Woo-Hoo! I'm back with chapter two.
To The Reviewers:
Midnight's Falling Star: The hillbilly's talking is very annoying I know ;) But on the upper hand, Sam hates it just as much as you do (and so do I). But it goes well with the whole rustic mountain thing... so I hope it doesn't bother you too much :). I love hurt Sam too... thanks for your review!
FireZombie: I'm glad you liked the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this one too, thanks for reviewing.
LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie: Hopefully this chappie will grab your attention as well.
Wolf-of-Insanity: Blushes, I'm glad you enjoy my writing style, and I hope you keep enjoying the story.
tvdinnersrule: Glad you liked it, thanks for the review.
friendly: Never fear, chapter two is here!
Thanks to all that read the first chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it and I hope you will continue to enjoy it.
Authoress Notes: Dean is actually in this chapter, yay!. Sam does get a little roughed up, so be aware of that, hillbilly's can be brutal. And yes, the hillbilly's grammar is still really horrible, and is going to remain so... so grit your teeth and read on!
But Enjoy Chapter Two:
Chapter Two
Sam's heart dropped sharply into his stomach as he stared wide eyed at the two hillbillies' from hell. He could feel his mouth part, his brain trying to let the rest of him know he needed oxygen to live.
"Let me get a good look at 'im," Vernin ordered. The man walked forward and looked with an amused eyebrow at their new pet. "He sure is skinny Bud."
Bud chuckled, little blots of spittle spraying from his mouth and landing on Sam. "Yeah I know, but he'll be fun anyhow."
It was then that Sam made his move. Bud had let his guard down along with his gun and he ran out the door, heading towards the darkening forest hands bound and all. He could barely hear the familiar voices yelling curses and orders as he made his way through the thick mass of green. And although his exhaustion was bearing down on him, he kept one foot in front of the other.
"Get back 'ere ya fool!"
"Yer gonna regret that boy!"
Sam breathed hard, his heart thundered and panic filled him as he realized the angry voices were getting closer. "Shit shit shit," he cursed when he realized he was going to be caught again.
The training that had been instilled in his head and he began to zigzag in hopes of throwing the psychopaths that wanted to use him as a plaything, off his trail.
"We're comin' for ya boy!" the voice rang out in the growing darkness.
The young man became desperate, he'd deftly underestimated these men's hunting skills and now it might cost him his life. He knew he was slowing down, his fatigue and blood loss from his little endeavor the night before being the cause.
"Oh god," he gasped out as he tumbled to the ground, clumsily tripping over a tree root and face planting. Soon enough, rustling from the leaves behind the young Winchester alerted the young man to the savages' arrival.
"There ya are ya little rascal," Vernin greeted as flipped Sam onto his back and stared down at him with a sickening smile covering his deranged face. "Where'd ya think you were goin'?"
Sam remained silent and stared up at the man who was now also holding a shotgun in his overly fat hands.
Vernin frowned in displeasure. "I asked you a question boy."
Again Sam remained stoic and said nothing.
"Fine boy, you don't wanna talk then I'll make sure you can't talk." With that promise, Vernin reared back his left foot and abruptly kicked outwards, catching Sam in the jaw.
A scream tore loose from Sam's mouth and his head snapped back with the force. Sam felt more than heard the incredibly loud cracking of the bone on his face. Blood immediately began to pour into his mouth and clogged is throat so he couldn't breathe.
The young Winchester's vision darkened rapidly but cleared when something strong latched onto his arm and flipped him onto his belly.
Sam opened his mouth as far as possible and let his saliva and blood dribble onto the soiled ground. His moaning was constant; the pain emanating from his jaw overloaded his senses and made his stomach turn.
"That'll teach ya," Vernin spat down at him. "You think yer the first one to run away from us? Well you ain't!"
"Vernin?" Bud's voice called out. "Did ya find 'im?"
"I've got 'im," the other man informed his friend.
There was more rustling from behind Sam and Vernin. Bud popped into the open space and glared down at the flat down position Sam was in.
"I oughta kill ya now boy," Bud growled and kicked Sam in the side. He watched in satisfaction as Sam jerked from the impact and began coughing.
"What's wrong wid him?"
Vernin smiled knowingly. "He wouldn't tell me why he ran, so now he can't tell us why he ran."
Bud raised an eyebrow and turned Sam onto his side. He studied the boy's bloodied face and knew from the swelling on his lower jaw, that the bone was broken. "At least we won't have to hear him scream like a girl," he acknowledged.
Vernin chuckled at the approval, making his pudgy belly jiggle.
"Let's get back before it's to damn dark ta see anythin' out ere," Bud ordered and turned back into the green foliage.
