CHAPTER 4 – A WEAPON OF MASS EXTINCTION
Castiel enters the abandoned Biker bar, failing to stumble into Chamsael and his crew for barely a few seconds. He sees Shadowhunters and Downworlders slowly crawling towards the bar, while the Winchesters barely lean on the dirty walls. The inert body of Magnus Bane lies near the silent jukebox, filled with burns and with his expensive suit torn to shreds. The fallen seraph walks towards his long-time human friends.
"What happened here?"
"What does it look like to you?" Dean complains. "We just got our asses kicked by some demon, and he took the hot Nephilim brunette. You came late to the party."
"Where were you, Cass?" Sam asks.
"I was with some battle brothers in Heaven, trying to figure out what all this we've seen is about. We must move fast."
"Well, I wish you good luck with that," Dean shows him the rest of the wounded. "If those wings of yours don't grow back..."
Castiel ignores Dean and walks near a convalescent Clary. The redhead, still sitting on the floor, leans against the bar and smiles when she sees the angel. Castiel kneels near her.
"Castiel..."
"We don't have time to waste," Castiel says. "Tell me, which one of you has more proficiency with the opening of portals?"
"Him," Clary breathes heavily, pointing the fallen warlock with her finger. "Magnus can get us out of here..."
"All right."
Castiel stands up and walks towards the fallen Magnus Bane. He stands near him and touches the warlock's head with his bare hand. A light comes out from its palm and engulfs them both.
"Magnus," Alec lets some tears come out.
The light dissipates, showing Magnus' body in perfect state, with burn marks no longer present. The warlock opens his eyes and quickly stands up, removing the dust all over him. He touches all his exposed skin areas and acknowledges the absence of any wound.
"Thank you," he calmly says. "I don't believe we've met..."
"There is no time for that," Castiel abruptly interrupts him. "I need you to open a portal towards the Institute."
Magnus looks at Clary, already on her feet and leaning against the bar. The redhead Nephilim nods. He does the same.
"Right," Magnus starts weaving his hands. "The Institute it is, then."
"All those who can walk help the others!" Castiel shouts. "We're leaving this place now!"
An enormous portal emanates from Magnus' hands, with its center showing brief glimpses of the Institute's lobby. Dean carries Alec on his shoulders while Castiel and Sam do the same with Jace and Simon, respectively. Clary helps Garroway up.
"Go ahead, gentlemen."
The whole team walks through the abyssal dark circle, feeling how it swiftly closes behind their backs.
NYPD Central Morgue, New York, 3:00 A.M.
The autopsy technician working the night shift faints upon seeing four beings appear out of thin air. The image of those strange yellow and purple eyes staring at him will stay forever in his memories. He asks himself many questions before going into a trance. Who are they? What are they? Is this real? Is it some stupid nightmare? Am I going mad?
"Oh, it's all real," Chamsael loudly answers his thought questions.
The four creatures are as real as the fact that one of them is there against her will. The stainless steel cuffs filled with carved runes holding Isabelle's wrists together behind her back confirm it. Her struggling ratifies it. Her facial expression reasserts it.
"I'm telling you," Isabelle taunts her captors. "You've got the wrong Nephilim. I'm not special at all. What could I possibly offer you?"
"Nick," Chamsael looks at Isabelle in a threatening way. "Take care of that noisy lady, would you?"
"As you wish..."
Nick slowly walks towards Isabelle, receiving clumsy kicks and head-butts from her as an approaching gift. The vampire grabs the handcuffed Nephilim's neck and pushes her fine and voluptuous body against the wall. He shows her his enormous drooling fangs. Her pupils dilate. No...
"Don't be afraid, girl," Nick whispers. "I know you want it as much as I do."
The gray-eyed vampire bites the abstinent Nephilim's neck, slowly exchanging his poison with her celestially graced blood. Isabelle's anger soothes itself little by little. Both feel immeasurable pleasure and relief, getting lost in the process. Chamsael looks at them with tenderness.
"How cute."
"Right," Beatrice stares at the scene with disgust. "What's our next step?"
"Our next step is creating a distraction," Chamsael answers. "I will need your help with that."
"My help...?"
The fearsome demon interrupts Beatrice's questions by using his telekinesis, opening one of the corpse drawers. The exposed dead girl looks familiar to her. Her blond hair, small eyes and heartless hole are unmistakable.
"I'm gonna' need some of your blood, child," Chamsael calmly says.
Beatrice strongly bites her left wrist and lets her blood fall on the dead girl's forehead. After an acceptable amount, Chamsael swiftly cures the werewolf's self-inflicted wound and performs a strange ritual on the lifeless body. He pronounces barely understandable words for five minutes. Only the final term can be understood by his subordinates.
"RISE!"
The corpse's eyes swiftly open, showing a pair of extremely pale ocular globes devoid of irises or pupils. She rapidly sits on the cold aluminum stretcher and then slowly lands her bare feet on the morgue's floor. She immediately charges against Beatrice. Chamsael stops her using his telekinesis.
"Easy, girl," he smiles. "It's not her you must harm."
The lifeless girl tries fighting the demon's invisible restrictions, seemingly causing him no harm or struggle. He keeps his arm straight and his fingers pointed at her. A black smoke starts emanating from his vessel's fingernails and enters the girl's nasal cavities. She immediately stops moving.
"Good," the demon delightfully whispers. "Feel my essence. Embrace my darkness."
