Bad Moon Rising
Chapter 11
Omega grit his teeth against a scream as the scalpel sliced into his back. The demon dressed in scrubs, a butcher's apron and safety goggles carved a long rectangle into the vampire's flesh. Picking up a pair of blunt hemostats, he locked onto the flap of skin and ripped it off.
Omega couldn't stop the scream that erupted from his throat. Burning pain seared down his nerves and his scream broke off into vehement curses as blood poured down his sides. The demon set the hemostats, still holding the flap of skin, in a steel dish. He picked up a clipboard and stopwatch, timing how fast the skin knitted over and reformed. Omega panted and strained against the many straps and chains holding him down, but the demons had learned their lesson after his first escape.
Sadly, he hadn't made it far. While their blood tasted similar to the demons in his own dimension, these demons were vastly different from those he knew. He had underestimated their capacity for pain in their borrowed bodies and they walked right through his first attacks, meant to disable instead of kill. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
Under orders from Asmodeus to suss out what the hell he was, it hadn't taken them long to figure out that blood loss weakened him and they had used that to their advantage. The hunger raged through him, competing with the pain for his attention. The demon clicked a button on the stopwatch, made a note on the clipboard and set it aside.
"Very interesting. You're not from around here, are you?"
Omega ignored the question and the demon laughed.
"If you don't like what I'm doing to you, wait until the interrogators get you. You'll answer their questions...eventually." Still chuckling, the demon started unbuckling the straps and chains holding Omega down. "Lucky for you, I've got all the data I need for now. You get a little break. We wouldn't want you numb to the pain when your questioning begins, would we?"
Omega grit his teeth as the demon jostled his aching body. The blood lust thrummed down his nerves, magnifying the scent of blood wafting off of the demon's vessel. His entire being cried out for sustenance, to rip into the nearest creature that bled human blood and drink his fill. He hadn't been this depleted in years and as the last chain fell away, he surged up off the table, launching himself at the demon.
Had he been in his right mind, he wouldn't have had the strength or stamina to attack. A sane, sentient mind will always reserve the last dregs of energy left in a body, lest the body give out entirely, but like a PCP addict, the hunger overrode that caution and he drove the demon to the ground, ripping into his throat and guzzling down the blood that poured out.
The demon fought him, able to animate the vessel even though it had suffered a fatal wound. Snarling, Omega jammed his fingers into the vessel's rib cage, gripping the bones and ripping it open like a rotten melon. The demon howled, only partially immune to the pain ripping through his stolen body. A moment later, black smoke poured from the vessel's mouth as the demon fled. Omega buried his face back into the ravaged neck, drinking down all that he could before the body cooled and the blood coagulated.
Rising, he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, but only managed to smear it across his cheek and into his hair. Gore soaked his front and dripped from the hem of his shirt. Ignoring the wet cloth clinging to his skin, he stalked from the room.
Certain that anything he found in this place outside of a prison cell would deserve death, he attacked first and questioned later, assuming the demons didn't smoke out to get away from him. By the time he found Castiel and Lucifer in their cells, he had drunk his fill. Blood soaked him from head to toe and Castiel jumped to his feet in alarm when the vampire stepped into sight on the other side of his bars.
"Cas?" Omega scowled at the angel, still feeling the effects of rapid starvation and tipsy with the influx of fresh, demon-tainted blood.
"Omega?" Castiel straightened out of the slight crouch he'd eased into. His blue eyes narrowed, examining the vampire's familiar stance and features under the gory curtain of blood.
Omega moved up to the bars, scowling at the cell's mediocre appearance. "After the smite you put on me, I wouldn't expect a set of iron bars to hold you, angel."
A raucous snicker erupted from the neighboring cell. Castiel cut a glare at the wall between his cell and the next. His lip lifted in a sneer.
"Oh, he likes it in there," Lucifer sneered from next door. "He could have busted us out long ago, but no. He's gotta be stingy with the Grace."
Castiel rolled his eyes and reached out for the bars. He touched one with a single finger and the metal lit up orange, throwing off a spark where he touched it. Writing in a language Omega had never seen before covered the bars in a brighter orange and then faded with the rest of the glow.
"Angel warding," Cas said, shaking his hand like he'd stuck it in a light socket. "Powerful angel warding. I don't have the strength to break it."
