WARNING: This chapter is very graphic and gory. If you are squeamish then you best prepare yourself! Consider yourself warned!

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Chapter 11

The Ritual

Dean's head throbbed with a dull ache. He could hear occasional voices talking and various noises, but couldn't make sense of them. He managed to finally open his eyes and blink them into focus. He struggled to figure out where his was at first. He saw the rows of pews in front of him and slowly realized that he was still in the church. He was kneeling on the platform in the front of the church and the top half of his body was lying over some kind of bench. He tried to sit up, but found that his arms were tied to each side of this bench. He could feel his legs were similarly tied and anchored down. He gave his bonds quick tugs in order to try to free himself.

"Ah! Dean Winchester, awake at last!" A voice said from behind him.

Dean turned slightly to see a man walk around and stand in front of him. The man was dressed in a crisp dark blue dress shirt and black slacks. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He smiled politely at Dean.

"How are you feeling, Dean?"

"Great," Dean managed to say despite the throbbing in his head. "Where's Sam and Jacob?"

"Ah, yes. See, that's what I like about you, Dean. You don't beat around the bush. You just get straight to the point! I respect that."

"Fantastic, so where are they?"

"Oh, we have them tucked away safe and sound. Your brother is in that closet over there," the man said pointing to the door that Dean had guessed earlier was a storage area. "And Jacob is in his office. He won't be disturbing us for a little while. Not time for his scene yet."

Dean felt a sense of dread building in his gut. This wasn't good. The demons had caught them completely off guard and now they were not only held captive, but were being held separately. He tried to stay calm while he talked to the demon and come up with a plan in his head.

"Alright. So then who are you?"

The man smiled broadened.

"You may call me Darius."

"So what are you going to do, Darius? I don't believe I fit into all your evening plans," Dean said casually.

Darius chuckled. "Is that so?"

Dean felt himself tense. That wasn't quite what he had expected for a response.

"Uh… yeah?"

Darius crouched down to bring himself eye-level with Dean. There was a gleam in his eye that Dean recognized. One that haunted him in his nightmares from his time in Hell. A gleam of pure evil.

"Actually, Dean, you fit into our plans quite nicely. In fact, you're presence this evening is more than we could have hoped for!"

This was bad.

"Well, then, do mind explaining it to me cuz I have no clue what you're talking about." Dean desperately fought down the panic that was threatening to take hold.

Darius stood up and began pacing in front of Dean.

"It's all rather simple, really. You obviously know about the twice hallowed ground since you are here. And I also assume you know myself and my two esteemed comrades are the damned that the lore mentions."

"I've got all that," Dean said in annoyance.

"Well, then I'm sure it is the righteous man that has you confused."

"Jacob."

At this Darius laughed. Dean felt his heart hammer in his chest.

"Ah, I'm sure that's what your little angel told you. And that is what one would think. After all, the lore does say a righteous man that resides in the church. Or… does it?"

Dean frowned. "What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"Well, the term reside is one we demons use a little loosely. For example, if you happen to be in the church when we arrive… well… we take that to mean you reside here. And for you to be here when we arrived… The Dean Winchester! And I don't need to remind you who you are, do I, Dean? The righteous man you are!"

Dean thought he was going to be sick. His mind was spinning from ache in his head and the words Darius was saying.

What the hell am I going to do? What do I do?

"So… I'm the guy in the prophecy or whatever?"

Darius clapped his hands and beamed.

"And we have a winner! Great job joining the rest of the class, Dean!"

Darius then looked up behind Dean. Dean noticed that the noises he had been hearing earlier had stopped. Darius looked back at him and grinned menacingly.

"My my my. Look at the time! Looks like the sun has set. Are we ready to begin, Dean?"

Fuck, what do I do? WHAT DO I DO!?!?!?!

Dean was too panicked to respond. He heard two people come from behind him. Two more men came into view, Darius' cronies Dean guessed. They stood next to Darius, one of them holding something behind his back and out of Dean's view.

"Dean, have you ever seen The Passion of the Christ?" Darius asked pleasantly.

What? "Nope. Haven't been to Blockbuster in awhile," Dean retorted.

Darius sighed. "Pity. An excellent movie. I particularly enjoyed the crucifixion. Do you know anything about how the Romans crucified a man, Dean?"

Dean felt himself begin to tremble.

Oh God. No. No. Dean began to suspect what the rest of the prophecy meant and what could be behind him.

"It was actually a very insulting form of punishment," Darius continued when Dean didn't answer. "Reserved for thieves and the low-lives of the day. It was actually a very common method of execution, sometimes hundreds would be crucified a day! Now, with Jesus, they began his crucifixion by beating him."

Before Dean could register what was happening Darius walked over to him and punched him in his right side. Dean let out a grunt of pain while one of the other men came over and began beating Dean on the left side. Unable to move or defend himself, Dean was forced to endure the beating. He could barely breathe as each blow pushed every ounce of air out of his lungs.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two men stopped. Darius returned to his spot in front of Dean.

"Now," He continued on as if nothing had happened and was simply giving a lecture to a class. "After the soldiers beat him he was stripped naked for what was to come next."

Dean felt the man who had been beating now cutting away his clothes with a knife. He couldn't help but to try and struggle, but to no avail. He was soon stripped of everything except his boxers.

"You son of a bitch," Dean spat in fury. "You won't get away with this!"

Darius sighed in annoyance. "Dean, now please do not interrupt me. I would like to keep you speaking."

"Fuck you!"

Darius continued on, ignoring Dean's outburst.

"The next phase was the flogging."

Darius reached out and Dean could now see what the one man had been hiding behind his back. Darius took from him a long whip with varying lengths of leather attached to the handle. At the end of each length were sharp jagged pieces of metal. Dean could only stare at the whip in horror, realizing what was going to happen.

