Kill or Be Killed
By: chocolate rules
Chapter 8:
Scream
They made their way up the stairs and didn't bother to check the three rooms in the landing since they weren't large enough to hold a cult meeting. They stood at the basis of the steps holding their breaths, preparing themselves and hoping that Sam was there. Tom had no idea what they were going to do when faced with the cult itself, but Dean knew. If anyone touched his brother, he'd kill them, no second thought about it.
As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Then, it returned, stronger and clearer than before. Out of instinct, Dean pulled out the concealed weapon and as quickly and as quietly as possible, he went up the stairs. The entire time, the Latin chanting growing louder.
Then, there was the scream.
They were closing in on him. The tears were pouring down his face. He was clearly shaken by the images before him. Even in his lifelong career as a hunter, he'd never been exposed to such things. Not ever. They began picking at it. Chanting and picking at it and all the while telling him what they were going to do. Why? Why? Why?
Hours had passed. He had spent hours there. Had Dean discovered that he was missing yet? If he had, he had certainly of told their father. Oh God, oh God, oh god. When they find him, they were going to kill him. What if they never found him? What if he was stuck there forever?
Sam looked around the room. There were at the least twelve other people there. Member, thought Sam, they're all members of whatever the hell I was planning to join. Correction. Am joining. Twelve. Sam's eyes went wild with the realization of what that meant. There were twelve members now surrounding him. Chanting. And he was number thirteen.
They began chanting around him. He wished they'd stop. Or maybe they could pick a language that he didn't know. Then, maybe he would be able to relax. Then maybe he'd be a little more lenient to their feast.
Sam closed his eyes. He didn't want to do as he was instructed. He leaned his head back on the wall he was tied to. Oh Damn, maybe it'd just be easier to die.
One of them grabbed his chin. He had been breathing deeply for a few minutes and had started to block out their words again. But then one of them grabbed his chin and forced him to look into his beauty green eyes.
"Stick Your Arm Out, Boy." he commanded. Sam had never wanted to ignore a command more in his life. The pressure on his chin increased. "Now!" he insisted. Sam wanted to cry out 'No!' that he wouldn't be held down. That he was a warrior, a hunter, and that they weren't going to hurt him. That they wouldn't be his downfall. Instead, he let out a scream.
