Go On And Scare Me To Death
Bobby didn't go to sleep at eleven. But luckily enough, I managed to slip off to my own room without suspicion. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't a grade A liar either. Throughout the remainder of the day Bobby asked me what was wrong. He was worried, said I looked like something was really bothering me. No, of course not. What could go wrong when working with Crowley? Apart from well…everything. This was all going so bad. Not to mention that my plan to rid of Crowley was dancing around in fire after being doused in gasoline. If he kept this up I'd never get him out of my head, especially with what my feelings were doing. I sneered at the thought. Feelings…those weren't feelings. Those were really pesky hormones. But wasn't that even worse?
I sank onto my bed, rubbing my temples. This was oh so bad. Liking a bad boy, that was one thing. Every girl went through that phase, I think. Having something you can't have. It was exciting. But this was…a demon. The same kind of being that killed Bobby's wife, screwed up the Winchesters' lives, forced my own parents into the lifestyle of hunting and were downright dicks all around. And above all, he was in charge of Hell, now. Liking a bad boy was one thing…but liking Crowley was in an entirely different galaxy of things. And I knew it wasn't going to go away. Not anytime soon, and definitely not with what he was doing. Winding me so easily around his finger. I touched my cheek where he had kissed me earlier today. Yes…he knew exactly what he was doing and he didn't care. And I wasn't complaining.
Glancing at my bedside table I saw the note. Still folded neatly, my name written in black curly letters. If I couldn't even bring myself to throw that out, how was I supposed to get him out of my mind? Well, it isn't as if you actually want to, I told myself. And I was right. I didn't want to get him out of my mind. Despite me hating the fact that it was him I was taking such a liking to, I liked liking him. I liked his comments, and advances, and winks. Who wouldn't? He was a Hell of a guy to get attention from. Especially when it was the sort where he wasn't personally seeing to your tortures.
"Ready?" I jumped slightly, turning back to look at Crowley who now stood a few feet away. Though his coat was abandoned he still wore the fine tailored suit, clean, as it always seemed to be. I only ever saw it torn up when he was on the run from Lucifer.
"Shh…" I hushed, standing up, frowning disapprovingly. Part of me had hoped that maybe he found another way to do the job. But, like promised, he had come at exactly eleven o'clock. "Bobby's still awake." I murmured, walking up to him, arms crossed.
"Well, better not dawdle around." With a smirk he grabbed me around the waist, which was most certainly not necessary for transportation. And furthermore, he had to tug me against him, his other hand in his pocket as if this was a normal stance for us. I glared at him, which was turning out to be a regular response to just about everything that he did. But, alas, my body was having an entirely different reaction. Goosebumps running down my spine, back ever so slightly curving against him. This, apart from every moral hiccup, was in fact a very comfortable place to be. And being that close to Crowley simply spread a warm feeling from the roots of my hair to my tips of my toes.
I blinked and we were no longer in my bedroom but instead in a rather lavished hotel room. Nothing too fancy, but in all likelihood the best that money could buy in whatever town of Georgia that we were currently in. I took a moment to regain my grounding, not used to the way demons travelled. Even angels, for that matter. It was odd to find yourself in a completely different setting in the blink of an eye. "Next time we're taking the car." I muttered, wanting to step back. But Crowley kept his arm securely around my waist. Still smirking as he glanced about and nodded to the bed.
"Yes, well, time is a factor, dearie. And we don't have much of it." Adding a wink for good measure he walked me to the bed, only stepping back when my leg brushed the edge of the mattress. "Now…you don't look like you're dressed for sleep." His brow furrowed, eyes flashing mischievously.
"What, you think the Mare is going to care what I'm wearing?" I scoffed, side still warm from where he had his arm, where his fingers had pressed into the skin beneath the shirt.
"No…but I do." He lifted his hand and snapped his finger, smirk reaching his eyes that were now travelling the length of my body.
"Oh…oh this is low…" I hissed, staring down at myself with a scowl. He had changed the comfort of my jeans and tee into an overly cliché nightgown. Barely reaching mid-thigh, the front revealing, straps barely half an inch, material silky and black. Not to mention that my bra was gone and…"Am I wearing lacy underwear?" I said in a small voice, a new-found horror crossing my face.
