Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been really busy with school and everything. But, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!
Chapter Five: Tick Tock
As soon as the door had closed, Dean had thrown himself against it. He reared back and slammed his shoulder into it with as much force as he could muster. Damn it! His mind was screaming at him. What the hell had just happened? He hadn't even seen it coming! That was unacceptable! He should have been paying more attention. It was his job to look out for Dani and in less than the blink of an eye, he had watched her be dragged through some door into God knows where. All of his so-called 'warrior' senses kicked into high alert, allowing him to once again hurl his body into the door and not feel even the slightest hint of pain. In his line of work, that was definitely one of the skills that had come in handy most of the time.
"Dani!" he screamed, "Dani! Hold on, I'm comin', Dani!"
Sam couldn't explain why he did it, but with every step the little girl took toward him, he lowered his gun a little bit more. She looked so small and fragile and delicate that a part of him forgot that she was dead. Without realizing what he was doing, he soon found that he had knelt down so that he could be eye level with her.
She laid her hand on his shoulder, sending a chill down to his very bones, and blinked her bleak, dead eyes at him. Sam was overwhelmed by the feeling of melancholy and pain that flooded through him along with her touch. He wanted to hold her; to offer her some of his warmth; some of his comfort; anything he could to take that sadness and pain out of her eyes. She was so young. She didn't deserve to be associated with those kinds of emotions. He wanted to help her. He wanted to make her feel like the little girl that she was supposed to be. He found himself unwittingly willing to do anything that he could to take that hurt away from her.
"Sam," she said and her voice was like an echo of half a dozen innocent cherubs, "Sam, don't let him hurt me anymore."
"Who hurt you?" Sam croaked, his mouth suddenly drier than it had ever been before in his life.
"Please." She begged in her voice laced with a children's choir.
"Who are you?" he asked, searched her pale face with his eyes.
"He's going to hurt her, too, now." She said, tilting her face downward for a moment before looking back up at him, "Go and help them, Sammy."
"Help who?" he asked her, "Who did this to you?"
The little girl gave him a sad smile, and for the first time, Sam noticed that she had three ribbons clutched in her tiny little fist. One pink, one yellow, and one blue. She put the ribbons in his hand and folded his fingers up around the silky material. Then, she raised the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to his cheek, sending another shudder running through him at the coldness of her touch. The shiver ran down his spine all the way to the tips of his toes. She shouldn't be that cold. She blinked slowly two times and smiled at him again and then her eyes darted towards the door of the bedroom. Sam followed her gaze and that was when he heard it.
"Sam!" the cry broke Sam from his trance, "Sammy! Help!"
Sam looked back toward the little girl, but she was already gone…and his flashlight was working again. He eyed the three colorful ribbons that remained in his hand, confusion etching a deep line in his brow. He heard Dean call out to him again and shoved the ribbons into his pants pocket, snapping himself out of his little daze. He sprang to his feet and went charging from the room and down the stairs; following the sound of his brother's frantic screams.
"Dean?" he called.
Dean slammed his whole body against the door once again, but the damn thing just seemed as though it was determined not to budge anytime soon. He backed up and did it again.
"Sammy, I could use a hand in here!" he bellowed.
About that time, Sam came skidding into the kitchen, trying to regain his breath. He caught sight of Dean and struggled to find his voice. "What happened?"
"Son of a bitch got Dani!" Dean spat, once again hurling himself into the unnaturally strong barrier, "She's trapped behind this door!"
"Oh, God." Sam said, examining the door with his eyes before joining his brother's side.
Together, they threw themselves into the door. It didn't even tremble beneath the blow. How the hell do you explain a strong, solid door in a house that had been rotting away and practically falling apart for the better part of a century? They slammed themselves into it again, earning themselves the smallest sign of a shiver shooting through the wood. They did is again and heard the distinct sound of cracking and splintering.
"We're coming, Dani!" Dean called.
"Hold on!" Sam added, "Just a little bit longer!"