The lifeless girl shuts her eyelids for a few seconds, then opens them. Her ocular globes turn pitch black. She turns towards Chamsael and kneels, followed by Nick and Beatrice. Isabelle struggles with the dizziness induced by the vampire venom.
"Go, my dear Cassidy!" Chamsael shouts. "GIVE THEM SOME HELL!"
The re-animated Cassidy Blossom emits a screeching roar before being warped out.
Shadowhunter Institute, Manhattan, New York, 3:30 A.M.
Sam emits his signature eye rolls and weary sighs at Dean while he watches him play with the strategy room's holographic interface. He repeatedly turns it on and off, and occasionally touches the tip of the Empire State building, distorting the digitally rendered image of New York City. Castiel ignores him and remains seated in one of the black chairs surrounding the large table at the center.
A recovered Shadowhunter group enters the room, followed by Simon, Magnus Bane and a bare-chested and bandaged Garroway. Dean swiftly walks away from the holographic interface. Sam raises his brows and looks away.
"How do you feel?" Castiel stands up.
"We'll live," Jace grabs his left ribcage. "We took hell of a beating back there."
"You guys seem fine, though," Alec turns the holographic interface off, showing some annoyance. "You sure you're human?"
"Oh, believe me, we've had worse," Dean brags. "That demon hits like Jace."
Jace and Sam raise their brows, roll their eyes and emit a weary sigh at the same time. They see Garroway sitting on one of the chairs with difficulty. Clary and Simon walk towards him.
"Luke, are you all right?"
"Like Dean here said," Garroway smiles at an annoyed Jace. "That was nothing. I'll live."
Clary and Simon smile back at the detective. Their body languages shows the Winchesters the unbreakable and lasting bond between the three. The following hug shows them as one strongly united family, despite the diversity of races. Wow, they sure are close, Sam thinks.
"We haven't got much time," Castiel breaks the moment. "Things have gotten really out of hand."
"What do you mean?" Sam stands up.
"Chamsael's plan," Castiel answers. "We need to stop it."
"What do you know about it, Castiel?" Alec asks. "What does he want with my sister? Why did he take her?"
"Tell me something," Castiel slowly walks towards the worried Shadowhunter leader. "Does your sister have any demonic ancestors?"
"No..."
"Has she made any demonic deals?"
"No!"
"Sexual intercourse with demons or any other dark creature?"
"Hell no!" Alec loses his temper. "Damn!"
"She dated a Seelie once," Clary meddles in. "Does that count?"
"Seelies are civilized fairies," Magnus intervenes. "They might be considered Downworlders, but their essences contain mostly light. Pure darkness is not an attribute they can boast about, so that would be a no."
"Alec, her addiction," Sam whispers.
"Yin Fen," Alec remembers. "My sister is addicted to vampire blood!"
"That explains why Chamsael is interested in her," Castiel asserts. "The corruption of her grace... It all makes sense."
"Cass," Dean loses his patience. "What the hell are you talking about!?"
Castiel ignores Dean's exasperation and starts walking in circles, muttering senseless and incomprehensible words to anyone around him. Winchesters, Shadowhunters and Downworlders round the fallen angel. Everyone expects an answer.
"He's got almost everything..."
"Everything?" Sam asks. "Everything for what?"
"The blood of a demon imbued in angelic grace, the heart of a human virgin in the age of procreation and the grace of a corrupted Nephilim. He's only lacking an object belonging to an extremely evil creature..."
"Or not," Jace interrupts him, showing a webpage on his cellphone. "I think he got that too."
The Nephilim hands his cellphone over to Dean, who watches the screen closely. Sam and Castiel join him, observing the picture of a big shield with episcopal insignias carved on it. The object's description defines its origin. The webpage shows its whereabouts.
"The shield of Gilles Velmare," Sam reads out loud. "Inquisitor and Witch Hunter."
"That's the object those G.I. demons were carrying out of the museum," Jace asserts. "I saw the insignias right before they walked out of the exhibit."
"According to this, Gilles Velmare was a member of the Holy Inquisition," Sam summarizes. "The High Bishops exclusively assigned him the task of hunting young women who, and I quote, "favored and pursued the ways of Satan". Apparently, he took much delight in the interrogation and torture sessions, even denying highly provable innocence in order to feed his desires. He seems to be responsible for the deaths of about 400 women."
"Quite the model citizen, huh?" Dean smiles.
"So, he's got all the objects," Castiel sighs.
"What are we dealing with, Castiel?" Jace asks. "What could possibly worry an angel so much?"
All the present creatures set their eyes on the fallen angel. His words feed their instincts, telling them something big and bad is going on. Their hearts beat strongly. An overwhelming curiosity invades them.
"Chamsael is putting together a divine weapon," Castiel explains. "The ingredients he rounded up match the ones necessary to build The Shield of Despair."
"Shield of Despair?" Magnus interrogatively repeats.
"Just after Lucifer managed to corrupt the humans at the Garden of Eden, God remembered his failure with the Leviathans. He was afraid angel and man would become as destructive and voracious as his first beasts, so he thought about a countermeasure that would cause their immediate and massive destruction, if the situation demanded it."
"And that shield is the countermeasure," Sam concludes.
"It is a weapon designed to destroy the essence of every angel, human, or any other creature with a soul made of light," Castiel continues. "It uses the same principle as the Soul Sword that was activated here, acting as its countermeasure."
"As the Sword ends the Darkness..." Jace starts reciting.
