Cold.
It was so damn cold.
Things had slowed down. The world had collectively decided on a slower pace. Sam didn't like it. This was wrong. A slow waltz when it should have been a boogie. It should have been fast. And loud. With lights and sirens and intercoms and doctors barking out orders. It should have been hustle and bustle. It should have been Dean shouting and smart mouthing and flirting with pretty nurses. It shouldn't be soft and hushed. They didn't do soft and hushed. It was enough to prompt Sam into opening his eyes.
He didn't like what he saw.
Things were blurry at first. A gray landscape with columns in deep shades of red and pink and cream and tan. White around the edges with a frosty mist in the air. A few blinks and the images cleared enough for Sam to wish he wouldn't have tried to wake up. The columns of red and pink and cream and tan turned out to be the bodies Dean and Alex had talked about. Bodies missing skin, some in full and some only in parts. Bodies strung upside down, by the feet, muscles exposed. They were bled dry, cleaned and treated, ready for processing. White crystals hung around the edges. Freezer burn. That explained the cold. They were in the freezer.
With that thought, Sam came fully alert. His hands were tied above his head tightly at the wrists, hanging from a latch hook. He would have been able to get out of the latch if his feet hadn't been dangling a couple inches off the ground. He could almost swipe his toes along the floor, but it was just out of reach. He was still fully clothed, which he guessed was a plus. Better off than Dean. Dean. Sam's head whipped to the side and he gasped when he saw his brother. Dean was hanging in a similar fashion. Hands tied at the wrist, strung up above his head. Feet a good few inches off the ground. His shirt was in tatters and Sam could see the wound in his shoulder. The sling had been discarded and the bandage was soaked through. Dean was pale. His lips tinged slightly blue. But he was rasping and there was a grimace on his face. He was alive.
"Dean?" Sam whispered, wincing when he tried to move and only ended up swinging himself a bit and making his arms lace with pain. "Shit," he gasped. How long had they been hanging there? His arms felt like they were dead. "Dean," he tried a little bit louder. There was no response at all from his brother. Dean just kept on hanging there, grimace solid on his face, rasping shallow and short. Sam worried that his brother wasn't shivering. His body was shutting down.
Something metallic clanged behind them and Sam turned his head quickly, trying to look over his shoulder, past his arms hanging in his way. He caught a glimpse of movement, but beyond that, he couldn't really see much. The sounds came again, only this time Sam could recognize what they were. Someone was sharpening their knives. Clanging the two together. Sam's chest swelled with panic and he tried to turn himself around. He needed to see who was there. He didn't want to be taken unaware. But he couldn't get his body to turn without taking off the skin on his wrists.
A deep laugh. Sam froze. Footsteps made their way up behind him.
"Who are you?" Sam demanded sharply, not liking this silence anymore. He tried again to look over his shoulder. He could make out a dark blur out of the very corner of his eye making its way towards him, coming up straight behind him. Shit, shit, shit. His skin stung with the anticipation of feeling the touch of that sharp knife dig into his back. But it never came. The footsteps stopped and Sam tried again. "Hey, I'm talking to you."
Another laugh and Sam felt something touch his lower back. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped his throat. Fingers, widely spread ran across his lower back, coming around his side and feeling his stomach. Sam struggled against the touch. It was definitely a violation of his personal space. He was so kicking this guy's ass. But the fingers weren't meant to violate or be sensual. They were feeling. Testing. The way someone would test a slab of meat for tenderness, tautness, soft spots. It made bile rise up in the back of Sam's throat.
Then the fingers were gone and Sam watched as the black blob finally came out from behind him. He stared hard at the thing that had strung him and his brother up like meat racks. Sam hadn't been sure what he'd been expecting out of this demon, but this wasn't it. It had a man's physique. But its skin was black. Looked like it was charred, burnt. Symbols stuck out on his skin in scars. Its eyes were white. The purest white. They stuck out boldly from the blackened skin. It was smiling, the most evil smile Sam had ever seen. Its teeth were rotten, decayed, sharp and carnivorous. It had hair like a human's. Shaggy and white, like its eyes. It was like no other demon Sam had ever seen. It looked like something out of a comic book. Something some lonely guy had thought looked cool and drew up and made come to life. It didn't look real. But it definitely was.
And Sam could only stare at it, wide eyes, lips parted.
"Well!" Lyle's voice rung loud and protruding in the room. Sam jerked, having not known that the other man was even in the room. He watched as Lyle came in front of him, followed by Keith, which surprised him again. He'd thought both of the men were dead until Lyle had shown up in the woods. The hook was still embedded deeply in Lyle's eye. Blood ran down half his face, but he acted as if it weren't even there. Keith stood beside him, skin pale, blue. He looked like the walking dead and Sam wondered if maybe he was. "The little fella decided to wake up," Lyle sneered, his face scrunching and bringing another strem of blood and puss from his eye. Sam grimaced.
