"RUN!"
"Let's get the hell out of here!"
A group of demons ran wildly across the hospital. After witnessing the grotesque demise of their pals, they took off running as if a vicious pitbull were biting at their heels. They have seen some gruesome sights in their pitiful afterlife, but none to the effect that had them shaking in their boots, even with their acquired powers.
"Get out!"
"We can't."
"Why not?" one of them shrieked.
"The doors are sealed!"
"What do you mean they're sealed? Smash the windows!"
"They're sealed too!"
"FUCK!"
CRASH
The entire wall next to them burst outward showering them in bits of drywall and rebar. A dustbowl cloud of white dust advanced over the small group, hiding them amongst its depths. The demons coughed and swiped their hands in an attempt to see through the dense mass.
Sounds of failed shouts and flesh being pounded into echoed all throughout the area, causing the demons' nervousness to shoot through the roof. When the sounds finally ceased, the three demons looked on in horror as a shadowy figure emerged from the dust, his eyes blazing with fury.
The demons took that as their time to run. In all their years in performing torture and bestowing evil, they had never seen someone so angry. In a way, he was a reminder of Hell, a vivid embodiment of their time down under serving as a memory they were not willing to relive.
The demons skidded to a halt when another pack of their buddies met up with them at the end of the hallway. A beefy bald guy centered in the middle of the pack pushed against the tiny Asian doctor keeping him from going anywhere. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded in a deep, baritone voice.
"Get the hell out of here! He's gone crazy!"
"Winchester?" the man asked.
"Yes. Run!"
The man just smiled. "We can take care him."
The tiny man shook his head in disbelief. "No you can't. I've never seen a hunter this angry before. If I were you, gather the troops!"
"Shove off, we can get him," the bald guy spat, nodding towards the other five fiends behind him, all wearing orderlies' hosts.
The Asian demon shrugged. "Your funeral," and he took off running.
The five demon gang members moved forward, strutting down the hallway, intent on maiming their next victim. At the far end of the hallway, they saw him, marching towards them in a hailstorm of glass and debris. Every time he passed by a door, its window pane would explode, the door left in shambles. But what was scary was the look he had permanently donned on his features: a look of cold fury. His clothes were covered in filth and sweat and blood, the bloodstain growing larger on his side. It seemed as though he didn't care.
The leader shrugged away his uneasiness and charged at him, along with the rest of his men. Once in proximity, the leader threw a meaty fist against Sam. Sam caught it in his palm, and immediately twisted it harshly to the left, effectively snapping the bone and ligaments. The leader howled in pain, and was flown backwards with the nod of Sam's head. The others ran forward surrounding him, each one attacking at different times. Counting maybe five hits at the most Sam threw out, all the demon spawn were sprawled on the ground.
Sam remained quiet during the entire time, lifting his hand to each and every one of the orderlies, exorcising all the demons. The leader scrambled to his feet, grappling his wrist, and took off at a sprint. Sam glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. His eye twitched, and the adjacent wall to the nearby man exploded, knocking him off his feet. Sam was at the demon's feet in a matter of seconds. The demon peered up in terror, raising his hands in surrender. But it did nothing to inspire sympathy, and before the demon had the chance to speak, it was already exorcised.
Gulping in a large breath and wiping the blood spillage under his nose, Sam scanned his surroundings and learned that the entire place appeared like it survived a category five hurricane: him. Too angry to care, he walked on intent on locating every demon that roamed the hospital. With his newfound abilities, he could feel their evil souls pulsate in certain parts of the hospital. The main mission now was to track down Lilith and take down as many of her henchmen as possible, even if it led to his death. Which, more than likely it will be, but he lost all care in the world. It wasn't like he had anything else to hold on to.
"LILITH," he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
He was positive he saw her. It had to be. What other demon have they met so far that had pale white eyes and had a keen interest in inhabiting little girls? His hatred for the demon grew in intensity. She was the reason why they were in this predicament. She was the reason why Dean was dead. Twice now, he died because of her doing. And twice now, it was Sam's fault. But where are the angels? He didn't understand any of it. If God had favored Dean, dragged him from the pit for a reason, then why would he allow this to happen? Why?