"The Shield shall end the Light," Clary finishes his sentence. "Oh my God..."
"No matter where it is used, no matter how far we are, it could end our very existences in a matter of seconds," Castiel asserts. "We must stop him before it's too late."
An uncontrollable mass murmur swiftly takes control of the strategy room. Both Winchesters and Shadowhunters start irremediably worrying about Castiel's discovery. Speculation and swift conclusions fly around.
"That's what he meant, when he told us to enjoy what was left of our lives," Clary says. "They were planning this from the very beginning."
"But why do Nick and Beatrice help him?" Garroway asks. "Aren't they gonna' get fried too if that thing is activated?"
"Downworlders and demons have traces of darkness in their souls," Castiel asserts. "You should be immune to its effects, as well as Magnus and Simon here. The rest of us would be, well, screwed."
"I hadn't heard Cass swear in a long time," Sam mutters.
"He must be really on edge," Dean mutters back.
"You say it's a divine weapon," Clary remembers. "How does a demon like Chamsael...?"
"Lucifer," Castiel interrupts her. "He must have given him the formula."
"Lucifer?" Simon repeats in shock. "As in, the Devil?"
"Yes."
"By the way," Jace sits next to Garroway. "What happens if the shield is activated? What are its effects?"
"According to what I saw and heard in Heaven, it should feel like if your soul burns and tears itself to shreds from the inside. Whatever that means, it must not be pleasant."
"Well, no one's felt anything, right?" Jace addresses everyone. "It's a good sign."
"No, it's not," Castiel denies his claim. "Chamsael needs great amounts of demonic energy to activate the shield, and he must be scouring the Earth looking for a source. His plan is merely delayed."
"Well, that should give us some time," Dean calmly says, gathering everyone's attention. "We must kill that son of a bitch before he activates that shield."
"Right," Sam supports him. "I'm gonna' check the lore, see if..."
"No need," Dean interrupts him. "We use The Colt."
"You think?"
"That gun offs anything," Dean confidently brags.
"Dean, we're not sure of that," Castiel says. "Remember what happened with Lucifer. Chamsael has a higher rank in Hell, higher even than a Prince or a Knight. I don't know if..."
"Well, we haven't got any other fast way. And as far as I'm concerned, Chamsael's just a pumped up Prince of Hell. He even has Azazel's eyes. It should work."
"I'll call Mick then," Sam grabs his cellphone.
While Sam walks towards the Institute's double doors, the Shadowhunters gather around Castiel, eager to know about the mentioned Colt. The angel and Dean stare at them. Alec decides to ask away.
"What's The Colt?"
"In 1835, a gun maker named Samuel Colt made a special gun," Dean starts telling the story. "It is said that gun can kill anything, no matter its race or nature. As far as we've seen, it has offed everything it has hit, except for Lucifer."
"You mean you went toe to toe with the Devil?" Alec asks with discreet astonishment.
"Yeah, don't get too excited," Dean mutters. "We...ehem... We lost that time. Thought the gun would kill him."
"Oh..."
"And you think that gun can kill Chamsael?" Garroway asks. "I see Castiel pretty worried here."
"Lucifer said that there are five things in all of creation it can't kill," Dean asserts. "However, I killed a Prince of Hell with it before, and Chamsael's one of them."
"I see."
"My brother's sending word," Dean tries to soothe everyone. "It should be in our hands soon."
"Let's not waste time, then," Alec turns the holographic interface on. "While that gun gets here, we can use all of the Institute's resources to locate Chamsael and his team."
New York's holographic image takes the shape of the same two-dimensional map seen before by the Winchesters. However, it lacks the blinking light corresponding to the tracking device placed on Nick. Alec turns it off and on, getting the same results. Jace stands next to him. They both sigh at the same time. Damn it.
"The tracking device must have fried back at the bar when Chamsael appeared," Simon asserts.
"Or Nick might have destroyed it willingly," Clary sighs. "Either way, we're back at square one."
"Not necessarily," Alec keeps pressing keys. "We know their plan now. And as for their location, I can have our tracking team make an algorithm following Chamsael's electric distortion pattern. It could take a few hours, but it's the best shot we have if we want to locate him."
"I could track possible high demonic energy zones throughout New York," Jace volunteers. "We could send in scouting teams once I've located them."
"Fine," Alec supports him. "Take whoever you need. Just do it fast."
All those present bear witness to Alec's leading prowess despite his sister's kidnapping. Once again his look is deep, firm and determined. His voice recovers its calm and leading tone, leaving all the sighing behind. His orders transmit the proper confidence the head of the Shadowhunter Institute needs to show.
"The rest of you use this time to heal your wounds. We must stop that demon and bring my sister back. It's gonna' be a hard battle. Only this time, we'll be ready for him."
Sam enters the strategy room again. Everyone stares at him.
"What?" He stares back. "What'd I miss?"
"Alec's great morale boosting speech here," Dean mocks the Shadowhunter. "Did you talk to Mick?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He just sent that weird creepy guy, Ketch, with the gun. He'll meet us in a couple of hours at some alleyway in Brooklyn."
"All right, let's get that baby," Dean fixes his jacket. "We'll call once we have it. I hope you'd have found where that demon is hiding by then."
"We'll be in touch, Winchesters," Alec replies. "You can call Magnus in case you need fast travel."
"Right," Sam answers.
"Oh, hell no!" Dean complains. "No more portals, please! Last time I..."
