"You Winchesters. You think you're such hot shit."
Dean grimaced, flexing against the ropes that bound him back-to-back with an unconscious Sam. His bruises ached, a cut on his cheek smarted, and he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, but he knew from previous experience that this demons pre-kill monologue would be the most painful thing to happen to him tonight.
"You and that whore you run around with."
Dean's expression must have given something away, because the demon snickered nastily.
"Oh yeah. You thought you had the drop on us, huh? Thought that we thought there were only two of you. Well, you thought wrong. And it's the last mistake your band of merry misfits is ever gonna make."
Dean's panic lasted exactly as long as that sentence. He spotted something moving slowly in the shadowy hall at the demons back. A short, slender silhouette stalking toward them in absolute silence. Quickly, he fixed his eyes back on the demon. Alice had the element of surprise at the moment. If he gave her away, they were all dead.
"She's either already back in hell where she belongs, or else begging to be," the demon sneered, unaware of the approaching threat. "You know, considering your reputation, I'm surprised at the company you keep."
Alice had reached the threshold of the room, close enough to be partially illuminated by the flickering yellow bulb that clung to the ceiling by a few wires. She stopped in her tracks, listening as the demon went on.
"I mean, where do I even begin? Your lady friend is... monstrous, to say the least."
Alice made a face at the demon's back.
"You two think you're so righteous. If so, why, I ask, is that abomination still breathing?"
Alice's mouth formed an offended 'o', and she placed her hands on her hips.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it."
Alice nodded approvingly, gesturing for more with one hand, while she flipped the silver knife playfully in the other.
"Such a creative form of sacrilege."
Alice leaned against the wall, nodding along as the demon prattled on. It started pacing, but still didn't notice Alice.
This went on for several minutes as the demon moved from one subject to the next, condescending, but also slipping tantalizing bits of key information into his exhaustive diatribe. Dean struggled for what felt like an eternity to hold in his laughter as Alice continued to silently mock the demon behind it's back.
Finally, it became too much for him when she mouthed 'blah blah blah' with the accompanying hand gesture. Dean's laughter rang out around them, echoing through the derelict apartment, and interrupting the demons spiel.
The demon laughed with him mockingly, and approached, hand raised to deal a silencing slap. Alice, finally bored of playing mime, stepped forward, and stabbed it in the back before it's blow could land.
"Jesus H.," she tutted as the body crumpled to the floor with a thud. "Talk about diarrhrea of the mouth."