Crowley chortled, tongue running along his lips as he slowly drew his eyes up to mine. "Would you like me to check?" a small and gurgling whine left the back of my throat which only seemed to amuse Crowley further. It was definitely uncomfortable. The nightgown, if you could call it that, was one thing. But feeling your panties change was taking it to a whole new level. Not that I should've been surprised, this was Crowley after all. But I did feel like someone was being overly invasive with me. Which he was, in all technicality.
"You so owe me for this." I finally managed. Crowley pushed me gently onto the bed and as quickly as I could, without letting anything…pop out, I got under the covers, making a show of turning my back to him. Except that the demon wouldn't have any of that and again, like in the morning, I found myself on my back, staring up at Crowley who was leaning down awfully close to me.
"You know…after all this is over we should stick around for a little while." He murmured, brushing back my hair, twining a strand around his finger as he chuckled at my reaction. My mouth gaped slightly as I stared up, breathing hitched. This was no good…no good at all. Again my heart jumped in my throat, beating like trying to make a run for it. "I'd very much like to get my tongue under that lace." Another shiver ran through my body at the image that ran through my mind.
I gulped, searching my mind for words. "Can we just get this over and done with?" My voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper, though luckily steady.
"All work and no play, hmm?" Crowley mused, leaning further down until his face was blurry, breath warm against my skin. "Have it your way, then." As he finished the word he pressed his lips to mine.
I let out another whine, quiet in surprise at the unneeded kiss. But it was…welcome. And suddenly my mind was clouding, eyes closing, muscles relaxing completely into the soft mattress. So inviting. For the briefest of moments I felt Crowley's teeth nip at my lip, tongue running over the spot before he pulled away, kissing his way down my cheek and to my ear. I felt drugged, like part of me was floating someplace else. That odd state between being asleep and awake. So even when he nipped at my earlobe all I could do was sigh in response. "Sweet nightmares, darling…I'll see you when you wake." He murmured before the darkness rolled completely over my mind.
The mood wasn't dark when I opened my eyes. There were no weird intestines hanging from the walls or eerie music playing the background as the ceiling dripped water from an asbestos infected ceiling. In fact, it was light. The room vaguely familiar, and I realized soon why. I was home. Well, one of my homes. In the sitting room. But it was…quiet. No clatter from the kitchen, no bickering of my parents. I moved around the rooms slowly, grinning at the memories they brought. Why was I here? There was a sudden knock on the door. Rapid and unyielding.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted, quickening my step as I neared the door. And as I flung it open I was met by an out of breath and very frantic looking Darrell. He was a good friend from school, wasn't he? Why did he look so scared? "What's wrong?" I asked slowly.
"It's…it's your parents." He panted, grabbing me by the wrist. "Come on!" then he yanked on my arm and I was running along his side. My legs pumping fast, as fast as they could carry me. I pulled out in front of him when I saw the scene in the distance. A car flipped over on its back, ambulances and police surrounding the wreckage. Group of people standing around, most having their heads turned away. And when they saw me approach I saw their eyes. Saw the sorrow, the guilt in them. Looking away from the scene as though searching for something wholesome. Something that could still give them hope.
"Move, move!" I shouted angrily, shoving past the people. Police made an attempt to hold me back but I wasn't stopping. "MOVE!"
I wish they would've held me back.
The bodies weren't right. They were crooked, angled all wrong. Bone fragments protruding from broken skin, smeared and stained with crimson. There was so much blood, on the street, on the bodies, the car. The mangled turned over car. Someone was screaming…I was screaming. I kept fighting to get to them but I couldn't move. My feet were leaded, eyes wide. Unable to look away…why wasn't I looking away? I screamed louder. I wanted my lungs to burst, to fill with blood, to drown. I didn't want to look…how much longer could I look? The figures began to move. Gurgled moans leaving their cut lips, bones grinding as they turned to look at me. Black soulless eyes, their mouths opening and closing, teeth chipped, some missing. And I couldn't look away.
No…no this wasn't right.
I never saw my parents die…I wasn't there…I was never there.
