The demon let out such a heart-wrenching scream that it could make any other person feel sorry for him. Any other person. But this was Dean Winchester. And as he sliced and diced into him as if he was an artist before a brand new canvas, he hummed Metallica's Sad but True. The demon's name was Larry and Dean found it strangely amusing.
"Larry the Demon. I swear, this sounds like a slapstick comedy movie."
They were in an abandoned storage room just outside Milwaukee where nobody was going to bother them. Larry was hung on two meat hooks that went through his shoulder blades. It reminded Dean of Hell and if before he suppressed that memory because of the torture he had endured while there, he was now feeling almost nostalgic for the days after he had said '''yes' to Alastair. He had even admitted it to Sam. The pleasure of torturing another soul. No boundaries that could not be crossed down there. Hell had given him the freedom that he'd always craved. Hell was pure.
At least until Crowley came in charge and turned it into a freaking business corporation. Meat suits were clients now and demons had to comply with their every whim or the big bad boss was going to punish them. But what else is to expect from a mere tailor who sold his soul for three extra inches under the waist. He had been a joke then and he was a joke now , not even aware of the fact that most of his "employees" feared him but didn't respect him. Crowley was weak. Dean was not. It was that simple.
"Y-you don't know what he'll d—do to me If I talk", Larry whimpered and Dean found it pathetic. No demon should whimper no matter how week it was. He smiled and raised the blade before him, slowly licking the blood from it.
" Do you know what I'll do to you if you don't?"
"Maybe you should leave him to me for a while. See If I can loosen his tongue. I'm bored anyway", there were thousands of implications behind Abaddon's tone and no doubt that she meant the worst of them all. Abaddon herself was sitting in an old, moth-eaten armchair which had clearly seen better days, with her left leg over the right one, and studying her nails when she spoke. When she looked up into Larry's eyes, he felt all the hairs on his body standing up.
Dean glanced at Abaddon and back to the demon. He was having fun.
"What do you say then, Larry.", he asked his victim whose eye were wide with horror, "Maybe I should let Abby here make herself a necklace from your intestines."
Abaddon had fire in her eyes when she looked at Dean.
"I told you that I hate nicknames."
Dean put the machete down on the rusty table behind him and put black gloves on as he took a little bottle filled with colorless liquid inside it. He then got a dirty cloth and soaked it with it.
"Oh, come on, red. I know you like it", he taunted as he turned his attention back to his victim, "Now be a good boy and open wide".
Dean grabbed Larry's mouth and forced it open stuffing the cloth inside and covering it with his hand so that the demon could not spit it out. A hissing sound followed by muffled screams.
Sulfuric acid is not the most pleasant thing to have in one's mouth. It tends to cause a rather fair amount of pain when it eats through the flesh.
"Oh, I like it, do I?" , Abaddon got up and slowly approached Dean as the demon meanwhile squirmed, foam coming out if his mouth.
She smiled as she stood behind Dean, whispering in his ear.
"You know what else I like?", she purred, touching softly his earlobe with the tip of her tongue.
"Mhmm.", Dean couldn't decide what he enjoyed more- torturing his new pet or the effect that Abaddon's actions were having on certain parts of his body.
"I like information", her voice was sharp and he felt a sudden sting as her teeth pierced through the skin of his ear and a trickle of blood ran down his neck.
"And we have exactly jack squat right now! So quit screwing around and…"
Dean removed his hand from Larry's mouth, who was left coughing his own throat out, and turned around, wrapping his fingers around both of Abaddon's wrists, pulling her towards him.
"'If you're not having fun, I saw a tree cutter somewhere around here.", his said with a shit-eating grin. She wasn't having any of it.
"The only thing he told us is that there is a divide amongst Crowley's little minions. He's a low-rank demon, probably not even in direct contact with him. So he's worthless and we're just wasting time."
"Oh, we are getting information one way or the other. But we need to send a message as well. A message that states, "If you're not with us, you're against us". By the time I'm finished with him, the message will be pretty clear." His eyes turned black and he smirked. "Wanna help with that?"
Abaddon looked at him and showed a set of white teeth which were ready to rip flesh apart, her own eyes turning to black chasms. She leaned closer and bit his bottom lip playfully.
"Oh yeah."