"Just in time," Keith said with a chuckle. It was garbled because as he spoke, water dribbled from the corners of his mouth and from his nose. He coughed and drops flew out. Brown, nasty water. Keith was walking around with a lungful of meat water.
"How are you still alive?" Sam asked, his voice more timid than he'd meant it to be. He wanted to keep them talking. Wanted to delay whatever was going to happen and give himself a chance to think of a way out of this mess. But he was already begining to see that his plans so far had all fallen through. There wasn't much more he could do. He'd have to get crafty if he wanted to get out of this one. Because they would get out of this one. They had to. Dying here was not an option for Sam, and definitely not for his brother either.
Lyle and Keith laughed. Sam ignored the new spurts of blood and water from each of them respectively. Keith reached to a chain around his neck. He withdrew an amulet and dangled it in front of Sam. "Magic," Keith teased. Sam's eyes widened, his thoughts going back to Sue Ann LeGrange. The cross she'd worn around her neck. The way she'd controlled the reaper. He knew that Lyle and Keith had been doing something similar when he'd seen their basement. But this confirmed it. That amulet, whatever it was, was controlling the demon, and was probably the reason both of them were still walking and talking when they should have been dead.
The demon drew Sam's attention as it started to clang its knives together again. Sam found the thing was watching him, its black tongue running over its lips. Sam tried not to visibly shutter, even though he was still shivering from the cold.
"Pretty thing, ain't he?" Lyle said. Sam looked back at him and growled when he saw Lyle standing in front of Dean, one hand holding Dean's chin, moving his head around. Dean didn't make a sign that he even knew what was going on. Sam didn't like Lyle's hands on Dean. Not when Dean couldn't do anything about it.
"Don't touch him!" he spat angrily.
Lyle turned to look at him, still gripping Dean's chin. He chuckled. "What?" he asked and let go. Dean's head fell forward and Sam watched his brother swing limply. "Like this?" Lyle asked and Sam let out an angry yell as he backhanded Dean harshly across the face. Lyle wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, keeping him from spinning in his bonds.
"I'll kill you," Sam hissed.
"Ha!" Lyle mocked and pointed to the hook in his eye. "Tried it once already. You can't kill us, boy!"
Sam could almost hear his father's voice in his head. Good Sammy, get them talking about it. Get them to give some information. Get what you can and use it against them. All right.
"So you have some demon as your pawn, big deal," he prodded.
The demon stepped forward, still sharpening its knives. Sam glanced at it, warning it with his eyes to stay where it was. He knew if the demon wouldn't really listen to him, but he didn't know what else to do. With his hands tied up here and his body weak and cold, he couldn't really defend himself. He had to work with what he had and if giving off looks was the only weapon he had, then so be it.
"Big deal?" Lyle asked and chuckled. "When we bound our pet there to this necklace, we became gods. We don't get sick, we don't have to eat or sleep or drink. We're invincible."
"You can still bleed," Sam spat.
"Bleeding's not the same as dying," Lyle answered with a yell. "It's a price we pay for having this thing take care of our problems."
"So, what," Sam asked, trying to keep them talking. "You get mad at your neighbor for borrowing your hammer and you make that thing go kidnap them and turn them into sirloin steaks?"
Lyle and Keith both chuckled and Lyle patted one of the skinless bodies hanging upside down near to them. "Have to keep your pets fed well."
"It won't last forever," Sam said. "Demons don't like being pets. That thing will turn on you the first chance it gets."
"Keith," Lyle said harshly and held out his hand. Keith took the amulet from around his neck and handed it to him. Lyle pointed a finger at Sam. "Not as long as we have this," he said and held it up. "And you know what the good part is? Our mothers taught us to share. So we can pass along these new gifts to anyone we want. You want to be a god?" Sam didn't answer, he just stared Lyle down, fury growing inside of him. These guys were sick. They were beyond sick. He'd take the Benders over these guys any day. With the Benders at least he could fight them fairly. But these guys. Damn, how was he supposed to get out of this one? "Or maybe we'll give that privelige to your brother."
Sam froze, eyes widening. "No," he said as Lyle laughed and held the amulet to Dean's forehead. "Get away from him!" Sam screamed, every inch of him wanting to break from the ropes around his wrists and jump on Lyle to get him away from Dean. "Get your hands off my brother!" Sam screamed again. But Lyle was beyond listening. He pressed the amulet into Dean's forehead, holding his head up with the other. Dean's face scrunched as Lyle started whispering. Sam felt panic spike through him again and again. No, no, no. Dean's mouth opened with a gasp of air. Sam watched him struggle slightly, gasps and moans escaping from between his lips. "Dean!" Sam yelled at the same time Lyle stepped backwards, bringing the amulet with him.