Sam's consciousness was wavering, his head pounding so hard he couldn't hear the men's conversation. All he could care about at the moment anyway was pulling oxygen through his damaged jaw. Vernin's kick was accurate, amazingly Sam could still breathe and he knew Vernin had done that before.
"Come on kid, let's get a move on." Vernin grabbed Sam's collar and began dragging him across the rough terrain, completely ignorant to the rocks and twigs that gouged out some of the young man's supple skin.
"I don't enjoy chasin' after ya, so if you ever do that again, I'll be breaking your legs," Vernin warned Sam.
Time passed in what felt like hours for Sam, his jaw burned so badly that he wished for unconsciousness for a short reprieve from his pain. Blood still slithered down the side of his face and dripped onto his shirt. He couldn't open his mouth far, barely big enough for him to suck oxygen through his teeth.
He really wanted his big brother to jump out of the bushes, yell 'surprise', and blow his pal Vernin's brains through the back of his head. But it looked like the fates wanted Sam to suffer.
"Home sweet home," Sam heard Vernin chime in. The young man opened his eyes to look up at the rickety cabin he'd run away from and swallowed down his dread.
Sam thought, or better hoped Vernin had the decency to pull him to his feet so he could walk up the steps, but to no avail. Vernin walked up the steps, dragging Sam up them with no second thought to hurting his 'pet' whatsoever.
Vernin dropped Sam's upper half onto the floor when he'd been dragged into the middle of the room. The older man tsked down at him. "Have ya learned yer lesson boy?"
Sam was in too much pain to move, his mind not comprehending what his captor had just asked him. Sam just coughed and let the blood that was pooled in his mouth to splatter out, covering more of his dirty shirt and jeans.
"That's disgustin'," Bud yelled as he regarded his prey with repulsion. He had enough pity to find his new house guest a towel that hadn't been washed in god knows when, dipped in cool water and kneeled down to press against the material against the boy's face. "If ya hadn't 'ave run than none-a-this woulda happened."
Sam sighed softly as the cool cloth helped sooth some of his jaw's ache. His muddled mind sent his eyes to stare around the room that was now alight with candles. Minutes passed and his mind refused to put a lucid thought to form, and the sharp pains were back.
He thanked god silently as his vision and thought ascended into the shadows, and his brother's name died on his lips as he sank into the dark reprieve.
Dean jerked into awareness with the strangest sound shooting into his ears and making is head pound fiercely.
Eyelids slid open to stare up at the bright sun overhead. Previous memories swarmed his throbbing head and had him sitting up rapidly. "Sam?" he called his brothers name, although slurring it horribly.
The older Winchester searched the area around him from his sitting position. He knew his limits, also knowing that his stomach would greatly protest to him moving at the moment. And he warily lifted his hand to touch the dried blood that clotted together the cut on his forehead.
"Wood nymph?" Dean snorted in disgust.
"No…" Sam began. "Yudi's."
Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh," Dean snorted. "I'm sorry, Yudi's."
"Don't be an asshole."
Dean frowned in fake hurt. "Do you know how to get rid of one of those? Because I don't and it's not in dad's journal."
"I know," Sam conceded.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that we 'wing-it'?"
"You got a better idea?"
Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Guess not.
"I've heard that these things are like Sirens," Sam explained.
"Great," Dean replied sarcastically.
"These things have taken out half a dozen people this year Dean."
Dean sighed in defeat. "Alrighty then. What's the plan?"
"Well, they dwell in caves, under trees, and in water…"
"How the hell are we gonna find them in this huge ass forest Sammy?"
Sam glared at his brother. "These people went missing in specific places. So I figured we'd start looking at a little ridge called, 'Percorso Del Diavolo, where the latest victim was found."
"Sounds like fun."
Dean remembered his teasing from the start. Despite the elder's pain, he rolled onto his knees and stood up very slowly.
"Sammy?" he called out. He remembered telling his brother to run when the ugly ass Yudi decided to play a little game of 'cat and mouse', with the brothers. The Yudi managed to send them further apart from each other by mimicking their own voices to lure them in opposite directions.
The last thing Dean remembered was hearing Sam call for help and then being pushed face first into a tree. Now, his little brother was missing and his temper was rising to amazingly hefty heights.
"Sam can you hear me?" Dean yelled again. He staggered forward, entering the myriad of trees and listened with skilled ears incase he missed his brother's voice.
"Dammit Sam! Answer me!" He screamed.
Panic was rising in his chest as his search for his younger brother ended nowhere. If his father could see him now… Dean shook his head. There dad wasn't here, so there wouldn't be an angry glare and disappointment shining from his eyes.
"Where are you Sammy?" he whispered with a cracked voice.
TBC... Tell me what you thought!