Wow, you guys rock! I've never gotten so many reviews on just the first two chapters. Well, maybe I have, I don't keep track that well. Anyways, you all are awesome. I shall reward all of you with the final chapter! Lotta hurt!Sam here, mild hurt!Dean too.
Sam awoke to a situation he felt he was far too well acquainted with. The familiar sensation of ropes against his wrist told him he was fastened the stone cold floor, it pressing up against his back. He determined that he was in some kind of shack, mostly likely the one where the woman had lost her teeth. The thought made Sam shudder; he could only pray that he didn't meet the same fate.
What scared him even more was that of his brother's state. Sam's eyes shifted about the room, but when he saw Dean, it only elevated his panic.
Dean was standing straight up, facing the corner.
Watching closely, Sam noticed Dean's fists continuously clenching and unclenching. He was fighting.
"Dean!" Sam harshly whispered.
Suspense grew and grew until finally, Dean answered back. "Sammy?"
Sam sighed in relief. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me. You alright?"
"Can't freaking move an inch, but yeah, I'm good. You?"
Sam's eyes instantly went to the ropes around his wrists and feet. "Well… I'm not hurt anyway."
Dean knew what that meant. Sam may not be hurt, but he was in trouble. "Can you get out of whatever's keeping you down?"
Sam tensed his hands, and felt a little give in the ropes. "Eventually."
"Okay, I've still got my gun, but I can't reach it. Lost the salt rifle, but real bullets might scare her off, at least for a second. See if you-" Dean was suddenly shoved further into the wall, his already injured head colliding harshly with the plaster.
Belle Gunness's ghost flickered into the room, her darkened eyes glaring at Dean. "One mustn't look before his time." Her voice was a lot like the room they were in; cold, harsh, worn out. "Your fate shall be determined after his." She raised a finger at Sam, but then instantly lowered it. "Shouldn't point fingers, shouldn't point fingers…" Over and over she repeated the litany as she approached Sam.
One thing Sam hadn't noticed, hadn't wanted to notice, was that his hands were tied at his side, but if Belle wanted, she would have easy access to his fingers. He instantly curled his hands into tight fists.
His efforts to shield his hands didn't hinder hers from trying to get at them. In life, Belle was ridiculously strong; as a ghost her strength had multiplied intensely, so she had no trouble prying one of Sam's fingers free.
Another thing that Sam had picked up on was that Belle didn't have any weapons or tools to use to remove his fingernails. He realized her intentions when she grabbed her nail in between her teeth. His on consolation was that it was over quickly.
Sam screamed as she tore off his nail, and then he cried out his brother's name. "D-Dean!" Deep down Sam knew that Dean couldn't do anything to help him right now, but just saying his name have him some kind of hope.
No matter how much hope he had, it wasn't strong enough to overcome the agony sending sparks through Sam's entire arm. He couldn't stop his every breath he panted out from sounding like a whimper.
Belle still held the nail in her mouth, and then she spat it on the ground, fleck of Sam's blood spattering the floor around it. She smiled at Sam, cocking her head sideways. "No more finger pointing from you, child."
Again, she bit down on one of his fingernails, and Sam's breath hitched as he braced himself. She wrenched her head to the side, and just like that another nail was gone. The pain had now doubled since the first time, and Sam's back arched high off the floor with another scream, only this time Belle clamped her dead hand over his mouth, muffling his cry,
"Shh." She hushed. The menace in her voice was far more apparent when it was soft, and Sam's breath picked up again underneath her hand.
Meanwhile, Dean was enduring his own torture. He was completely frozen; forced to listen to Sammy scream and call out his name, but he couldn't do a single thing to stop it. Dean wished he hadn't figured out what was making Sam scream.
At the end of the second cry, Sam's scream suddenly became muffled, and it put Dean in even more of a panic. "Sammy!"
All Dean heard in response were frightened whimpers, sounds he did not want to hear ever again from his brother. Even though Sam was his baby brother, he wasn't weak by any means, so if he was freaking whimpering in pain, it must've been really bad.
Inwardly, Dean thrashed about as hard as he could, but his body didn't even twitch. The only shot they had of getting out was if Sam managed to break free.
Only two nails down, and Sam already wanted to just give up and black out. Everything about this woman terrified him. The fact that she didn't need any kind of tool to rip out his nails would probably give him nightmares for a week.
