Thanks to all who have reviewed and favourited so far. You guys make my day. A shout out to Alyssa Ray for aiding me with this chapter.
Dean's POV
My head was killing me, as if I had been bludgeoned by a heavy baseball bat. I can sense blood oozing down my forehead, my wrists and ankles in equal amounts of discomfort. Then I realize something, I'm tied up against an cage, my limbs strained due to friction given off by thick industrial rope. Awesome.
"What the hell?" I gasped, attempting to free myself from the ropes with futile tugs and pulls. Oh Shit! I gazed around more as I regained my senses before calling out. "Chris? Chrissie!"
Where was my little sister? What the hell was going on? Bones and blood decorated the walls, the stench of rotting meat drifted around in the air. I wanted to hurl cos the stink was so bad. The wind howled outside as I could hear the creaking of footsteps against the ancient floor boards. I tried the ropes again but they wouldn't budge. Where was my little sister?
Suddenly I encountered by far the ugliest hag I have ever seen. She slowly hobbled over towards me, her hair hanging like dripping seaweed and her nose resembled that of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. Her amber eyes wandered each area of my face and body. Oh God, it appeared that I was being eye-fucked by the old hag, who had tilted her head at me in curiosity. Okay, now I'm gonna hurl.
"Where is my sister you old bag?" I demanded, swallowing down a wave of nausea.
The hag said nothing and continued to inch closer and closer towards me, a sadistic smirk exposing her iron teeth. She produced a rusty blade from the folds of her inky black cloak as a chuckle escaped her lips.
"I asked you a question bitch! Where. Is. My. Sister?" I yelled, pulling at my restraints in frustration. Nothing better happen to her, you hear me?"
A boney hand race across my face, almost tickling me under the chin as if I was some toddler. If she got any closer I would've bit her. The end of the blade poised itself at the location of my heart.
"Look, you can do what you want with me," I said in frustration. "But you gotta let me see my sister?"
The tarnished tip of the once silver blade suddenly ripped down my chest, tearing at my t-shirt and drawing blood. Holding back a wince, I continued to glare at the hag in front of me.
"Your sister's dead" announced the crone with a wheezy laugh, showing off her iron teeth.
I blinked, shock overcoming my body. No, she couldn't be Dean I told myself. I would feel it, in my soul.
"Liar!" I growled, curling my hands into tight fists "Where the hell is she, bitch? What the hell did you do to her? I know she's not dead!"
A million thoughts were going through my head, I refused to believe that Chrissie was dead. She couldn't be. She wasn't. It was a lie, it had to be. Pausing with the knife, the old hag then produced something from her cloak. A bloody Pokemon card, almost ripped in half. No. That was Chrissie's favorite card, she spent months trying to find it and when she eventually got it she was so happy. The pit in my stomach grew.
"Where did you get that?" I barked, my clenched fists trembled with rage and frustration.
"From your sister's corpse" answered the crone, tossing the card onto the floor and stamping on it with her hobnailed boot.
The card now lay on the floorboards, torn in two, drops of crimson blood staining the illustration. I blinked down at it in disbelief. No. The bitch was lying.
"My sister is not dead! Lemme go!" I shouted, continuing to struggle as the knife resumed carving lines into my chest.
Thoughts of my baby sister played out in my mind like a film reel. The way she wrinkles her nose when she's confused always made me smile as she looks like a rabbit when she does so. Her eyes light up whenever she smiles and even when she is sad, the spark in her eyes is still there. The kid has always had a weird and sarcastic sense of humor, and used to say the strangest things when she was a little girl.
God I love that kid. What would I going do without her? No! I was letting my guard down, I couldn't do that. Chrissie was still alive, she had to be.
"She's rotting like some slab of meat in the cellar," smirked the old bitch, pressing down on the knife, applying more pressure. ""I might toss some of her limbs to the wolves"
My gaze fell upon the destroyed Pokemon card once again. No. It's not true. She's not dead. Doubt began to plague my mind. She was dead. Her body was somewhere within this cabin, and I didn't know where, which was worse. Anger coursed through my veins as I tried to get rid of the negative thoughts out of my head.