"Nope, don't say it," Sam interrupts him and pushes him towards the exit. "We'll call."
The brothers notice Castiel doesn't make the slightest gesture to leave with them. They stop near the strategy room's exit and stare at him. The angel doesn't notice them.
"Cass, you're not coming?"
"I'd like to stay here for now," Castiel claims. "I have several questions for the Shadowhunters, and I feel something is compelling me to stay. It's some kind of a hunch."
"A pure and holy being like you is more than welcome to stay at our institute," Alec welcomes him. "Feel free to use our library and ask anything you need to know. We'll be happy to help."
"Thank you."
"Suit yourself, then," Dean walks away, smiling and mumbling complaints about Alec's sentence. "Pure and holy my..."
The Winchesters exchange numbers with Magnus Bane before leaving, and wave goodbye to the rest. They swiftly reach the exit and push the double doors. Seeing the Impala parked outside, all safe and sound, makes Dean both happy and relieved. How I missed you, baby, he thinks while caressing its shiny black hood.
Alleyway set for the appointment, Brooklyn, New York, 6:30 A.M.
The Winchesters remain seated inside the Impala, observing the sun's attempts to emit its first rays. The car's old cassette player plays the unmistakable melody of Aerosmith's song "Jaded" at a moderate volume. Dean leans back on his seat and slowly shuts his eyes while Sam stays alert. The latter looks around, his eyes wrinkled, trying to distinguish any approaching vehicle or human figure from within the fog, caused by steam exhausts from nearby buildings. He soon spots a black Chevrolet Suburban SUV emerging from the thick white smoke. That must be Ketch, he deduces. He wakes his brother up with elbow hits.
The driver parks the SUV near them and slowly lowers his black tinted glass. A well-known face appears at the open car window. Sam notices that the ruthless hunter from the British Men of Letters maintains a decent appearance, shown by a perfectly shaved face, an impeccable hair and a dark clean suit, adorned by a tie as red as blood. The bright shining from his vehicle's body overcomes the nearby fog.
"Sam, Dean," Ketch greets them. "Nice seeing you, as always."
"Yeah, Whatever," Dean shows discomfort. "Did you bring what we asked for?"
Ketch hands him over a brown leather bag with strange writings sewn on it. Dean swiftly pulls its content out, revealing itself to be an old and familiar Colt Patterson Replica. The revolver shape, the pentagram carved on its handle and the inscription on its barrel allow them to recognize it as The Colt, showing a discreet smile when holding it. Sam inspects its cylinder, realizing it lacks one of the six bullets it can hold. The British hunter notices his discomfort.
"Six bullets were created using the ritual you taught us," Ketch addresses Sam. "However, in order to avoid any kind of bad surprise, I took the liberty of testing one of them on the way here, putting a quite aggressive vampire to rest. Guess what? It works just fine."
"Right," Sam sighs.
"Anyways, there should be enough ammo in there to kill Chamsael. One shot to the head or the heart should suffice. You'll be able to knock yourselves out."
"Not that we like you so much, but," Sam stares at Ketch. "Wouldn't you, you know, like to join us?"
"Unfortunately, I can't be running around with you two on this one. I have important businesses to tend to here in New York."
"More important than an ancient demon with a soul-burning nuke on his hands?"
"I trust you two are perfectly capable of handling the situation," Ketch smiles. "Besides, you have help, and you've fixed worse messes in the past. At least this one wasn't caused by your actions."
The Winchesters stare at Ketch with disapproval, which seems to cause him no regret. Instead, he pulls two fine cardboard files from inside his car and hands them over to Dean. \
"Our boys did some digging about the two misfits serving Chamsael," Ketch says. "You'll find the content enlightening. Quite an interesting past they both have, especially the she-wolf."
"What about Chamsael?" Dean asks.
"We only have the info Mick gave you. There's nothing else on him."
"All right," Dean sighs. "We'll take it from here."
"I'd advise you to be careful with that Chamsael fellow," Ketch warns them. "No hunter has ever faced the Archduke of Hell before. That creature's been locked up for thousands of years, with powers still unknown even by his fellow demons."
"We'll be fine," Dean brags. "We took on Lucifer himself and won. A steroid-powered demon doesn't stand a chance against us."
"I must go now," Ketch starts his SUV. "Bring the gun back when you're done. Good luck."
Ketch drives out of the alleyway and disappears into the thick white fog. The Winchesters ignore him, gazing at the Colt and embracing the sense of power and safety it transmits. Sam makes a call from his cellphone.
"Alec, we have the gun, along with substantial information regarding Beatrice and Nick."
"See you back at the Institute, then," Alec replies.
Shadowhunter Institute, Manhattan, New York, 8:30 A.M.
Upon returning to the Institute, the Winchesters show all the things Ketch brought them to the Shadowhunters. The Colt lays on the table at the Strategy Room, along with the files containing data about Nicholas Andrew Clay, Beatrice Swatter and Chamsael. All three individuals' holographic images float over the interface. Sam manages to notice Castiel's absence. Where the hell is he now?
"Let's see if I understood," Jace says. "Beatrice was born out of a Demon pact?"
"It isn't that simple," Sam starts explaining. "Her mother couldn't conceive and wanted to have children badly, so she made a deal with a crossroads demon. Obviously, her wish was granted in exchange for her soul."
"But it says here Beatrice was orphaned when she was five years old," Alec rebates him. "Isn't a deal normally made for ten years?"
