. I hopped out of the Impala and had to desist from running to the door.

I rapped on the wooden door when I reached the entrance, smirking when I heard grumbling coming from the other side. "Yeah?" replied a deep voice, now closer to the door.

"Bobby?" I addressed. After a moment's pause, the door swung open, revealing a tall, scruffy, older man I came to know as my Uncle Bobby.

"Ah, shit," he complained good-naturedly upon seeing us three siblings. "Winchesters."

I grinned. "Don't act like you're not happy to see us."

"Yeah, well, happy's one word," he retorted and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Come on in, Lucy…boys," he ushered, opening the door wider for the three of us to enter. Inside was left just as I remembered it. Numerous books were stacked in various places among the house. Papers and other clutter were scattered on the walls and tables in disarray.

The books sparked Sam's interest almost instantaneously and he took a seat at the desk, propping one open. I pulled out a chair opposite of him and sat, taking in my environment. The last time I had been here was approximately a year and a half ago when I was 18. It really hadn't changed much since then. I barely listened as Dean briefly explained to Bobby what was going on with us and our Dad.

Bobby pulled out two round silver flasks, both embroidered with crosses on the side. He selected one of them and handed it to my oldest brother, who examined it and looked back at Bobby questionably. "What is this – holy water?" he asked curiously.

"That one is," Bobby replied and then took a swig from the flask in his hand, and handed it over to Dean. "This one's whiskey." I chuckled. Dean gulped down a portion of the whiskey and returned it to Bobby. Bobby started to hand it to me, but then pulled it back. "You twenty-one yet?"

I shrugged. "Twenty. Well…twenty in two days."

Bobby shrugged and handed it to me anyway. "Close enough." I smirked and took a drink from the flask, flinching at the burning taste.

Handing it back, I said, "Hey, thanks for this Bobby. All of it."

Dean nodded in accord. "Yeah, thanks. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if we should've come."

"Nonsense. Your daddy needs help," Bobby insisted. I almost laughed at the irony at that statement.

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything," Dean reminded. My brother and I shared a look and sniggered at the memory. Bobby shrugged again, ignoring the two of us.

"Yeah, well what can I say? John just has that effect on people," he mused. I snorted. "None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back." I smiled once more at the man affectionately. Bobby was kinda like our babysitter growing up. In fact, sometimes he even acted as our dad when our real one would disappear. I knew that my brothers and I could consistently rely on him.

Sam continued to browse through the books he had discovered, picking up on a few interesting and useful hints and information within them. Ah, my brother. Always the bookworm. Bobby explained the devil's trap to us and that it was essentially effective. He also told us that he figured that something big was building up, with all the demonic possessions that had been taking place recently. There were additional demons roaming the earth.

From outside, the dog in the yard began to bark viciously and noisily. Bobby stepped to the window, peering into the yard cautiously. Just when he turned around and warned, "Something's wrong," the front door was kicked in with enough force to tear it open. A blonde, tanned woman I recognized as Meg the demon strolled in through the opening.

Stopping in front of us, she greeted in a surprisingly calm yet dangerous voice, "No more crap, okay?" Dean advanced on her, screwing off the top of his flask of holy water. Meg easily tossed him aside with a flick of her wrist, sending him crashing into piles of books in the corner of the room. Smiling, she faced me. "Hi, baby cakes! Miss me?"

Snarling, I shot back, "Yeah, sweet cheeks, I was counting down the moments." I stepped near Sam, making sure to place myself in front of Bobby to guard the older man. He was far more skilled than I, but I'm overprotective.

The demon giggled, proceeding closer to us three slowly. "Glad to hear! Now, if you'll excuse me, I just need to have a little chat with your big brother here. Hi Sam!" With a scowl, I clutched onto Sam's sleeve protectively. "I want the colt, Sam—the real colt—right now."

"We don't have it on us," Sam answered, backing me and Bobby along with him with each step Meg took towards us. "We buried it."

"Didn't I say "no more crap"?" she cried. She was unaware of her actions, but I realized what Sam was trying to do. There was a devil's trap painted on the ceiling, out of view. And we were going to lure her straight into it. "I swear – after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads. Lackluster, kids! I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

Dean stood in the doorway behind her. "Actually," he stated breathlessly. "We were counting on it." Without any further, he slowly shifted his eyes towards the ceiling and Meg's gaze followed. Directly above her head was the devil's trap. Gradually, she lowered her eyes, fixing them upon my oldest brother with surprise.

"Gotcha."

~o~

"Where's our father, Meg?"

Meg smirked mockingly up at Dean from where she was bound to a wooden chair under a devil's trap. She was unable to escape between the two factors, and we had her just where we wanted her. "You didn't ask very nice," she ridiculed.

Dean returned her smirk and retorted, "Where's our father, bitch?"

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh I forgot. You don't." I held back a violent comment that wanted to escape me, and let my oldest brother handle the interrogating.

"You think this is a freaking game?!" he roared heatedly and got impossibly close to the demon. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

Meg lowered her voice to a treacherous whisper, "He died screaming. I killed him myself." I saw Dean quivering in anger and I reacted swiftly. Just as he raised his hand to strike her across the face, I grabbed his wrist. He turned and upon meeting my eyes, he calmed.

"Aww, thanks for that, angel face. You're too sweet," Meg chimed to me cheerfully. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore her bait.