Dean's body jerked forward, his eyes flying open. He sucked in deep lungfuls of air, eyes wide and panicked as they darted around the room. Sam tried to catch them, tried to draw his brother's attention to him, to show him he wasn't alone, to try and give him any sort of comfort that his presense could give. When Dean's eyes finally fell on him, they stared at each other for a moment. Sam watched him closely. This wasn't good. Not good at all. Yeah Dean was awake and not crying out in pain, but it wasn't natural. Pain hurt for a reason. To tell your body that you were injured. If Dean couldn't feel pain, if he didn't pass out when he lost too much blood, that wasn't natural, that wasn't good. Shit.
"Sammy?" Dean asked as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to get his bearings on his body before he opened them again.
"Dean," Sam answered and watched his brother open his eyes again. They landed on the demon, still sharpening his knives and Sam watched fear, disgust and a million other emotions play across Dean's face. Every emotion except pain. "Are you okay?"
Dean frowned, eyes not leaving the demon. "I feel...fuzzy," he said. Lyle and Keith laughed as Lyle put the amulet around his neck. The chain got caught on the hook in his eye for a second before falling into place. "What did Dumb and Dumber do to me?" Sam didn't know what to say. That they turned him into a walking zombie? Because Dean wasn't dead, but he hadn't exactly been up to talking and cracking jokes either. Whatever demon steroid spell they'd been under, Dean was now under. He could walk around and act normal with a giant hole in his shoulder. Perfect. Dean's eyes moved to Lyle and Keith, took on a disgusted look, and then moved down to look at his own shoulder and the blood that covered a good portion of his side. "I hardly feel anything."
"Oh?" Lyle asked, drawing both boys' attention back to him. He stepped forward and put his hand to Dean's broken collarbone, shoving the protruding bone with his thumb. Dean let out a pained scream at the sudden flare of pain. Sam might have yelled with him, but he wasn't sure through the beating of his heart in his ears. "Felt that, didn't ya?"
"You bastard," Dean grit out.
Lyle laughed. "Gotta have my fun."
Dean spit at Lyle, his face drawn, disgusted. "Oh yeah? Well go find some sheep to fuck."
Lyle smiled, but it was a smile that clearly showed he was unamused. He suddenly backhanded Dean again across the face. Dean grunted as his head snapped to the side. He cried out a bit as it jarred his collarbone, but the pain went away quickly. Lyle motioned with his hand for Keith to leave. The bigger man nodded and sneered at both Sam and Dean before opening the freezer door and walking out. Lyle leaned in close to Dean. "He's going to take you apart, piece by piece. You'll feel everything. You won't pass out and you won't die. There's no sweet surrender for you."
"You're strangely poetic for a backwoods hick," Dean said calmly. Lyle snorted, patted the side of Dean's face, and then followed Keith out of the freezer, closing the door behind him, leaving Sam and Dean alone with the demon, who still stood near the wall, sharpening his knives, eyes never having left Sam. But only a few seconds after they left, the demon turned around and placed its knives down on a table next to the wall. It started to prepare something else that they couldn't see. "Sam," Dean said. "Mind filling me in on what's going on? Shouldn't I be in a nice bed being coddled by some pretty nurse somewhere?"
"It's that amulet," Sam answered, resting his head against his arm. God he was tired. "It's why Lyle and Keith aren't dead. There's some spell on it that keeps them alive. They put it on you too."
Dean thought for a second, his eyes drifting to the demon's back. The demon had started to hum. It sounded strangely human. Quite eerie. "So what, I'm invincible? Sweet."
"Until we destroy that amulet," Sam cut in. "It's what they're using to control this thing," he nodded his chin towards the demon. "And when we destroy it, you're gonna hurt, a lot."
"Oh," Dean whispered. "Not sweet."
"Definitely," Sam agreed.
Dean was quiet for a moment. He looked up at his wrists, bound above his head. Sam watched him glare at the rope as if his eyes alone would just burn them away. Then his brother glanced back at the demon, secretively, before he looked back at the rope. "Remind me later what a martyr I am."
"Dean..." Sam warned, his stomach doing flips as his brother rubbed his wrists back and forth, slipping slowly out of the ropes, but rubbing the skin off as he did so. Droplets of blood snaked their way down his arms and beside the grimace on his face, Dean wasn't showing any signs that it hurt or that it would slow him down.
The demon suddenly turned and Dean stopped trying to get loose. It glanced at both Dean and Sam before growling and bypassing them both. "The fuck is this thing?" Dean whispered as they both tried to look over their shoulders and watch to see where the demon was heading. They heard a door open. Sam watched as Dean struggled some more with the ropes holding his wrists. He wasn't sure what his brother would do once he was free, but it would be better than remaining tied up the whole time.
"No, let go!" Both Sam and Dean froze, their eyes widening and struggling to see behind them at the voice. The hell? It couldn't be. "Please..." the voice begged and there was the sound of a small scuffle. Then, Sam and Dean watched as the demon came back, dragging someone behind it. Someone whom they both thought was dead. Someone whose neck was bent at an odd angle, whose eyes were wide as he caught sight of them, whose mouth was open with instilled fear. Someone who made Sam realize just how strong the spell that was now on his brother was. It had brought someone back from the dead.
"Alex?" Dean choked out.