The combination of guilt and confusion boiled together in an amalgam of bitterness for Sam. It wouldn't be given justice if he just said he was sad, hurt, and angry. He was livid. Fused with the idea that he was all alone in the world, and the apocalypse still was raining down upon them, he became even more dissociated. The power that raged within him was only fueled by his emotions. And he knew they were waning quickly. The tear in his side reaped a little more during his rampage, and blood seeped through it more freely than he thought it was.
The adrenaline he was living off of earlier, now was near depletion levels. He felt incredibly light-headed and the nausea was back, probably due to the strain using his powers put on his body. His joints ached. His eyes were at half-mast, but he pushed forward. He had a demon to cross off his hit-list.
"LILITH," he screamed again, alerting the entire hospital of his presence. "Come on you crazy bitch. You want me so bad, here I am!"
He stumbled on, the fire raging inside of him burning brightly. He entered an intersection heading towards the pulsing energy the demons gave off. It didn't surprise him when one demon pounced from the side. He quickly back-stepped, grabbed a hold of his shoulder, and rammed his head into the opposite wall. Another demon came out of another hallway. He whirled around and began thrusting his palm upward in the man's nose. The demon's head jerked back with each thrust and soon he was a bloody mess lying prone on the ground.
Sam walked on. There was a brief moment where the room began to spin. The recent exertion from fighting the demons wasn't exactly ideal on his current state. Breathing through it, he gained control. The dizzy spots continued. If he was to keep going, he needed to get over this real soon.
Suddenly, another demon ran up from behind him. Twirling around, he lifted his hand stalling the female demon two feet in front of him. Flicking his finger, the unleashed energy started choking the nurse. He stomped up to her, glaring at her dangerously. Yeah, he could've killed her, but he needed information. "Where is she?"
The demon grimaced and spat at him.
Dodging the flying wad of spit, he clenched his fist, causing the nurse to whimper. "I asked, where is she? Where's Lilith? "
At first, he thought the demon wasn't going to respond. But when he made a gesture of his infamous exorcism technique, she gasped, "No please don't."
"Then answer me. Where is Lilith?" he demanded angrily.
The demon stared at him fearfully with her black eyes. Gasping, she answered. "Not here. She…she left!"
Sam felt the anger inside reach boiling point. Of course, she left. Lilith wouldn't have stuck around, not when she could've been overpowered. She hated surprises. Disappointed, but yet not surprised, he turned back to the demon. "Guess that means I'll have to take out the rest of the trash."
The demon's eyes widened. She shrieked "no", but it was no use, as her demonic soul was sent downstairs, much faster than the others had been. Sam's technique was becoming more efficient. Now if he could do it to the rest without losing it. He could feel his energy slipping. Sensing the rest of the building, he felt the horde of demons energy grow in one particular spot. That must mean they were congregating. He smiled. Guess that's where he will head.
It was much quieter than the rest of the building. A still silence settled all around the scene. It was a disturbing sight. Bodies everywhere. Some alive. Some dead. Blood splattered the walls and adorned the floor. It was horrifying.
But there was one particular bloody body that stood out from all the rest. He lay deadly still and was on the brink of death himself. His pallor was stark white. Anyone would've believed he was dead.
A figure knelt down beside the man, softly running a pale hand over his chest. The figure pressed down over his rapidly spreading wound. After muttering a few phrases, a light lit up underneath the figure's palm and the man woke up with a start.
Coughing, Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the rush of oxygen burning down his throat. Establishing a good stability on his breathing, he pressed against the wet spot on his shirt, preparing to feel pain, but was shocked to find none. He lifted his shirt and saw that the stab wound was healed, not even a mark on the skin. Feeling a presence beside him, he looked up to see the figure and gasped, totally perplexed at who it was.
He was about to say something when the figure immediately silenced him by raising a hand. It spoke in an eloquent voice, "No time to explain. We have to hurry."
Sam walked headlong through the doors and into the room where he felt the congregate of demon energy. As expected, there was an assembly of twenty or so demons waiting for him. He knew it must've been a trap. Since he concentrated on sealing the building's doors and windows, there was no other form of escape and so the demons only option left was to fight back. He expelled a long tired breath. Every part of his body hurt, but he wasn't going to let that distract him. He focused on saving his energy just for this.
One of the demons, a tall built woman, approached, "So Winchester. Is this how it's going to be?"
Sam smirked, "I guess so."
The woman shook her head, "Pity. You are a handsome devil." Instantly, she threw up her hand and Sam was launched backwards unprepared. He slammed into the door, the back of his head shattering the window pane. He slumped to the floor.
