AN: There's only one more chapter after this. Enjoy.
Chapter 9
The Impala screeched to a halt in front of Emily's house and Dean could tell from the street that the front door was wide open. "Come on!" he huffed at Sam and rolled out of the car, snatching up their small bag of supplies needed for an exorcism. Sam wordlessly followed and they sprinted across the lawn to the porch.
It was as if Dean had tunnel vision, his only thought was getting to Emily. He knew she was in trouble, serious trouble, and he had to get to her before it was too late. He was so focused on getting inside the house that he never saw the large object slumped on the porch until it caught the toe of his boot and sent him crashing to the ground.
"Oh shit!" he just barely managed to bring his hands up in time to prevent his face from smacking the threshold. He lifted up and turned to see the cause of his fall, a human body. Actually, a girl to be more precise, and she looked about Emily's age but slightly heavier.
"It's Cara," Sam's words echoed what Dean thought must be true, and the younger Winchester knelt to check for a pulse.
Dean didn't have time to wait around. He knew the girl was already dead and scrambled back to his feet, his motions hastened by the sudden, ear-piercing scream that rang through the house. He charged through the entrance and into the foyer, trying to determine the location of the scream. Another scream, this one followed by a loud crash, led him to a room just off to his right, the living room.
Dean wasn't sure what he'd expected to find, but certainly not the scene that met his eyes. There was Emily, in all of her five foot one inch terror, pinning a woman that must be her mother against the wall with one hand. The other hand held a chair leg, its owner having been used to knock James Russell across the room and the man now lay motionless beneath the ruined piece of furniture.
"Emily!" Dean called, and the girl's head snapped around to where he stood. The once hazel eyes were endless pools of black and her pretty face was contorted into a mask of what could only be described as pure evil. "Emily," Dean tried again and felt Sam come skidding to a halt behind him.
The creature that had taken Emily's body cackled, using the girl's vocal chords to conjure up a sound from the very depths of hell. "Emily was weak," the creature spoke, the voice like fire crackling. "She was so soft, so pliable." With those words, and wicked smile played across its lips and it grasped Mrs. Russell by the throat, swinging the woman around in front of it like a rag doll.
"Here," Dean shoved the small bag at Sam. "Start reading."
Sam obediently tore open the bag and pulled out the weathered family bible, the pages needed for an exorcism already folded down. He began chanting in Latin, the phrases rolling off his tongue like lines memorized for a long rehearsed performance.
Dean headed towards the creature carefully and tried to calm Mrs. Russell. "It's okay Ma'am, we're here to help."
The woman stared into Dean's face, openly sobbing. She was an older version of her daughter; they shared the same nose and round cheeks. Only now the likeness wasn't so apparent as the creature twisted Emily's face to its own liking. "Please, please help me!" Mrs. Russell cried, trying to pull free from the creature.
The thing cackled again and spun Mrs. Russell so that it was facing her and grasped her throat with both hands. Dean could see the tension in its arms as it began to squeeze Mrs. Russell. "No…no…Emily!" Mrs. Russell gasped, scratching wildly at her daughter's arms. Her nails drew blood, but the creature was oblivious and raised Mrs. Russell up off the ground, closing the woman's windpipe. Mrs. Russell tried to call out again, but couldn't, she couldn't even draw another breath.
Dean saw that it was his only chance and dove at the creature, grabbing it around the mid-section and pulling it to the floor with him. It immediately dropped Mrs. Russell, who crumpled lifelessly onto the hardwood, and turned its attentions to the new threat: Dean.
When they landed, Dean had the good fortune of ending up on top and had the creature pinned with its wrists on either side of its head. It hissed and spit at him, trying to wriggle its way free. Dean knew that he wasn't stronger than a demon, but he was pretty damn strong and figured he might be able to hold on to the thing long enough for Sam to finish his recitation.
"Emily, I know you're in there somewhere. Just hold on, baby," he pleaded.
The creature grinned once more, a chilling expression. "Emily's gone, I told you she was too weak."