Omega huffed and reached for the bars himself. Nothing happened when his blood-covered hand wrapped around the cold metal. Grinning wide enough to bare his fangs, he moved down to the door. Castiel paced him on the other side of the bars, a touch of hope crossing his features.
Taking a good grip on the bars of the door, Omega braced himself and yanked. The metal groaned and something popped in the locking mechanism, but the door held. Shifting his grip he yanked again. More metal gave with an ear-shattering screech.
"Hey, hey, hey! You're going to bring the guards down on us," Lucifer said from his cell, suddenly at the bars and trying to peer out at Omega without touching the warding. "At least be smart and open my cell. He's useless. I can help you!"
The vampire ignored him and hauled on the bars a third time. The metal gave with a banshee screech and the cell door flew open. Castiel marched through the opening with a vindictive smile stretching his broad face.
"What about him?" Omega asked, nodding at Lucifer's cell. Castiel paused outside the bars and the King of Lies gave him a sheepishly beseeching smile.
"I should leave you here," Castiel growled.
"But you won't," Lucifer said with a knowing grin.
"The only reason I'm considering setting you free, too, is to keep you out of Asmodeus's hands. Let us be clear about that."
"Technically, you're not springing me," Lucifer sneered, gesturing at where Omega had moved to start wrenching at the devil's cell door. "He is."
"Shut up or I'll find out what your blood tastes like," Omega growled, hauling on the door again. Cas turned his back to the bars, watching for the guards that had come and gone since they first arrived here. Omega succeeded in warping the metal door free of its moorings without any demons showing up.
"Where are all the guards?" Cas asked as Lucifer stepped out of his cell.
"I ate them. Let's go," Omega said, turning his back on the devil and stalking down the corridor.
Dean raced down the county road at a speed he could never achieve as a human. He felt strong and invincible with Sam's blood coursing through him and guilt nipped at his heels like a pack of wild dogs. He should have insisted they cage him or kill him. Sure, conventional methods might not get rid of him permanently, but they should have at least tried. He could think of a dozen options they could have attempted to control him. Of course, they all violated the hell out of the Geneva Conventions, but that wasn't the point.
The Eastern horizon was growing light, dawn hovering at the edge of the world with imperative imminence. The excess light didn't hurt Dean, but a new instinct shrilled somewhere deep in his psyche, commanding him to seek shelter before the sun crested the edge of the planet. Judging himself far enough away from the bunker, he slowed to a walk and contemplated ignoring that demanding instinct and letting the sun take him. Would it kill him? It didn't kill the vampires he knew, but they had already established they couldn't depend on that lore for what he had become.
He knew he couldn't trust anything Omega had told him…not that anything the vampire said had turned out to be a lie yet, but he'd run and that automatically put him in the 'can't be trusted' category. Why would he run if they could trust him? So, Dean couldn't be certain Omega would have told him if the sun was a problem for their specific breed of vampire. He turned to face the Eastern horizon, squinting into the growing light.
He had left the bunker and his brother and Baby with a thought to finding a way to kill himself, but now that he was contemplating just that, it felt wrong. It was one thing for Sam to slice his head off or for Cas to douse him in holy flame. They would be protecting themselves and others from his depredations, but doing the deed himself felt like giving up. He'd had plenty of low points in his life, but even when he believed they were up shit creek without a paddle, there was always part of him ready to listen to and implement a plan if it had any chance of success. It just wasn't in him to go out without a fight. Not really.
But, he couldn't stay in the bunker. He couldn't risk hurting Sammy again. He didn't want to risk hurting anyone. Well, any human. And…okay, to be honest, there might be more than a few humans he wouldn't lose any sleep over killing, but none of them resided in the bunker. He couldn't go back, but he wouldn't die. He could hunt and maybe he could feed off of what he hunted. Many of them were very close to human. As long as he stayed away from innocents and those he cared about, he could make this work.
Grateful that the road he'd chosen ran parallel to the river that ran near the bunker, he made his way down to the water. Before the sun cast its rays on Lebanon, Dean located a drainage pipe deep enough and big enough to fit in. It stank of rotting vegetation and dead animals and the trickle of water down the center soaked his clothes when he laid down, but it provided the shelter he needed and sleep took him moments after he settled in.