While his right hand throbbed in pain, too much pain to be of any use, his left hurriedly worked at the ropes. He only had three fingers left before she would start in on his other hand, so he knew he had to hurry.
He was so focused on freeing himself that when another fingernail got ripped off, the shock and pain made his vision go white for a moment. When his senses went back to normal, he could hear himself screaming against her hand again.
Forget having three, well, two now really, fingers time to free himself, Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to make through one. But as much as he wanted to give up, he knew Dean was counting on him.
Using that motivation as fuel, mixed with his fear, the ropes finally snapped, and Belle didn't appear to notice.
Searching the floor for anything he could use, his eyes fell upon a rusted nail a little to his left. Praying it was made of iron, his hand carefully crept towards it. By the time he had felt his hand touch the nail, Belle had already bit down on another fingernail, but Sam stuck the, hopefully iron, nail in her eye before she had the chance to rip it out.
Iron or not, the nail did the trick. Belle released Sam's finger with a shriek, and soon after, she dissipated.
With Belle gone for the moment, Dean was finally released from her hold. He rushed over to Sam, and with great care on his right hand, he undid the ropes, and helped Sam to his feet. "You okay?" After seeing Sam's exhausted bitchface, he felt slightly embarrassed. "Bad question."
"Think you can keep her distracted? I got an idea, but I need time."
Just as Dean was about to answer, Belle reappeared and threw her arms wide apart, sending Sam and Dean flying away from one another. "Go!" Dean called to Sam as they both scrambled to their feet. Sam ran out of Dean's sightline, so it left only him and Belle now.
"Wow, no wonder the movie never showed your face." Dean remarked, hoping to keep the ghost's attention on him.
With a screech, Belle hurled Dean into the wall again, his head spinning now with the constant abuse it had been enduring. As he began to stand up, Belle closed her hand around his throat, and she shoved him against the wall again. Her icy fingers sent goose bumps over Dean's body, and she hissed at him as she leaned in close.
"You're pretty." She whispered in his ear, and then her face turned sour. "Pretty people don't deserve to smile."
Once Dean realized what she had in mind, he clenched his jaw, determined not to open it for anything. But when she began dragging him upwards by the neck, keeping his cool was becoming a lot more difficult as his air intake was completely cut off.
Belle's eyes hardened as she increased the pressure on his windpipe, and Dean's mouth opened with a gasp. Not giving him the chance to close it again, she forced her fingers into his mouth, and gripped a tooth.
As Dean braced himself for the pain, Belle suddenly threw her head back on another shout, and she vanished again. Dean coughed and gasped as oxygen was allowed back into his lungs. He felt an arm around his shoulders, and when he looked up, it was Sam who was keeping him upright.
"C'mon." Sam urged. "We gotta go before she gets back."
In a hoarse voice, Dean managed a, "But-"
"Just trust me, okay? We gotta move." Practically dragging Dean, Sam made it outside the shack, and Sam hurried back to the door. Dean watched him take out a container of salt and pour it in front of the door. "There." He said in relief.
"Wh-" Dean coughed again. "What'd you do?"
"Found some salt, put it on all the windows and other exits, so now Belle's trapped in there. We should be able to find the body without having her to worry about anymore."
Mouth slightly agape in awe, Dean congratulated him. "Good thinking there, Sammy."
Sam smiled in earnest, but on instinct he added, "It's 'Sam.'"
It took them the rest of the day, but they had finally come across what appeared to be a genuine grace marker. The ground was soft, but the Winchesters still regretted losing their shovels. They ended up using stick to unearth the grave, Sam's efforts being far slower than Dean's, having done it left handed.
Eventually, they had reached a body.
"This is the one." Sam announced.
"How you know for sure?"
Sam simply pointed at the skeleton's mouth.
Missing teeth. Dean's favourite. Drowning himself in mouthwash when they got back to the hotel was at the top of his list. He swore he could still taste the dead woman's fingers in his mouth, and he twitched involuntarily.
Sam grabbed the salt canister again, sure to keep it away from his right hand. If he got salt on his lack of nails, he just might collapse from the pain. He poured it over the corpse as Dean took out his lighter.
"Ding dong, the bitch is dead." Dean declared. And with that, he dropped the lighter onto her bones. The flames leapt to life, and both of them knew that it was over.
Okay, I seriously had a blast writing this story! Except now that it's over, I should start preparing for exams… Or I could think of a new fic to start. Yeah, there we go. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. Let me know what you thought, and until next time, carry on my wayward sons!