Dean could feel its hot breath, almost taste the evil that the thing radiated. He turned away, feeling sick to his stomach. "Sam!" he thundered. "Hurry the fuck up!"
Sam was chanting as loudly and quickly as possible, one hand holding his shaggy hair out of eyes so that he could see the words more clearly.
A soft moan floated from across the room, signaling that Russell was coming to. Dean heard scraping sounds as the man lifted the chair off of himself, then a gasp. "What are you doing? What are you doing to my daughter?"
"Not the time, James!" Dean said through gritted teeth. It was getting harder to hold the creature, it was too strong. He knew that he had to get to the vial of holy water inside his jacket before Sam finished, but he couldn't afford to loosen his grip.
Russell was on his feet now, staggering across the room towards Dean and what he believed to be his daughter. "Get off of her! Get off of her!" he screamed, hands pawing at the air as he neared man and monster.
"Don't come any closer!" Dean yelled, watching horrified as the enraged father drew even closer.
Suddenly there was a hand on Russell's shoulder and Dean noticed that Sam was no longer chanting. "Mr. Russell, that's not Emily, it's Cristolokar. You have to let us finish the exorcism," Sam tried to reason.
Dean felt the creature bring its knee up and catch him in the gut. "Sammy! Finish it now!"
Then something happened that none of them expected; the creature stopped struggling. Dean looked down and to his amazement was met by Emily's hazel eyes, unclouded by evil. She was pale and shaking. "What…" then recognition flashed across her features. "Dean, please help me…please help me…" Her eyes rolled back into her head and then became filled with blackness once more.
For just a moment, Emily had broken through the creature's hold, but now it had her once more. But now the creature looked shaken, unsure of its control on the host.
"Weak, huh?" Dean asked maliciously. "You can't hold on to her, can you asshole?"
The creature snarled with pure hatred for the man pinning it to the floor. "What makes you think you can do any better, Winchester? You think you can keep her forever?" Dean was slightly taken aback by its comments and the creature took that fraction of a second to shove him aside and kick up to a standing position.
"Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother's collar and hauled him to his feet. "Are you alright?"
"Just keep reading," Dean barked and pulled the holy water from his jacket.
As Sam resumed, Russell went to his daughter, arms outstretched. "Emily, it's me, it's Dad!"
Dean could see the creature lunge for the man, going no doubt for his throat. He leapt forward and knocked Russell out of the way, catching the brunt of the creature's attack. It missed his throat, but pushed him to the ground, looming over him.
"And now she will kill you!" the thing growled, pulling back to pounce on Dean. But the attack never came. The creature paused, then spasmed, arms jerking around unnaturally. It hissed and moaned, smoke starting to come from its ears.
"Are you doing that Sam?" Dean asked as he scooted away from the creature.
"No," Sam stood, bible still open, amazed at what he was seeing.
Dean suddenly realized what was about to happen as the thing began to tremble all over, black eyes flickering. "The book, Sam. The prayer book!"
Sam dug into the bag that had held the bible and pulled out The Servant's Prayerbook. He tossed the heavy volume to Dean, who caught it just in time.
The creature dropped to the floor on all fours and howled with unearthly pain. Something that looked like black water began to pour from its eyes, nose and mouth, and hung suspended in the air like smoke. The floating puddle took on a life of its own and shot through the air towards Dean. He brought the Prayerbook up in front of his face and the blackness seemed to be sucked into it as if the volume were a sponge.
As soon as all traces of the liquid were gone, Dean yanked the Zippo he carried for just such emergencies from his pocket and lit the corner of the book on fire. Almost immediately, the entire thing exploded into blue flames and he dropped it to the floor where it crackled into naught but a pile of black ashes.
Dean looked up from the burning book to where Emily was still on her hands and knees. She looked at him, her face extremely pale and her eyes glazed over. But they were her eyes. She was the real Emily, untainted and very much alive.
"Dean?" she whispered just before her eyes fluttered closed. He rushed forward as she lost consciousness and collapsed into his arms.