A/N Can you guys tell that I'm binging the series? Comments are appreciated, and some updates are coming soon to Cursed Blood.
Enjoy!
Dean felt like a deep sea diver who had never learned to swim as he kicked helplessly in the air. He tried to wedge his fingers between the rope and his neck, hoping to give himself any room to breath. There was no escaping this one. He could see Sam being strapped to the Table of Death, could hear Charlie monologing to Jay in the way that all the villain wannabees did, but it all felt so far away. Everything around him was being choked away.
"But we were so close..."
He could feel Alastair breaking every one of his fingers before shattering his hand. The heat of his knife plunging into his bad shoulder. The agony of his skin being peeled away from his thigh before his hamstrings were cut like pieces of string. The warm blood gushing from his broken nose, the fire that nipped at his heels, the incisions that left him feeling like a filleted fish.
He dropped to the floor as Charlie crumpled in front of him and the noose went slack, but he couldn't really see it. He was blind to Sam rushing to his side, to the incredulous look on Jay's face, and to the mundane theater stage that he lay on, gasping for breath.
All he could see was the rack.
"In Hell."