"Apparently, the demon recurred to a loophole in the contract, causing both parents' premature death via traffic accident."
"How sad," Clary gets touched by the story. "Damn demons..."
"Since she was conceived after the deal, her soul was tainted before being born," Alec deduces. "Her thirst for vengeance on the demon added some blackness to the pot, and in turn it was filled when she was turned into a werewolf, strengthening her bounds with Edom. She's the perfect candidate to communicate with a higher rank demon like Chamsael."
"Edom?" Dean mutters to Jace. "Where the hell is that?"
"Hell..."
"Oh..."
"What about Nick?" Clary asks.
"Same thing we dug up so far," Sam answers. "He worked for a guy who was laundering money, got in too deep and got murdered. Apparently, a vampire felt sorry for him and turned him in order to save his life."
"And then she was murdered by the Soul Sword," Clary lowers her sight.
"Jeanette Enlacroix," Sam pulls out a paper from Nick's pile. "She looked nice, and apparently Nick was quite fond of her. The rest of his motivations feed his chaotic personality and his typical vampire behavior."
"What about Chamsael?" Alec asks. "Anything on him?"
"Not much..."
"Sam, come check this out!"
Sam's explanation gets interrupted by his brother's calling, who had been paying attention to one of the lobby's holographic screens transmitting the news channel. All follow him towards the broadcast. Alec raises the volume.
"According to local authorities, Mr. Thomas Blossom's death took place last night while being alone at home. No signs of forced entry or violence so far, but the way the corpse was found strongly suggests it was a homicide. We will now broadcast the images. Viewer discretion is advised."
The beautiful reporter's face switches to a set of images from the crime scene. The Winchesters stare in shock at Mr. Blossom's still dressed body, cut in half with his legs missing. It hangs from the ceiling in bloody barbed wire, which restraints circle his forehead, neck, arms and hands.
"God," Clary covers her mouth with both hands.
"What the hell...!"
Dean's complaint is soon interrupted by his cellphone's ringing, showing an unknown number on the screen. He hesitantly answers.
"Agent Summers..."
"Cut the crap, Dean," Luke Garroway's voice answers from the other side. "You saw the news yet?"
"Yeah, it looks pretty ugly out there."
"I never thought I'd say this, but I need you and your brother to don your fake FBI costumes and get here as fast as you can. No Glamour."
"We'll be right there, detective."
Everyone gathers around Dean. Sam stares at him, raising his brows in an interrogative way. Jace, Clary and Alec do the same.
"Garroway is at the Blossom residence," Dean addresses his brother. "He needs us there A.S.A.P."
"Let's get you Glamoured then," Alec proposes.
"No!" Dean stops him. "He specifically said no Glamour. We go in, same as we always have. Thanks anyways."
"No problem."
"Off we go, then," Sam walks towards the exit, followed by Dean. "We'll keep you posted on updates. Just call us if you locate Chamsael."
"We will," Alec reassures him.
Before leaving the Institute, Dean goes back to the Strategy Room and swiftly grabs the Colt from the table, holstering it under his belt.
Blossom Residence, Howard Beach, Queens, 9:30 AM
The Winchesters discreetly crawl under the yellow barricade tape marking the Blossom residence as a crime scene, both dressed in their FBI outfits. They show their fake badges to the two NYPD officers that spot them. Luke swiftly comes to their aid.
"It's all right. They're with me."
With the two officers dismissed, Sam and Dean put their badges away and discreetly follow the detective. The property is swarmed by cops and forensic scientists, and a loud noise can be heard coming from the streets beyond the legally impenetrable yellow line. The brothers manage to distinguish police sirens, TV choppers and a loudly curious civilian crowd. Man, the first time we came here, this place was a graveyard, Dean remembers.
The inside of the house is as swarmed as the outside. Despite having all the electrical lights on, the decorations are barely distinguishable due to the presence of abundant NYPD personnel. They immediately reach the living room where they had interviewed Mr. Blossom. A strong and unbearable sulfur smell surpasses any other. Demons? They ask themselves.
Near the still lit chimney, the brothers lively see what they had seen previously in the news. What the hell? Both raise their brows when they notice Mr. Blossom's torso hanging from the ceiling with barbed wire, cut from the waist down, with some of his guts visible to the naked eye. The tight and macabre metal ties circle his forehead, neck and arms, leaving what remains of the body in a position similar to a crucified Jesus Christ. The sharp points penetrating the flesh still leak blood.
"Where are his legs?" Dean asks.
"The boys are still searching for them," Garroway replies. "No sign of forced entry so far, and with this ugly scene I'm supposing this is our kind of case."
Sam activates his EMF detector and stares at how the five little red lamps turn on instantaneously. Damn, he thinks while looking at the high indicator. He notices a weirdly staring police officer, making him put the device away. Not the right time. Too many people.
"Dean, the EMF almost bursts," he mutters. "There's high frequency here, and it reeks of sulfur here. This man's death was caused by several monsters."
"Monsters?" Garroway asks. "What kind?"
"We won't know for sure until we get a good look at the place."
"Give me two minutes..."
Garroway walks towards one of the officers and speaks to him, without Sam and Dean bothering to try and overhear. The officer walks towards the center of the living room and orders everyone else to abandon it. The Winchesters watch with ease as all NYPD personnel leaves.
"Perks of having an authentic police badge," the detective brags. "We have little time, so let's make this as quick and thorough as possible."
