i am so far behind in SPN right now haha
Sapphireswimming: Dude, you are like so close to having the right idea (sorry for the late reply) and thank you so much for your kind words they mean so much to me ;w;
Habato: The numbers probably don't mean as much as you wish they did (but here's a longer chapter)
0.
You're aware; your conscious tingling in a reboot, a restart. Your vision comes back, spotty and pulsating with a white noise, but layered a smoldering crimson.
Your hands are moving but you're not doing it; your body is moving but you're not directing it. You can't feel your fingers ghosting over the slick gun but you know it's not you in control.
That's when you notice it.
It's there and then it isn't; it's a non-entity that is sharing space in your head and it's not friendly. You shove at it, pushing mental hands into its sides with bruising force.
It laughs at you, a trickle of blood is slipping from your nose, and.
then the limbs are sliced off at the wrist.
You shut down from the blinding painohgodohgodohgodithurts—
["You're not as strong as you'd like to think you are, boy."]
A roar fills the normally clever space between your ears, and then you're aware. Consciousness rushes back in a wave of fire, a burning pain, but it fades to a dull growl, and then you can see.
You don't know where you are, but the man in orange has the biggest grin on his face you've ever seen and.
his eyes look tired, and sad.
A hiss rings loud, and you shrink back.
The man chatters on, lips moving without a single sound reaching you, and throws an arm over your shoulder—any other time you might have been surprised; he's tall. You're thinking you might be in his home when a girl and an older woman come down some stairs. The girl zeroes in on you, her eyes narrowing, but you only have eyes for the older woman in that moment.
Your entire being burns with desire.
She smiles at you and whatever is crowding your mental space swells, pushing against you.
You're vision flickers.
The scene has changed, the walls are a shiny metal and the room is cluttered with technology, and the man has his back to you.
The gun from before is in your hands.
You start yelling, beating at the thing controlling your mind with re-imagined but thin hands. You shove and you shove, and your yelling devolving into screams as you throw all that you can at whatever it is.
It knocks you aside, perhaps with a bit of effort behind it, and your vision shutters out.
["And now she's all mine."]
Beeping beats hard at your ears, and you groan, brown eyes slipping open to slits.
Your heart jumps, skipping a beat.
The man is a bloody smear against the wall, blood darkening the orange jumpsuit in dark patches and pooling under his hulking frame.
Someone screams.