Sooooo... our beautiful show is ending. they announced it minutes ago and i decided to ease my pain by writing. Supernatural has been a wonderful ride. ... ill just go cry some more.Disclaimer- i do not own supernatural
Chapter Six- Talking to Myself?
Sam spent the night in the familiar room and waited. His brother and father had spent the entire day away, and now Dean snored in bed, next to him. Dean had stumbled in around 11pm and without any acknowledgement, climbed right into bed with a very confused Sam. Sam could smell the booze from the moment his brother walked into the house and Sam sighed, letting his brother snuggle into his bed. Now, Sam was waiting… it seemed like that voice always came to him in his sleep, or between sleep and awareness. And sure enough, as Sam dozed off, a voice sang something in his mind.
Sam was in a room. It looked like a house without inner walls, but it was huge. Pillars of slate grey held up arched ceiling. The ceiling was black, reflecting firelight. A great Chandelier hung in the very center, glistening in the fire light of each candle. The jagged design of the chandelier was disorienting, sending odd dancing shadows on the floor and walls. Below his feet was some of the purest white marble he had ever seen. No color was on any surface. Everything was white, black, or grey. A huge bubbling claw footed bath sat right in front of Sam, the claws looking like talons of a bird. A roaring fireplace flickered to his left, the embers a brilliant yellow, grey granite chunks cradling the fire. On Sam's right was a huge bed. The frame looked like four black trees growing straight out of the marble floor, the branches tangling together to build a canopy over the bed, black netting was wrapped up in the leaves of the tree. The bed itself was once again, white, the sheets looking like the finest silk. One corner of the room was completely blacked out, looking like a black hole in all the brilliant shades of white and dark shades of black. A throat cleared and Sam jumped, wheeling around to face whoever was behind him. Behind Sam, was a staircase, the white marble making up the floor, covered by plush black carpet. The grand stairs, led up to a second floor, where a man leaned against the guard-rail of the balcony that he was perched on. Sam blinked in confusion… he was looking at… himself?
"Who are you?" Sam found himself snapping. The man who wore his face smiled.
He tilted his head, mouthing Sam's words. "Who… are… you…"
The man pushed off the guard-rail and smirked, a foreign expression to Sam. The man opened and closed his mouth for a moment before grinning, a look of wonder on his face. "Hello Sam. Forgive me.. it's the first time I've ever actually spoken in a mundane language in… too long a time. Come, join me."
Sam stepped up the stairs, gripping the iron rail. The carpet was softer than feathers, confused, Sam looked down. He was bare-foot and only wore a light weight, white t-shirt and thin white sweat pants, oddly enough, a brilliant red tie was hung around his neck. His hair was perfect, not a single hair out of place. Everything was perfection.
At the top of the staircase, Sam entered what looked to be a library. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, Sam was stunned to see many he knew. Each bookcase was probably ten feet tall and five feet wide, the book themselves were categorized. Finally, color was here, the books themselves, and atop every bookcase were dozens of flowers. All of them were either red, white or the occasional black. Roses seemed to be the favorite to whoever this was. Sam turned from his drooling and examined the person. He looked identical to Sam but Sam would never wear something so expensive looking. This Sam wore a brilliant white suit, from top to bottom was stainless, perfect white. It almost burned, just looking at it.
"Who are you?" Sam again demanded.
"I am your friend." Sam spoke with that low, caring voice… from… from the pit.
"It's you I was hearing! In Hell!" Sam looked at the figure in shock.
"Ah yes. I'm glad you remember me. I apologize for scaring you." The voice was so sincere.
"Is this your house?" Sam asked, looking around.
"Indeed it is… more like a cage." Sam sneered, a sudden rattling filled the air.
"Why are you caged?" Sam sounded hesitant, taking a step back.
The other Sam huffed. "Oh relax. Id never hurt you… I was hoping we could be friends… it's been so long since I had any friends."
Sam felt a stab of pity. "Why me?"
"You were close enough for me to tap into your mind… build a connection between us. It's nice… I like having someone to talk to." Sam shrugged and walked to a plush black chair. The way he moved made Sam uneasy… the slow purposeful, confident steps, the vibrant Grace of each sweeping movement. This man's hair flowed like a gentle perfect breeze was brushing it back.
"I don't trust you… I don't know what you are or what your name is…" Sam tried to sound apologizing but he was freaked a tad bit.
"Just call me Enver. And as to what I am… I'm just an old man who was trapped in Hell. Gradually, I fell so deep that everyone forgot about me." That voice was lulling Sam into relaxing.
"Well… I don't know what you want from me… but do you have to look like me?" Sam asked startled by his own boldness.
Enver chuckled. "No but I can only become those that you have seen…"
Sam crinkled his nose, making Enver let out another soft laugh. "Don't wear my families faces…"
With a soft glow, the figure changed into Ruby. Once again, white was the only color for the short dress he/she wore. Ruby never looked this perfect.
"Aren't you a boy?" He couldn't help asking.
Enver grinned, "I'm whatever you want me to be. I am the master of this place. But for now… you must return to normal rest!"