The scene shifted and suddenly I was back in my room. Gasping for air, my throat feeling hoarse, clawing at any skin I could find so I'd inflict enough pain to wake up…I had to wake up. No…no I had to sleep. There was a reason I had to sleep. When I finally stopped panting for air, my hands growing slack, I looked around my new surroundings. My room…which room? This wasn't Bobby's…this wasn't my room. It couldn't have been. The sheets on the bed were gray, worn out without the familiar pattern, the mattress not as soft as I remembered it being. Two other beds stood along the walls. What was this place? Was it the orphanage? But I wasn't in the orphanage. I went to Bobby's after my parents died. I was never here. The door slammed shut suddenly. This wasn't right. I bolted from the bed, throwing my shoulder against the wooden door but it didn't budge. So I tried again, I pounded as hard as I could with my fists and feet but no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't budge.
Suddenly I felt a chill. It formed around me, seeping through my clothing, into my skin and bones. Into my very soul, it was burning. The cold was so bad it seemed to burn and I began to shiver, something else coming over the place. Dark…frightening. This wasn't right. I had to get out of here. All I knew was that I had to get out of here. So again I started to pick up on trying to knock the door open. Again it was a futile attempt. And when I turned back I screamed. The walls…the walls were leaking blood. And I could suddenly smell it, it was all around me. When I moved I slipped, fell forward and barely caught myself with my hands. Except that I caught a reflection of myself in something wet. The substance warm, sticky. It was filling up the room. The blood was filling up the room!
I'd drown in it. As the thought dawned on me I scrambled to get up. Needed a way out…there had to be a way out. But as I breathed in the blood seemed to stick to the back of my throat, on my tongue. It made me gag, retch with disgust. Why was there so much blood? I moved along the walls, trying to look for something. Anything. The window, perhaps? It was barred. And no matter how hard I pulled the bars didn't budge. The blood was rising, it was up past my ankles now. I had to do something…I had to do something! And then another noise caught my ears. Gurgling…it wasn't mine but it was gurgling…behind me.
I didn't want to turn back. I was afraid…I couldn't breathe, it was sickening and I didn't want to hear. But I needed to…I had to make sure it was there. But why? Why did I have to turn? I did, though. I turned, and my eyes widened. Another shriek left my lips before I choked on a sob. My knees buckled and yet I couldn't look away from the sight. I fell into the blood…their blood.
They were nailed to the wall. Arms spread wide…there was Bobby, and my mom…and my dad. And they were nailed to the fucking wall. Their arms slashed, their throats slit. There were cuts on their stomach. Massive slashes as though someone had torn them to ribbons. So much so that even the intestines that hung out were torn and shredded. I could see their organs…goddamn it I could see their organs! And the blood, it was pooling from their wounds, their throats, their arms. But they were alive. They were still alive. I saw their lips move, their eyes pleading. I could see their lungs expanding beneath the broken rib cage. I could see their hearts pump. And I saw their lips move.
Help…help us…
Their voices were in my head. They were in my head so I screamed again. Covered my ears and pleaded it all to stop. But the blood was rising, and I was sitting in it, back pressed against the wall and unable to look away. The voices grew louder, climbing over each other, rising in volume, screaming and murmuring and pleading. I sobbed until I lost my voice. Until I began to hiccup on my own tears, until I could no longer breathe because all I could taste was blood. It felt like it was filling my lungs.
"Please, make it stop. Make it stop, just make it stop. Kill me and make it stop, I beg of you MAKE IT STOP!"
And it did.
I scrambled, screamed and fought against the hands trying to restrain me. I screamed until my voice felt hoarse and pushed away. Eyes open I looked around. I could still smell it, feel it…I could still taste it. And for a moment I could've sworn I still saw it dripping down the walls. So I closed my eyes but that was worse. Because behind my eyelids I saw the bodies. Behind my eyelids I saw them pleading for help. And I choked on another sob, eyes open again. There was something we on my face…it was warm and it was wet! It was the blood…it was the blood…
Suddenly everything stopped.
My head was turned and I was staring at the side of the room. Shaking madly, sweat covering my skin, damping my hair, making it stick to the back of my neck. Tears continued to stream down my cheeks and…one side of my face stung. It stung like someone had slapped me, and hard.