"Angel face. That's a new one," I commented bitterly. Her grin altered slightly sinister.

"Well. It is the most accurate."

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, utterly perplexed by the bizarre comment. I chose to shrug it off and rather followed Bobby into the next room where he called my brothers and I to meet. Forming a sort of circle with my brothers and Bobby, I spared a glance back at the demon girl. Her brown eyes were…knowing. With a look I could verify that she was aware of something that I wasn't. Panting and smiling her wicked grin, she shot a wink at me. I glared and focused in on what Bobby was informing us.

Dean's voice was the first to come into my attention "Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?"

"In Meg?" I questioned. Bobby nodded to both of us. My eyes shifted back to her, meeting her cold glare.

"That's actually good news," Dean commented. "Sammy, I need you to look through Dad's journal. Try to find an exorcism ritual; we can get that bitch outta that girl and back to hell where she came from." Sam nodded once and began his task, digging through the duffel bag and pulling out Dad's journal.

I grabbed a vial of holy water and I took the chance to approach Meg, placing my hands on each arm of the chair and towering over her. The demon exhaled a short laugh. "I knew you'd come around at one point or another," she breathed and her eyes flicked black. Her tone was hushed to the point where even I had to lean down further in order to hear her.

"Enough with this bullshit, Meg," I whispered, baring my emerald orbs into her demonic onyx ones. "What do you know about me?" Her snarl lifted into a smirk and she leisurely shook her head. Her bobbed blonde hair graced my face.

"Uh uh uh," she sang tauntingly. "Don't get too eager there, angel face. Not like I could tell you anything anyway…I might get grounded." I clenched my jaw in irritation, but couldn't think of anything of the top of my head that would force her to blurt out anything. So, I shoved myself away from her impatiently, running a hand through my hair and paced.

Meg's eyes switched back to the natural dark brown. Leaning back, she scoffed at the sight of Sam and Dean, glancing at the open book in front of them. "You gonna read me a story?" she jested. Dean stopped close to her and stared down at her cruelly.

"Something like that. Hit it, Sam."

Sam began to recite the words off the pages in Dad's journal, speaking in old Latin. None of the words were familiar to me so instead of listening my brother perform the exorcism, I stared Meg down, surveying her expressions and reactions. Initially she scoffed, believing herself to be a great deal superior to a standard exorcism. But between Dean's taunts and Sam's reading, she finally started to struggle.

"I'm going to kill you," she warned dangerously after squeezing her eyes shut. Reopening them, her gaze flicked to Sam, then to me and finally to Dean. "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body." I merely glowered at her, twisting the bottle of holy water in my hands. Meg remained silent when it came to the details of where she had taken our Dad. And so Sam resumed the exorcism.

Meg illustrated obvious evidence of the pain she was in, such as the shaking that began to rack throughout her whole body, as well as her shallow panting. Sam only paused when she cried out in pain. She hissed lowly, "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons and his little daughter one last time. That's when I slit his throat."

Every muscle in my jaw clenched. "Liar," I seethed through my teeth, reaching to unscrew my bottle of holy water. Sam and I met eyes briefly and he took it as his cue to recommence his reading. Dean leveled himself to Meg, his gaze furious and perilous.

"For your sake, I hope you're lying. Cause if it's true I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God," he growled, and regained his composure.

The exorcism grew more intense and the air turned stale and cold. Wind rustled the pages of books and Meg struggled even tougher. Despite the complete agony she was in, she insisted repeatedly that she had murdered our Dad. And with a sickly dread, I was beginning to believe her words. In a horrifying twist, Meg let out a piercing shriek and the chair slid jerkily in a circle.

Finally, she had enough. She cried out, "He will be!" Dean held up a hand, pausing Sam and I took a step towards the demon with wide eyes.

"So he is alive!" I yelled, relief washing over me. "Where is he, you bitch?"

Meg shook her head wearily. "It doesn't matter. Because he will be dead after what we do to him." Dean beckoned Sam to resume the exorcism, but Meg interrupted fluidly and exhaustedly. "A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City. Missouri. I don't know where." She paused, panting. "That's it, that's all I know."

Dean, though appreciative of the new information the demon had given to us, was not impressed and didn't feel merciful. "Finish it," he ordered Sam. Observing the frantic and fatigued demon, I almost protested against my oldest brother. But I remembered there was still an innocent woman that remained in the body Meg was possessing. And we had to save her.

Sam was reluctant initially as well; convinced she had lied about her lack of knowledge and insisting that we could still use the demon for information. Bobby intervened between the three of us and said, "You're gonna kill her. You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die."

"Which would be probably a blessing to her!" I advised. "That girl is in agony right now. Letting her die would be putting her out of her misery!"

Sam and Bobby remained silent, and without any further words to be said, Dean agreed, "Sam, finish it." When Sam continued, Meg's squirming and twitching was instantaneous. It was almost sickening to watch. Her head snapped up and her eyes were once again deep pools of black.

And finally, in one ultimate toss of the head, Meg wailed. Thick, black smoke pooled from her mouth and out onto the ceiling, where it shot in different directions and disappeared. I jumped back frightfully and clasped onto the nearest person—which turned out to be Sam—in absolute astonishment. The experience was…intense, to say the least. Suddenly, it came to a halt and the girl collapsed forward against the ropes that bound her. In shock, I couldn't find myself capable to budge.

A single drop of blood trickled from her mouth.

~o~

To be continued…