The brothers and Garroway cover their hands using blue latex gloves and quickly get to work. They notice the numerous blood stains on the floors and walls, one of them splashing one of the Blossom family paintings. The flames coming from the chimney remain noticeable despite the fully lit Venetian glass roof lamp. The smell of sulfur grows stronger by the minute, mildly mitigated by the stench coming from Mr. Blossom's corpse.
"Guys, come see this!"
Sam and Garroway rapidly attend to Dean's call from the chimney's bronze railings. Both notice that his glove is stained with a black substance known to the hunters. Ectoplasm? Sam asks himself. Ghosts too, then?
"Sulfur, ectoplasm," Dean says. "It's like the whole army of darkness attacked this poor man."
"With all we've seen in New York, I'm not shocked," Garroway claims. "We've ended up chasing two Downworlders and one big-ass demon with a less than good agenda. Who knows what will happen next."
While listening to Garroway, Sam notices what seems to be ectoplasm stains on the floor, laying a path out of the living room. Footprints? He asks himself while staring at the clumsily straight pattern. He shows the whole thing to his team.
"Let's see where this leads," he says.
Dean and Garroway follow him out of the living room. The path made by the stains takes them upstairs, towards a long corridor with lots of doors. They eventually reach an incompletely open room from which an even stronger sulfur smell emanates. They all draw their guns. Sam takes point and slowly pushes the hinging door.
All three enter a room with its walls and floor painted in a white and pink mixture. A single size bed lies at the center, covered with sheets bearing the same aforementioned colors. In front of it, they see a white mahogany shelf, with several of its compartments occupied by animal plush toys. The wall over the bed shows the name "Cassidy" painted on it in an artistic shape.
"This must be the deceased Cassidy Blossom's room," Garroway deduces. "What would the killer want with...?"
The detective stops formulating his question when he sees a pile of photos lying on the bed. He puts his gun away and takes a look at them, followed by the Winchesters. They notice that the pictures depict Cassidy Blossom and her friend Annie Stillman in different places and settings. That's the girl we met during our investigation, Sam remembers. All team members get edgy when they see that Annie's eyes and mouth are either perforated, cut off or burnt in every single image.
"Forget what I asked," Garroway drops the photos. "We must get to that girl's house now."
"You don't have to tell us that twice," Dean says.
"Damn demons," Sam complains. "They're going after Cassidy's family and friends now? What's wrong with them?"
"Don't know, don't care," Dean rushes down the stairs. "We have to save her."
Just when the team is about to reach the living room, Garroway's cellphone rings, showing the name of Alec Lightwood on the screen. The detective answers and puts it on loudspeaker.
"Alec."
"Luke, we have a serious problem," Alec says from the other side. "I need your help."
"What's wrong?"
"I got reports of various demon attacks throughout the city, and I had to send almost all Shadowhunters away. It's total chaos out there."
"You need help with the demons?"
"Not with the demons," Alec sighs. "I got that covered. I need help with Magnus."
"What's with him?" Garroway asks.
"I called to warn him, but he doesn't answer his phone. I'm seriously worried, and I can't leave the Institute with everything that's going on. Clary, Jace and Simon are on the field, and I've got no one else to send over. Could you...?"
"Alec, it's not a good time..."
"Yes, Luke is going to go check on Magnus!" Dean meddles in, under the detective's disapproval look. "Go and help the lovebirds. We'll take care of Annie Stillman."
Sam and Dean don't give Garroway the time to decline. Both rush towards the exit and reach the Impala in a matter of seconds. They man their seats almost instantaneously.
"Man, I hope we're not too late," Dean sighs while tire-screeching his way out of there.
Annie Stillman's apartment, Astoria, Queens, 9:50 A.M.
The Winchesters quickly run through the empty corridor towards Annie Stillman's apartment door. Dean rings the bell several times and gets no response, prompting him to knock on the black wooden door with his bare fist. Dude, calm down, Sam shows him a hand signal. The latter spots black stains on the floor, forming a pattern towards the inside.
"Dean," Sam touches his brother's shoulder.
The Winchesters draw their guns and take point. They wait three seconds before breaching. Sam kicks the door. Let's do this.
Both crash into the apartment and find a startled Annie Stillman, painting an autumn landscape over a canvas. The girl stands from her stool, barefooted, still holding her painting brush. She looks at them with her eyebrows lifted. She's wearing the same clothes, Dean remembers the day they met her.
"Um, agents," Annie greets them in shock. "Something I can help you with?"
"Well…"
"There's no time to explain," Sam interrupts Dean's babbling. "We need to take you to a safe place now."
"Why? What's going on?"
Annie's questions are soon interrupted by the sudden closure of the apartment door, followed by the bursting of several light bulbs and an intense sulfur smell. The air turns so cold that it mists all the window glasses.
"Well, that's why," Dean answers.
The brothers hear the sound of a ghost piercing the veil behind them. Before they can turn around and see, something hurls them towards Annie Stillman. They swiftly get up and shoot in that direction, hitting nothing but air. Damn...
A strange being then appears out of thin air. The Winchesters and Annie Stillman find themselves before a blond, naked girl, with her skin adopting a bluish color. Her eyeballs are completely black, and a dark drool comes out from her mouth, similar to the ectoplasm forming the tracks back at the Blossom residence. The brothers notice her exposed breasts are devoid of nipples and her crotch is completely flat, showing no traits of external genitals.