"Lotus, darling, you're awake." The voice…gravelly and low. I turned my head, eyes finally landing on the figure who had tried to restrain me. His suit jacket missing a button, part of the collar of his shirt upturned and tie crooked. I had been fighting him, hadn't I? I stared at him and continued to quake.
Crowley…I was on a job with Crowley. The Mare. That's why I was asleep. That's why I couldn't breathe. That's why my mind felt like it was raw and torn to near shreds. None of it was real…and yet I could still smell the faint scent of blood. And he pulled me in. The demon whose fault this was suddenly pulled me into his arms. Crushed me against his chest and rubbed my back. And I couldn't find it in me to fight back. To hit him back, punch and claw at him until he felt the same pain I just had to endure.
"Did you get it?" I managed instead, voice rough from misuse. Choppy and quiet as I fought back cries.
"Mh-hmm…one nasty Mare being transported as we speak." He murmured. And though his actions were comforting, his voice wasn't. It still held the cold, the distance only demons could accomplish. Because he didn't care…not really. But having me in his arms like he did was better than having me sob, so he'd endure it. Because it benefited him.
I didn't wrap my arms around him. I didn't even lean against him that much. But I did turn my head, just a little, to bury my nose in the collar of his shirt. And I breathed in. My stomach settled almost instantaneously, like I had just gulped in a breath of fresh air. I smelt amber and oak…and well aged scotch, the kind that he liked to drink. I could smell black tea, and tobacco…and perhaps that was all in my head. But I didn't care. Not one bit because it wasn't blood. And though I continued to shake, though my heart felt as though it'd beat up through my throat and slip off my tongue and I was ready to vomit from the images I had seen and felt an indescribable fear that I knew nothing could take away; I realized that it was a nightmare.
It had all been just a nightmare.
I never saw my parents die. I never went to an orphanage. And Bobby was alive, probably asleep on the sofa in his study because he didn't feel like walking up to his bedroom. It had been nothing more than a nightmare. Upon realizing that I pushed away, wiping frantically at my face. No one saw me cry. Not when I broke my leg or cracked ribs or even when I stood at the funeral. I simply didn't cry, it never solved anything so what was the need to make a scene? And now Crowley had. He saw me cry, and sob, and scream. I lashed out at him and he slapped me and then hugged me. Another wave of nausea hit me and a retched.
"Bathroom..." I managed. Crowley nodded to a door and I sprang from the bed, running, nearly tripping to the toilet. The next few minutes I spent throwing up, my throat burning and eyes watering. And in the nasty process, when I couldn't breathe, I was reminded of the suffocation I felt in the nightmare. The panic that came with it didn't help. When I flushed I found a glass being held out for me, filled with water for me to rinse my mouth with. I didn't thank Crowley as I took it, I didn't even look at him for that matter. And when I stood he helped me remain steady. A snap of his fingers and I was back in my old clothes. It brought little comfort, but little was better than none.
"I didn't mean for it to get so far." Crowley explained, his voice still low as though he was trying to comfort a frightened animal. "Nor did I mean to hit you. That was rude of me." I think he would've chuckled if I would've showed signs of acknowledgment to his talking. But how could I? He wasn't even apologizing. He didn't even bother faking a goddamn "sorry" for what had happened.
"Take me back," I asked meekly. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be in a room with a man I couldn't even look in the eyes…no, not a man. He was a demon. A demon who I had giggled about, kissed, gotten drunk with and bantered with. I didn't want to be near him…not tonight. Not now.
"Of course love," he replied, and took me around the waist. But he didn't pull me close to him, this time. He didn't make a sexual innuendo. I don't even think he was smirking. Another snap of his fingers and I was back in my room. My room. Things as I had left them. "Thank you for your help." Crowley said, and I felt the press of his lips against the cheek he had earlier hit. The kiss soft and tender, lingering for a moment too long. "I'll see you around." He was gone within the second, leaving me shaking again.
Painstakingly alone and partially stuck in that nightmare.
...
I'm sorry...I am...didn't mean for it to get that dark. Who am I kidding? Yes I did. But-but it started off pretty good, didn't it? Okay...I'm gonna go think of a way to make up for this chapter.
Still love you all for reading this...you guys don't even know how much.
-Sylleth