Sam backed up to do it again, but Dean backed away and kicked the door with the flat of his foot. Sam followed his lead, kicking at the door with every muscle that his leg had to spare.
"Damn it!" Dean swore as he kicked the middle of the door again, "Open up, you damned rotten piece of shit!"
"Hold on," Sam said, grabbing Dean by the shoulder to stop him, "Together. We need to hit it at the exact same time."
"All right. All right." Dean said, both of them crouching low in identical stances, "On the count of three. One. Two. Three."
Their feet connected with the door at the same instant and the combined concentrated force caused the lock to give way with a loud 'snap'; which in turn caused the brass doorknob to fall off and sent it bouncing down what had to be the world's most frightening and narrow wooden staircase. The boys shined their lights down into the stairwell, spared the time to give each other a quick nervous glance, then started making their slow and steady way down those rickety steps.
They kept their guns shouldered and cocked the entire way down the stairs. Dean lead the way, aiming straight out ahead of him while Sam crept along behind him, his gun pointed over the side of the stair railing. Their flashlights seemed useless as the beams were more or less absorbed into the blackness, cutting through the dark and into nothing, but it was long before they were able to make out shapes and silhouettes in the room.
The stairs seemed to do on forever; the temperature lowering with every step they took. Finally, after descending for what felt like forever, Dean felt the unmistakable sensation of his boot hitting solid ground.
"Ground zero." He muttered to let Sam know that they had reached the bottom.
Sweeping their flashlights along the stoned walls of the room, it didn't take them long to figure out that this cellar was also what served as the very foundation of the house. A quick glance down revealed that the floor was made of nothing more than packed dirt. This room had been meant for storage if anything. It was the legs of the house; never intended for anyone to actually spend time in. Sam moved alongside a work table that was covered with dirty, rusted knives of all shapes and sizes. Everything from machetes to handsaws to the smallest surgical looking scalpel; it was like a one stop shop for all your torturous needs. They were all laid out nice and neatly organized on what had once upon a time been a white sheet, but it had turned dingy yellowish brown over the years and there were several dark maroon splotches scattered across it. Blood stains.
Dean had found a table as well. On it, he had discovered what appeared to be antique finger armor, a ring that covered the entire finger, and at the tip of it was a long serrated spike. He didn't even want to try and imagine what that thing had been used for. There was also a pair of forceps that had probably been razor sharp at one time, but years of neglect had let the edges dull. There was a large metal sledge hammer lying beside a heavy meat cleaver along with a pair of rusty garden shears. There were old, moldy, yellowing papers covered in elegant cursive handwriting and faded drawings of human anatomy with notes and marks in red ink, outlining the different levels of pain thresholds in different areas of the body.
Out of his peripheral vision, Dean spotted a faint light coming from around a corner. He hissed at Sam, who came immediately to his side; spotting the light as well. They crept toward it and as soon as the wall was out of the way of their line of sight, Sam had to choke back a gasp and Dean's jaw involuntarily tightened as he came into view.
Tall and lean like the way every child feared the boogeyman to be. He was such a sick pale glowing white, his features were all but indistinguishable, but one thing was clear as day to them…he didn't look even remotely like a human. And he was standing in front of Dani.
"Hey!" Dean called, drawing the attention of whatever it was, "Get the hell off of her!"
When he saw the thing start to turn, he fired a round of rock salt directly into what he assumed to be its head and it vanished from the room with a loud, high pitched shrill akin to the sound of nails sliding down a chalkboard. Dean and Sam both cringed at the noise and fought off the urge to cover their ears. When Sam's eyes fell on an oil lamp, he rushed over to it and fired it up as Dean made his way over to Dani's side. He slammed to a halt, however, once the light hit her.
"Holy shit." He breathed.