"Cassidy," Annie cries as she recognizes her friend. "My god..."
Sam draws a sawed-off shotgun and swiftly fires a rock salt shell at Cassidy. The undead girl takes the shot without dissipating and screams loudly. He fires a second time with equal results. What the hell?
Cassidy warps and appears before Sam, swiftly grabbing him by the neck and tossing him against a table at the center of the living room. Dean grabs his brother's shotgun and shoots her in the back. Far from dissipating, she emits a scream so screechy that all glasses shatter. The dead girl then runs towards a standing up Sam and hurls him against a wall with a two hand push.
"What the hell is she?!" Dean loses his temper.
"She looks like a ghost, but salt doesn't seem to affect her!" Sam asserts while trying to stand up. "Let's try iron!"
"Iron it is, then."
Dean spots a nearby iron floor lamp, grabs it with both hands, removes its white screen and hits Cassidy's head with its pole. Far from vanishing, the undead girl turns around and punches the hunter's chest, hurling him against a pile of empty easels. Sam helps him up. Annie remains in her corner.
"What do we do now?" Dean asks.
Cassidy slowly walks towards Annie Stillman, vanishing and reappearing several times before reaching her. Annie doesn't say a word. Her green eyes drop a few tears as she stares at what has become of her friend. The ghostly girl warps near her.
"Cassidy," Annie whines. "What happened to you?"
The undead girl screams so loud and screechy that Sam and Dean are forced to cover their ears. Annie seems to remain unaffected. She manages to touch and caress her friend's hair and face. Cassidy stands still, gradually reducing the intensity of her screams.
"This is all my fault," Annie continues crying.
"ANNIE, STOP!" Sam yells while reloading his shotgun. "GET AWAY FROM HER!"
"I invited you to my party," Annie continues her speech. Cassidy roars and cracks her neck repeatedly. "I just wanted you to leave that religious hole in which you were always so immersed."
Sam aims his shotgun at Cassidy. His finger lays ready to pull the trigger, trembling while it touches its cold and insipid iron. It's just a rock salt shell, he tries to stay calm as he seemingly can't get a clear shot. Something prevents him from shooting. Is it her? Am I afraid to hurt Annie with the salt? Or is it my previous futile attempts? Seeing Annie hug her undead friend gives him the answer. I wanna' see what happens.
Sam's hesitation makes Dean grab the Colt and aim it at Cassidy. Without noticing the hunter, Annie strongly hugs her undead friend, who remains still and looks back at her. Her mouth begins drooling profusely. Her hand touches her living friend's back. The elder Winchester then hammers the revolver.
"DEAN, NO!" Sam stops him.
"PLEASE, I BEG YOU TO FORGIVE ME!" Annie kneels in front of Cassidy. "If it weren't for my stupidity, you wouldn't have fled my house and lost your life! Please, I beg you, forgive me! Kill me afterwards if you like, but please! I need to know you forgive me!"
After hearing Annie's pleads, Cassidy stares at her and drops two black lines of ectoplasm tears from each one of her blackened eyes. She then pulls her right hand backwards, closes her fist and aims at her living friend's heart. Annie shuts her eyes and smiles.
"I'm sorry, Cassidy..."
With her crying eyes shut, Annie hears a gunshot, followed by a series of short, throaty and guttural moans. She opens her eyes and sees Cassidy bleeding ectoplasm from her eyes, nose and mouth, accompanied by a sparking and shiny white wound on her chest. The sparks glow more intense until they emit a blinding flash, after which the body of the undead girl disintegrates. A trinket in the shape of a crucifix appears on the floor.
"NO!" Annie yells. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"You're welcome?" Dean disagrees with her reaction.
Annie picks up the chain and crucifix from the floor. She kisses the objects in tears. Sam tries to comfort her.
"Get out," Annie rejects him. "Leave me alone with her. Let me honor her like she deserves."
"But..."
"I SAID GET OUT!"
Dean holsters the Colt, grabs his brother by the shoulder and pulls him out of the apartment. Sam keeps staring at Annie Stillman until they reach the exit.
"We saved her, man," Dean mutters. "You know how it goes. Let's get the hell outta' here."
Sam reluctantly follows his brother out of the building and into the Impala. Once inside the car, Dean starts it and drives towards the Institute. He grabs his cellphone and dials Garroway's number He puts it on speaker once the detective answers the call.
"How'd it go?"
"Cassidy Blossom came back in the form of a monster we had never seen before," Dean replies. "Some kind of materialized ghost reeking of sulfur, immune to rock salt and iron. However, we could easily finish her with the Colt."
"What about Annie Stillman?"
"Safe and sound."
"Good," Garroway sighs in relief. "Magnus here killed a bunch of army-dressed demons by himself. It seems I came late to the party."
"Then Alec was right," Sam acknowledges. "Magnus was indeed attacked by Chamsael's demons."
"I just spoke to Clary too," Garroway says. "She says most of the attacks in the city are being perpetrated by demons possessing military mundanes. Seems like an all-out strike ordered by Chamsael."
"What's he planning?" Sam asks.
"Well, surely nothing good," Dean claims. "He's searching the city for demonic energy, and he's trying hard."
"Sam, Dean, something occurs to me," Magnus abruptly meddles in. "Remember our friend Castiel specifying that the Shield of Despair needed enormous quantities of demonic energy to be activated?"