"It is interesting," Darius continued, oblivious to Dean's panic, "To know that the Romans used the flogging as a method for determining how long a prisoner would survive on the cross."

Darius walked over to Dean, allowing the whip to drag on the platform behind him. The tinkling sound of the metal scraps reached Dean's ears. Darius looked at Dean and smiled.

"Your Bible says that Jesus received thirty-nine lashes from five people. I believe that total is one hundred and ninety-five. You are a strong young man, Dean. How many do you think you can take?"

Before Dean could answer Darius raised the whip in the air and brought it down with a quick snap across Dean's back. Dean screamed in pain as he felt the metal shards dig into his skin and then rip back out and the whip was pulled away.

"That was one, Dean."

The whip cracked across his back again, the metal ripping away his skin. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to fight against the pain. He could feel the thin streams of hot blood begin trickling down his sides and onto the floor. Again and again Darius whipped him, counting out each time the leather broke across his back.

Finally, at thirty-nine, when Dean was sure he couldn't take it much longer, Darius stopped. He passed the whip to one of the other men and then crouched down in front of Dean with a small smile.

"Well, you seem to be hanging in there quite nicely, Dean. Good job! You know, most people never survived beyond the flogging! But you aren't most people, are you?"

Dean couldn't answer him. He was too busy trying to catch his breath. His eyes were closed and tears rolled down his bruised face. Darius simply patted him on the cheek.

"Hang in there, champ! After all, there is much more fun to look forward to!"

With that, Darius stood up and gave a quick sweep of his hand. The man began flogging Dean without hesitation. Dean couldn't control the cries that escaped his throat now. He sobbed in pain and began to wonder if he would actually survive this.

After another thirty-nine lashes the man stopped. Dean buried his face into the bench, wanting to die, but unable to help but wonder if he did would he only be facing more of this if he was returned to Hell. He could now hear Sam in the closet, screaming and pounding on the door in vain, obviously due to Dean's screams.

"Come on now, Dean! You managed to survive thirty years of torture in Hell! This should be easy! Let's move on to the next round of floggings, shall we?"

"No… please…" Dean whimpered.

His please became screams again as the next man took his turn. Every nerve fiber was raw and exposed. Each crack of the whip sent pain shooting through his body. The dry air was like fire on his bloodied and raw back.

Then, right before he was sure his was going to pass out from the pain, the man reached thirty-nine lashes and stopped. Darius looked down and Dean and tapped his foot as he thought.

"Well, isn't this an interesting predicament! I'm afraid there are only three of us! Normally I would say the old man and your brother could have a go, but I doubt highly they would easily comply."

"Please…" Dean whimpered desperately, his breath hitching with the pain and sobs. "No more… please stop…"

At this Darius began laughing. He looked at Dean with fiendish glee and spoke, his tone no longer polite.

"Why, do you know who you remind me of, Dean? That little bitch of an angel of yours! Castiel! You sound just like him when that other angel whore tied him down and fucked him hard! He begged her to stop and started crying like a little bitch!"

Darius crouched down and got mere inches from Dean's bruised and bloodied face.

"But you wanna know the best part? That whore actually got him to beg for it! And you wanna know who?"

Dean looked at him, finally able to focus after hearing his angel's name.

"That whore turned into you. He didn't want to fuck the girl, but he was more than willing to get fucked by you! Begged for it when it was you!"

The demon's words slowly sunk in. It suddenly all made perfect sense. The way Castiel had treated him. His horror of seeing him with Anna. Everything.

Dean felt new strength fill him as he looked at Darius with raw hatred. He spat in the demon's face.

"Go to Hell," Dean snarled in fury.

Darius wiped his face and laughed, pleased with Dean's new vigor.

"Actually, Dean, Hell will be coming to you once all this is over!" Darius stood up and motioned for the two men. "Untie him."

The men quickly removed Dean's bonds. Instead of being able to fight, though, Dean's arms and legs felt like lead weights. They were completely useless. The men forced him to stand and Dean felt a wave of nausea as he was raised up.

Darius walked over to the pulpit and picked something up. Dean saw it was a coil of barbed wire, fashioned into some sort of crown shape. Darius brought it over to Dean.

"I crown thee, King of Man!" He exclaimed mockingly as he jammed the "crown" onto Dean's head.

Dean could barely cry out as the barbs dug into his scalp, sending rivulets of blood trickling down his face. Darius studied his handiwork with satisfaction.

"Excellent! And now, on to the final phase!"

The men swung Dean around and he could now see what the noises had been. On the platform was a large wooden cross. Dean was helpless as they dragged him over to it, knowing what his fate was going to be. They stood him on a box and shoved his back against the wooden post. He whimpered in pain as his raw flesh met the roughened wood. The men took each arm and began tying them on the cross beam.

"Now, since you won't be with us for the grand finale, let me explain it to you as my friends prepare you. Once you are dead we will be using you blood as our sacrament. Once it receives our own blessings, naturally. With that the seal will be broken!"

Dean could only look at the men as they finished securing him to the post. He knew that this was it. There was no way he could survive this. He could still hear Sam's muffled cries and pounding on the closet door. Even if Sam escaped it would be too late. Dean could feel his life slowly ebb away as the blood trickled down his bare legs. He saw one of the men pick up a hammer and long metal spike.

This was it.

He was going to die.

His mind suddenly went to Castiel. His angel. The one he loved with every fiber of his being. He closed his eyes and began to pray. He prayed that Castiel would forgive him. Would forgive him for all the stupid things he had ever said to him. For all the stupid things he had done. All he wanted was to see him. Just one last time.

The man placed the metal spike against Dean's hand and raised the hammer to swing.

"CASTIEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

To be continued…..