"Chrissie" I whispered, my chest burning with pain both on the outside and inside.
The old bitch paused again, smirking and letting out a chuckle. She licked the blood from the blade with her gray tongue. Afterwards she glanced up at me.
"She was in the very same position as you are in now," said the hag with a sadistic grin, dragging the knife down my chest again. "Tied up and helpless. Crying and screaming for you, your father and brother if I recall. She even wept for your dead mother, the one she never knew. Poor little thing was inconsolable."
The pit in my stomach was now like a black hole, sucking everything happy and good away from me. My throat threatened to close up as the lump bloated like a golf ball.
"What?" I exclaimed, my voice almost cracking. "What did you do to her? She's just a kid for Christ sake!"
My baby sister was gone, I failed her. She had been brutally murdered at the hands of this bitch. I was gonna gut this old crone like a damn fish! Denial settled amongst my shock and disbelief. Deep down, I knew she wasn't dead. She couldn't be. God wouldn't do that to me, or maybe he would because he is so damn cruel.
"I peeled her skin off in layers, such anger sorrow for such a pretty little thing," added the hag, carving into my flesh. "Even her heart tasted sour. The rest of her organs I devoured without a thought"
I felt myself go white, nausea washed over me. That cannibalistic, vicious old whore! I was gonna have her head for this!
"You bitch! When I get up so God help me, I will end you!" I roared, my voice going raw with emotion. "Do you hear me? END you!"
All I could think about was the pain and agony Chrissie had endured. She had been scared, and alone. She had always hated being alone. The horrible images of my baby sister being tortured was eating away in my brain like a cancer. I tried to battle against them, my only way was to think back through time. As the saying goes, think of happy thoughts, which is what I tried to do.
I was twelve years old when Chris was born. I remember standing over her crib when she was about five days old, just staring at her.
She simply lay there in her tiny apple green sleeping suit, on her back and head to one side. Her hands were tightly closed, thumbs tucked under her fingers.
She looked peaceful, and yet completely helpless. Apparently she had been born with a head full of hair according to Mom and Dad, a tuft of brown hair rested on her newborn head.
That was the one memory I kept replaying in my head as the old bitch continued to slice at me with her knife. Two voices yelled in my head as I tried to hold onto the memory. One screamed 'she's dead. she died on your watch!' while the other said 'No! You would feel it if she was dead and she isn't! You gotta find her!' To be honest I was having a hard time trying to ignore them as the situation was driving me literally insane. I even ignored the blood that was running down my chest.
"I am Baba Yaga," said the crone, grinning with her iron teeth. "Believe me my boy, your sister is dead."
I shook my head. No. Bitch your wrong. My sister is stronger than you think, I should know since I've basically raised her. The blood stuck to my t-shirt, making it sting but I don't care. All I care about is knowing that my baby is alive.
Baba Yaga brought the blade away from my chest for a moment. She smirked and let out a cackle. The knife dragged down my chest again before stabbing my right thigh with a sudden and swift movement. A pained roar ripped out my throat, tears of anger and pain filled my eyes. The knife was twisted violently, causing me to scream again. Blood poured out as the flesh of my thigh was pierced. Gasping for breathe, my head flopped forward as sweat dripped off my bruised forehead. After yanking the knife out my leg, the deformed bitch went back to carving lines into my chest.
Oh God, Chrissie, I'm so sorry. I've screwed up again, and if I hadn't taken the scenic route then none of this shit would've happened. Wherever she was, I was gonna find her. My eyes fell on the Pokemon card again, which caused several tears to fall down my face. Chrissie, my Chrissie.
Dammit, I couldn't break down. Deep down I knew, my little girl was still alive. Suddenly, a high pitched scream filled the bone decorated cabin.
Don't throw tomatoes at me for ending this chapter on a cliffhanger. Ignore the box of tomatoes, walk away from the box!
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