Sam turned and crossed over to them, coming to a stop as well when his eyes landed on Dani's barely conscious form. She was strapped to some kind of a plank that resembled a table that had been upended. Sam crept closer to her and upon further inspection he found that she wasn't strapped to it, but more like she was bolted to it. There were metal clamps holding her spread eagle to this tall wooden table-like board. There was a clamp over each one of her ankles, each of her wrists, her hips, another crossing her ribs, one at her neck, and one across her forehead, keeping her from being able to turn her head. The clamps were fastened so tightly that her hands had started to turn purple from lack of blood circulation. The scarf and hat that she had been wearing that might have served as a sort of padding for her were nowhere to been seen.
"Okay," Dean said, licking his lips, "we gotta get her off of this thing."
Sam nodded his head and both guys closed in on her, studying her bindings and trying to figure out how to get her out of them. Dean suddenly noticed that there was blood soaking through her shirt and he gingerly lifted the material away from her skin to reveal several small gashes that had been made in her abdomen. He muttered a curse under his breath and went back to focusing on how to get her down.
Another shrill whine resonated throughout the room, causing the boys to search their surroundings high and low for the source of the sound. Dean jerked his gun up to his shoulder and cocked it with one fluid movement.
"Sammy, you focus on getting her down." He commanded.
"Right." Sam said, more to himself than anything. He discovered a little opening that was at the edge of each of the sharp metal bindings and figured that that tiny hole was more than likely the lock. Now, he just needed to find something small enough that he could use to pick the damn things. Anywhere that she was bound by bare skin, he noticed that there was blood dripping from there as the sharp edges of the bindings bit into her flesh. His mind flashed briefly on the image of the little girl he had seen in the bedroom and the bruise-like markings that had marred her pale skin. He suppressed the need to throw up. This was what that little girl, that child, had been subjected to. Well, he wasn't going to let Dani end up like her. He was going to get her down from there and away from this damned house.
There was another high pitched squeal that echoed off the walls, sending Dean into a 360 rotation in search of the bastard.
Sam rushed over to one of the work tables; his hands fumbling over all of the tools, searching for anything that could be of use to him.
"Come on, Sam, this is a sprint, not a marathon." Dean said.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Sam retorted, his fingers closing on a small pinhead nail. He spun around triumphantly and found himself looking into a face of white decaying flesh, a long pointed nose, and teeth that looked like they had been filed into sharp points. He gasped and stumbled three steps back, his hips slamming painfully into the edge of the work table. He didn't even know how, but suddenly his face jerked violently to the side and a sharp pain ran across his cheek. He touched his face and his fingers came away with fresh blood; his blood. He looked up, eyes wide. The face sneered at him, the corners of its rotting mouth tipping upward just as a shot rang out and it burst before his eyes and disappeared.
"You all right, little brother?" Dean called, emptying his gun of its shell casings. He cast a concerned look in Sam's direction, his jaw clenching tightly as he scanned over the wound on his cheek. Now, the damn thing had mess with his baby brother. Now, Tater-tot had really pissed him off! If nothing else, you do not fuck with Sammy right in front of him! Hell no!
Sam released the air from his lungs and waved a hand to signal to Dean to let him know that he was fine; pulled himself together, and raced back over to Dani, dropping to his knees in front of her feet. Dean fished some more rack salt shells out from his pocket and reloaded his gun, all the while scanning the room for any evidence of their friend's return. A low groan escaped from Dani's throat and Dean felt his own tighten in response. She shouldn't even be here, he thought bitterly to himself. Sam looked up at her just in time to see her eyelids flutter briefly.
"It's gonna be okay, Dani." He said, turning back to his work, "We're gonna get you outta here."
With a satisfying 'click', the metal clamp that was on her right ankle snapped open. Sam gave himself a mental pat on the back before immediately setting to work on the left. Dean wasn't the only Winchester who could pick a lock. Yet another screech sounded through the air and sent a fresh wave of cringes running up and down the two boys' spines.
Dean risked a glance over his shoulder to Dani. Her breathing was labored and there was a stream of crimson blood flowing from her mouth that contrasted drastically with her fair skin. He felt rage bubbling up in the pit of his stomach and shouldered his gun again. He had told that girl that they weren't going to let anything happen to her, and by God, they were going to keep their word.
