Chapter 11: Dark Times

All I could remember was getting shot before blacking out. There was an assailant, obviously, but I couldn't tell who it was. Probably some monster. I'm hoping Jasmine got him. I hope Sam and Dean got there to help. I'm hoping for a lot right now.

My eyes slowly open as I awaken from my small coma. The first thing I notice is that everything is dark, with flickering lights here and there. I went to stand up, and felt around. Cold, slimy bars are all that my hands cling to. I start panicking. This is nothing I've ever gone through before. Judging by the space between my shoulders and the walls, this cage had to only be something like four or five feet wide. I kept turning. Around. And around. And around again. There was no exit. Finally, I sat and curled up on the floor. Nothing is right here. That's when I heard the rusty creaking of a metal hinge. I look behind me and see a section of the bars moving. Instantly, I jump up and make a run for it.

The first thing I do is look around to get a good grip on the area. My cell was in a hallway lined with other cells. Looking inside, all I could see were bodies laying there. Some were pure skeletons with multiple outfits draped over them. I recognized the World War II-era German outfits, as well as some Victorian London garments. Other cells held decaying bodies, which smelled of rot and had maggots crawling around them. Keeping the bile that was attempting to rise in my throat back, I kept going. There is one cell I pass, and I look at the body there. Its back is turned to me, but I can make out a thick body covered in a very 1920's style gangster suit. Suddenly, it turns to me and stands up, and I hold in a scream. The body's face is nothing but thin tissue stretched tightly across a strong-jawed skull. Frizzy white hair poked out of his scalp, and his eyes were pure orbs of white light. His jaw started to move, and he spoke in a dark, raspy voice.

"Run…RUN! Before…before they get…you…before you are damned into the darkest pits of Hell for all eternity…AAAARRRGGHHH!"

He stumbles back, and repulses violently. I hear sickening pops, and he hunches over. Bright fire spews from his eye sockets, which then go dark. The man just stands there, silently. Waiting. He turns his head up to look at me, the white orbs being replaced with inky black pools. His jaw drops, and a slow regurgitating sound comes from his throat. That's when the blood starts. Red, gelatin-like blood just oozes from the mouth, and he starts to walk towards me. I'm fine, though. He can't get through the gate. His hand, reaches towards the bars, and…

It passes through.

Out of nowhere, bodies are getting up and walking towards me, all of which can exit the cells. There's only one thing I can do. Run.

My feet carry me through the maze of hallways as I try to escape. Every time I look behind me, I see the horde of undead, seemingly getting closer with each light flicker. Run. Just run and don't look back. Or else they'll get you. I keep going until, finally, a corner reveals a door at the end of a hallway. This is it. Keep going. I run down what seems like an eternity, when something slick catches my foot and I suddenly fall face first into something warm and wet. I stand up, and find myself suddenly covered in thick, black liquid that is somehow also flooding up to my shins. The smell is worse than anything I've ever smelled, like the pure essence of evil, and I allow myself these few seconds to empty my stomach contents. Moaning behind me. I look back and see them. The monsters. I realize that now. They're the monsters of society. The crooks. The villains. The psychopaths. The killers. Then what does that make me if I'm here?

I am able to open the door and lock it, leaving the things outside to stay there, at least for a while. While I'm waiting for them to figure out a way in, I decide to explore the room. It's a large cavernous hall, lit only by blazing candelabras. Not much is in the room, aside from tall bookcases reaching to the ceiling. I walk around slowly, with an echo appearing every time I walk.

"The echoes of your past, filth," a voice in the back of my head says, and I shiver.

I make it to the end of the hall, where a large chair sits, like a throne. I sit down, and put my head into my hands. This is too much. Too much. I'm not prepared for this. This. What is this? I still can't figure it out. Nothing. Makes. SENSE. I start to cry. My brain hurts. Like a million drills burrowing into my head. I was shot. I'm most likely in Hell, or some form of it. I'm dead. Or at least dying. At this point, I look up and see two things on the floor. A meter-long sword, and a gun. I walk over and grab the gun. I open the chamber and discovered that there's only one round. Confused, I wondered what it could mean. My question was cleared up when I felt a sharp pain on my palm, and saw blood dripping. The droplets fell to the dark burgundy floor and formed four words: "KILL OR BE KILLED". It was clear now. I either use the gun, or the sword. The sword meant fighting the corpses outside, while the gun…meant I could ensure myself death. The voice comes back in my head.

