ENJOY ~


This was getting overwhelmingly old. Anymore solid blows to the head & Danny might begin to think it was completely normal. What was it now? Two or three times already? YEESH.

When he woke up he was in a dungeon. Yup. A DUNGEON. Or at least some type of creepy holding cell. He couldn't tell where the exit was. He just knew there were four fairly tall solid walls. At least it was a lot better than being stuffed in the back of a car's trunk. The area was poorly lit by a single lamp on a desk in the corner of the room set in front of Danny. Faint red stains were on the lower parts of the walls, making him highly uncomfortable. It smelled kind of musty, like fat old text books with a hint of . . . burger meat? Danny also made out a strange circular sigil somewhat camouflaged with the grey floors underneath his feet, with another circle around with white powder stuff. If Danny had to guess what it was, it probably salt. Unless, of course, he was dealing with a couple of drug inducing idiots. It might've explained all the craziness that's happened to him so far. Wishful thinking though, right?

As if things couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous Danny felt like an old fashioned damsel in distress waiting for a train to run him down. He was tied to a wooden chair with handcuffs appearing to be made out of iron. Oddly enough they didn't stung his wrists like the first time, when he was tied up in ropes drenched with mysterious liquid in his ghost form.

Danny heard the loud groan of a large door being opened in front of him, & surprise, surprise followed by a bit of arguing. He heard the guys clear as day, but he didn't know what they were talking about. Danny decided he was behind two overgrown book shelves, upon noticing thin lines of light peeking through huge conjoined upper case E's, pointing in opposite directions.

"For the last time! I know what I saw. I know that I shot the thing straight in the thigh." A huff. "A flying dead person with seriously weird getup, white hair, & freakishly glowin' green eyes. That's who we were lookin' for right?"

"Okay. Then. What's with the kid? He didn't even remotely look like he was possessed. Why are we keeping him captive?"

A scoff. "We're NOT keeping him captive."

"Oh yeah?"

A pause. Then a grumble. "I don't want him callin' up the damn fuzz on our asses, if & when we decide to let him go."

"You're unbelievable. You know that?"

"Bite me."

In a tone so smug it filled the entire setting. "I think if I did that Cas would totally be jealous."

Another pause. Or possibly what some people might call speechless after an epic burn.

Danny couldn't help the amused smirk that formed on his face. He wished he had that kind of word power on people. High school would be so much easier if he knew how to shut up the annoying people in his life. Hit them where it embarasses it them. But. It wasn't really Danny's thing. Not in the least bit. His way going through hard times is to just suck it up, with a little hint of his charming wit. If karma was on his side, she would take her natural course, & he'd be just fine.

It was then the two upper case E's split. Danny's smirk ceased to exist when the two men entered the holding cell.

"Boy. You froot-loops sure know how to make a guest feel very welcome." Danny says. His friendly demeanor slowly disappears as he says then, "Do you mind telling me what you're planning to do with me? I mean that is to say before you knock me out again, & drag to who-knows-what's-it's. Better yet, WHO THE HECK ARE YOU PEOPLE?"

"We're hunters."


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