With a hollow wail, the son of a bitch appeared in front of him again. He noticed that the thing wasn't really white, but a very pale, very sickening green color. He cocked his gun and pulled the trigger; watching the rotting spirit dissipate before his eyes gave him an odd sense of pleasure. He mentally urged Sam to hurry up.
Another 'click' and the left ankle clamp snapped open. Sam was on his feet faster than his heart could beat and had started fiddling with the one at Dani's hips. He winced when he saw the same blood flow that Dean had discovered earlier along her stomach. Another few seconds and that one snapped open as well. He was either on a roll or the locks got simpler as they went higher.
"How we doin' over there, Sam?" Dean asked.
"Just a little bit longer." Sam said at the same time the clamp on her left wrist snapped open and her arm dropped limply to her side.
Another sigh escaped Dani's lips and she tried again to open her eyes. "Dean…" she breathed, barely audible. She felt so lightheaded and she wasn't altogether sure as to what that thing had done to her…but she knew that she had to tell Dean and Sam what she knew. They needed to know. She tried again to work her lips, but her tongue felt so heavy and useless in her mouth.
"It's okay, Dani." Sam said, moving to her other wrist, holding back the nausea as he saw the layers of flesh that had been peeled back from her wrist.
"Sammy…" she said in the same breathless whisper.
The spirit suddenly zoomed in at him from the other side of the table.
"Dean!" Sam cried, falling backwards.
Dean spun around and fired on reflex, repelling the damn thing again.
"Thanks." Sam said, getting back up to his feet and returning to the task at hand.
Dean emptied the shell casings again and reloaded. This was one mean ass poltergeist; perseverant too. It didn't seem like it was planning on giving up anytime in the near future and that was the second time the fugly bastard had had the nerve to go after Sam. He couldn't remember the last time he had had to shoot at a spirit this many times. Of course, said spirits had never had somebody strapped down in the middle of a freaking torture chamber either!
Another clamp opened with a 'snap' and Dani's right hand fell to her side. He started on the lock for the metal bar digging into her neck. If he could just get through these last few as quickly as possible, she would be free.
"Sam…" she rasped again.
"Shh." Sam shushed her, "Just another minute, Dani, I swear."
"But…I know…" she struggled to force the words out of her mouth, "I know…"
"You can tell me later." Sam assured her as the binding at her neck snapped open and his hands moved to the one across her forehead.
"Sam?" Dean asked, casting an impatient look over his shoulder.
"Almost there." Sam responded.
Another shrill wail reverberated around them. "Damn!" Dean groaned, "This asshole needs singing lessons!"
As if it had picked the insult up on its radar or something, the so-called asshole materialized right in front of Dean's face, letting loose a high pitched growl. Dean stumbled back a few steps as he was caught off guard, but quickly regained himself and fired. He shook the start off, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
With yet another gratifying 'click' the clamp over Dani's forehead came free, letting her head drop forward.
"Last one." Sam announced, shoving the pinhead nail into the lock of the clamp around her ribcage.
Hallelujah!" Dean exclaimed, just as 'casper the friendly ghost' popped up again and he fired another round before reloading for what felt like the millionth time.
The events going on around him began to set into Sam's mind as he realized that he was nearing the end of his task, and his hands began to tremble uncontrollably. He paused long enough to shake them out and then went back to work picking the last remaining lock.
"Wait…" Dani stammered, "I need to…I…I need…" It was hard enough for her to fight off unconsciousness without trying to actually form complete sentences. Another wave of dizziness assaulted her and her eyes closed again.
The last clamp around her ribs snapped away from her body and Dani tumbled forward, crumbling into Sam's arms. She couldn't seem to support her own weight, so Sam swept her legs up into his arms as well, cradling her against him. Now, all that was left to do was make it out of the house alive.
"Got her!" he called.
"Good," Dean replied, "Let's get the hell out of here!"