"A bullet to the head? The coward's way out. You are no coward, you're a hunter. A killer. You were born to killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKIIIIILLLLLLLL!"

I decide its right, and so I cock the gun, but not to use for its intended purpose. Instead, I aim at the door and fire, blasting the lock to pieces. Slowly, the horde of monsters shuffles in. There must be dozens of them. I grip the sword in my hand tightly, waiting for an opportunity. Once some get close enough, I take it. Soon, five of them are on the floor, their limbs scattered about, as are their organs. I keep hacking and hacking, taking out my anger. MY ANGER. My anger at these. Monsters. Monsters kill. They kill and kill. My job is to kill them. So how did they kill me?

JASMINE. This is her fault. She lied to me. We could've been gone yesterday if she hadn't. She let me die. Either she killed me, or I killed her. I wouldn't be in this mess without her. But how did I get involved with her? THE WINCHESTERS. This is THEIR fault. They trained me to do the things I do. Every time I kill, it's because they showed me how. Every time I kill. Every. Time. I. KILL.

This is my fault. I killed. Even when I don't realize it, I kill. I killed my parents. If I didn't exist, then they wouldn't have gotten into the accident. No innocents would be dead whose cases were being handled by me. Their blood is on my hands. For every dead monster, there are twenty dead civilians. I've been raised to believe that I'm a pawn in a war. A war between the dark and the light. This is a lie. There is no war. There's only one side that has two factions which think they're better than the other.

I look down and realize what I've done. Bodies lay strewn about the floor, except they are not the zombies. Not the monsters. They are regular people. Men. Women. Children. Oh, god, the children. I then look at myself. My body is drenched in blood. Their blood. The blood of the innocents. I drop the sword, and it clangs to the ground. I killed these people. I make myself feel better by saying that the monsters did, but it's false. I am no better. I am the monster who hides in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment to kill. I am the thing that children cry in their sleep about. I am a hunter. Just not the kind I thought.

I fall to the ground, slam my fists on the floor, and let out a loud, guttural roar. Then, I realize it. The irony. I am what I hunt. I start to laugh. A long, dry, maniacal laugh. The voice comes back, and this time I accept it as my own. My real personality, revealing itself after years of hiding.

"You are a monster, Jason."

"Embrace it."

I hear a slow clapping sound behind me, so I turn myself around to see a man in a black suit with thinning dark hair watching me. He smirks, and starts to talk with a rough British accent.

"Very good, Jason. Excellent work. I have high hopes for you. Now, I'm going to send you back up, since I'm sure you miss it. However, I need something in return. Don't worry about it now, though. I have no need for favors right now. And, just so we're clear, I'm sure you're aware that you are no longer you. Anyways, have fun, and…I'll catch you later."

He snaps his fingers, and my eyes go fuzzy as I fall.

When I wake up, I find myself in a hospital room. It's very similar to the one from the accident, just a little bit bigger. I look around and see Jasmine and the Winchesters sleeping there. Judging by the dark sky out the window, it was late night or early morning. The voice, the real me, comes back and gives me some fun conversation.

"Look at them. The meat bags. We should kill them now before they awake."

"No. Not yet. HE will tell us when. Then we have some fun."

Next to my bed is a mirror, and I grab it. I see myself, my true self, for the first time. My features are etched in shadows, dark and pronounced. My entire body and clothes were covered in blood. The blood of those who I've killed. I am the apex predator. Designed for murder. Every muscle, every nerve, every impulse. They will activate in a second, specialized to function for one thing: death. Even my eyes show my true form. They shimmer between my regular blue, the weak side of myself, and hollow black orbs. My true form. At least, part of it. But I'll get there soon. Once the process is complete, I will kill. And kill. AND KILL.

I look at myself one more time, and I smile.

"This is going to be…truly entertaining."

I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! I felt it best that, since I've kept you all waiting, I'd write something extra special to commemorate the return of this story! This also marks the beginning of this story's evolution to more horror, and darker plots. I am still sticking to the main problems from before, but now they will be more subtle until I figure out what exactly I want to do with the final battle between the hunters and Ombra. I wish you all like this story, and I can't wait to write more! Thank you, and constructive criticism, as usual, is very much welcomed.