A few of the demons came forward with eager faces. Shaking his head to rid of the tweedy birds, Sam climbed to his feet, throwing his arm out, to which the demons simultaneously flew backwards. Sam panted, trying to think of a decent plan, as the enemy was slowly getting back to their feet. He wanted to just exorcise them all, but with the blood loss, the exhaustion, and the light-headedness all piled into one, there was no way he could take them all out in one go. Yeah, this was foolhardy.
So he tried to focus on one. He raised his arm at the main female demon who spoke to him, and concentrated on pulling its soul out of the body. Wide-eyed, she coughed and gagged, the black demon smoke pouring out. But soon her buddies were up and running at him. He blocked each punch and kicked issued, all the while concentrating on the main demon. He gritted his teeth as the strain of multi-tasking became arduous. Turning around, he threw his forehead into a mediocre man's nose. After the man backed away, he continued on exorcising the woman. Soon the demon was in the ground.
Blood poured freely from both nostrils after a fist connected with them. Sam bit his tongue from the sharp spike, and cocked his head to the side when the demon swung again. Straightening back up, he lifted his leg and kicked the guy into a wall, forcing him to smash into an emergency box. Nodding his head, he unleashed some more of his pent up power, forcing the demons to back off him.
The dizziness came back, much to his displeasure. He breathed through it, his eyes narrowing on the nineteen demons left to exorcise. The demons assembled once again, launching forward with their fists raised high. Sam grabbed a demon's, wearing a patient, arms at the last moment, keeping them up high over his head.
Unbeknownst to Sam, another fiend broke off the handle of a broomstick, came around him and swung the pole into his injured calf. A loud primitive cry escaped Sam's throat. Ripples of pain undulated up his leg, traveling up to the rest of his body. Coming to a quick decision, Sam shoved the patient away, kneeling down to clutch at his throbbing leg. The same demon swung the pole again, cracking the wooden handle over his head. Sam fell onto his stomach, the tweedy birds resurfacing in his vision again. He grimaced when his body's sense of numbness left and the full fury of the bump on the back of his head became prominent. God, the pain never stops.
The demons stood all around him, smiling and laughing amongst themselves.
Unwilling to give up, Sam raised himself onto his knees. Lifting his palm one more time, he focused on the patient demon in front of him. The demon gagged, grabbing at his throat. The others realized what he was up to, and so they began to kick at him ruining his attempt. Unable to handle the kicks at his legs, side, and occasionally his bruised face, Sam let down his hand.
The demon smoke flew back into its victim, gasping for air.
The demons weren't done. They continued to kick at Sam. He tried to crawl away, but they surrounded him from all sides. The man with the broomstick backed up and ran forward throwing all his weight into a kick that made contact with Sam's abdomen. Sam screamed, falling onto his elbows and clenching his trembling fists. He tried to breathe through the pain, but it was no use: it was everywhere. A terrible force erupted in Sam's stomach and he felt it travel up his esophagus. Once pooling at the back of his throat, he spit it out: blood.
After more assaults brought on by the demons' feet, Sam wasn't able to handle it anymore. He fell over on his side and waited. He wanted it over. This beating. This life. His main target had escaped. But at this point, it was obvious that going after Lilith was pointless. And so he just wanted it to end, that way he could be reunited with his family.
So Sam Winchester just laid there, against the wall, bleeding out, constantly assaulted by the demons hovering overtop of him.
But as soon as it started, it stopped. He couldn't feel the demons kicks anymore. A warm blanketing sensation settled over his body. His eyes closed to slits, his body succumbing to the exhaustion it felt since they began this whole battle. The sensation grew heavier, a bright light shining in his vision. But then he felt something soft and gentle grasp his chin and pull it upward, where he heard a lovingly whisper spoken to him, a praise… "You've done well Sam…" He couldn't understand the rest, as it was all jumbled in his mind.
He could feel his body shutting down, or that's what it felt like. Then he heard something else, his name being called by…
No, it can't be.
He heard it again; his name being called by his brother.
"Sam!"
Dean?
Hearing his brother wasn't enough, and he then felt the familiar hands pick his sore body up and hold onto him. That's when he realized he must've already died. He was somewhat relieved. He couldn't wait to see his mom and dad again. I'm good now, as long as I have my family with me.
And he closed his eyes and went to sleep.