Leading the way, sweeping the gun back and forth as he went, Dean headed for the stairs. He paused at the bottom and motioned for Sam to go ahead of him, covering his brother's back as he followed him up the narrow stairway.
"No…" Dani protested from her position in Sam's arms, "Sam…no…we have to…I need to…"
"It's okay, Dani." Sam cooed, "We're almost out of here."
Sam reached the top of the stairs, crossed the kitchen, and ducked the unhinged door without even breaking stride. He did, however, screech to a halt when his eyes landed on the flowing greenish white figure blocking the front door. Dean appeared at his side just as the unhappy spirit's mouth stretched open to a great gaping hole and released a hideous moan. Dean screamed right back at it and fired, twice just for good measure and both brothers sprinted for the door. Once they hit the front porch, Sam felt the urge to look back. When he did, he spotted the little girl in the lace trimmed pink dress standing halfway down the staircase. She held up one hand and waved to him.
Sam paused and turned just slightly to her. He made her a silent promise right then and there that he would come back for her. She smiled sadly and faded away just as another high pitched howl rumbled through the house.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean called to him, "Come on!"
Sam leapt from the porch and scampered across the yard to his brother. Dean hopped the fence and draped a leg on each side, straddling the top of the fence.
"Oh," he winced, "this can't be good for the package."
He leaned down and caught hold of Dani beneath her arms; he and Sam lifted her to the top of the fence and she lay slack in Dean's arms. Sam climbed up and over the fence, landing solidly on the other side.
"Dean…" Dani said, struggling to swallow, "we need…to…go…we need to go…"
"We are going." Dean said, brushing a kiss against her hairline, then he pulled her legs to the other side of the fence and lowered her down to Sam's waiting hands. He then swung himself across as well. Once he was on the ground, he took one side and Sam took the other side of Dani. They commenced to leading her back to the car.
"No!" Dani cried, twisting away from their grasps. She tried to turn back to the mansion, but her legs failed her and dropped to her knees. It was strange. She felt stronger, but she still didn't have the strength to carry herself.
"What are you doing?" Dean exclaimed, "We gotta get you away from here."
Sam reached down to pick her up and she swatted him away. Dean rolled his eyes, a frustrated growl escaping from deep inside of his throat. He shoved his gun into Sam's hands, reached down and grabbed Dani by the arms and jerked her up. Despite her protestations, he slung her over his shoulder and started trotting for the car; Sam right behind him.
Sam leapt into the driver's seat and started the engine while Dean was laying Dani down in the backseat. When she kicked weakly at him and tried to get back out of the car, he shoved her down into the floorboard so that she was wedged in between the front and backseats. Then, he jumped into the front passenger side and Sam was backing the car up before Dean even had his door fully closed. The tires squealed as they peeled off down the road.
"Okay," Dean sighed, running his hand back through his hair, "that was fun. I think we're gonna need a plan B."
"No." Dani said from the back, spreading her palms over the leather seats and hoisting herself up out of the floor. She turned so that she was sitting in the seat properly and it dawned on her that her strength had begun to return to her more fully. The more distance they put between them and the mansion, the less weak she felt. She paused to catch her breath, "I was trying to tell you guys…"
"It's okay, Dani." Sam said, looking at her via the rearview mirror, "We'll figure something out. I have something to tell you about, man."
"What?" Dean asked.
"Oh, my God! Will you listen to me?" Dani screamed at them.
The elevation in her voice caught Sam off guard and he jumped, which caused him to slam his foot down on the brakes. All three of them were pitched forward as the car jolted to a sudden and reluctant stop. Dean and Sam shared an annoyed look before peering over the seat at her. The looks on their faces were not what she would describe as happy and she struggled to swallow the lump that had suddenly materialized in her throat. After a taking a momentary pause, she managed to pull herself together; to recompose herself if you will.
"I was trying to tell you…" she started, taking a pause and waiting for one of them to interrupt her again. When they simply remained sitting there, staring at her expectantly, she continued, "I know where Tate's bones are."
Author's Note: That's all for now. Please, don't forget to review!