"Yeah," Dean answers. "Alec sent his people to inspect the places bearing that kind of juice, in and out of the city. What's your point?"
"Listen to me," Magnus raises his voice. "The Institute is powered by a reactor bearing high levels of celestial energy. Valentine Morgenstern powered the Soul Sword using it."
"And?"
"Don't you guys see it?" Magnus loses his patience. "Chamsael sends his demons to cause chaos all around the city. He's forcing us to intervene far from the Institute."
"You mean he's planning on using the Institute's reactor?" Sam asks. "You said yourself it's powered by celestial energy, not demonic."
"Unless it is corrupted," Magnus clarifies.
"Come again?" Dean gets startled.
"Celestial energy can turn very, very obscure," Magnus explains. "You just need a few rituals and some willingly expendable demons. After all, those wretched creatures were once human, and had a soul made of pure light."
"It's the same principle as when Lucifer corrupted Lilith," Sam deduces. "A soul made out of pure light twisted repeatedly, until it eventually turned dark."
"Son of a bitch," Dean complains. "He's been planning this since the beginning."
"We need to head back to the Institute now," Garroway says. "Chamsael played us. He might as well already be there."
"Easy, detective," Magnus comforts him. "Having Nick on his team slows him down until night comes. That vampire has the characteristic pale skin of a vampire vulnerable to sunlight."
"That might help us turn this around," Dean calmly replies. "If we know where he's headed, we might be able to trap him, so I can put a bullet on his head."
"You're not serious, are you?" Magnus complains. "Are you telling me you're going to use the Institute as bait?"
"Call it an ambush," Dean accelerates the Impala. "We can take the lead on this one."
"Any ideas?" Garroway asks.
"Gather everyone in the Institute's strategy room. I've got a plan."
Outside the Shadowhunter Institute, Manhattan, New York, 8:30 P.M.
The group led by Chamsael nears an enormous cathedral. Nick looks at the ruined and empty building with strangeness. Isabelle, however, recognizes the place. What are we doing at the Institute?
"It's here," Chamsael says. "The New York Shadowhunter Institute. That's where our energy source is waiting for us."
"I just see an old, empty church," Nick smiles while holding Isabelle's handcuffed arms.
"That's what they want us to see," Chamsael claims. "The reality is different. Watch."
The demon performs a small hand gesture at the cathedral. Isabelle widely opens her eyes and raises her brows when she sees the Glamour surrounding the Institute disappear. The place slowly changes under a descending pink aurora, with the windows showing light emanating from inside and the nearby plants changing from dead leaves and dry stems to square lively cypress hedges. After the illusion completely fades, Chamsael spots the Winchesters, Magnus and the three remaining young Shadowhunters protecting the doors.
"Oh, how cute," Nick smiles while Isabelle struggles to get free. "Your friends are waiting for us."
"It seems they discovered our ruse," Chamsael brags. "Shame. They could have lived a few hours more."
"All right, gang," Dean mutters. "Stick to the plan and everything should play out."
Chamsael, Nick and Beatrice smile defiantly in front of Clary, Jace and Alec's angry gazes. Sam's eyes fixate themselves on the powerless and restrained Isabelle, who stares back at him. She struggles and tries to break free from her captor's strong arms. Nick buries his fingers on her skin.
"HOLD...STILL!"
The vampire pulls his shiny fangs out and bites his captive Nephilim's neck. Isabelle's pupils dilate instantly. Her impulse to break free is quickly calmed while the vampire venom takes effect in front of Alec's angry eyes. Clary and Jace draw their Seraph Blades.
"I've had it," Alec loads an arrow and aims his bow at Nick. "Time to end this."
The Nephilim leader shoots his projectile towards the vampire's head. Chamsael stands on its way, easily grabs it in the air and then arrogantly drops it. Damn it, Alec loads another arrow. Clary and Jace charge against Nick and Beatrice.
"Okay, here we go," Dean mutters. "Magnus, do your thing!"
Magnus starts weaving his hands while Sam and Dean draw their angel blades and charge straight against Chamsael. The Winchesters and the Nephilim couple relentlessly run towards their adversaries. Clary goes towards Beatrice. Jace takes the path towards Nick. Both monsters get ready to defend themselves while the demon remains arrogantly still before the Winchesters' approach. Isabelle can barely watch.
Once everyone is near enough, Chamsael waves both his arms in an arc and sends all the attackers flying. Sam and Dean hit a nearby tree. Jace and Clary are slammed against the sidewalk.
"Stupid maggots," Chamsael smiles. "They never learn."
Far from stopping, Dean gets up and kneels. He spots the demon walking towards Magnus and Alec, with the Nephilim leader's continuous arrow shooting slowing him down.
"SIMON! GARROWAY! YOU'RE UP!"
Garroway and Simon jump out of the nearby shadows and quickly charge against their respective counterparts, getting Isabelle released. Still poisoned by the tainted blood, she tries crawling out of the fighting place. Chamsael grabs her by her neck and effortlessly lifts her up.
"You can't just behave, can you?"
The mistreatment of Isabelle enrages Sam so much that he empties his gun clip on Chamsael's back. The bullets go through his vessel's army fatigues and into his skin. No blood comes out. Sam tries to reload.
"MAGNUS, HURRY UP!" Dean yells.
"JUST A BIT LONGER!"
While still holding Isabelle by her neck, Chamsael sends Sam flying with a small finger gesture. He then drops the Nephilim and sticks her to the floor using his telekinesis. Jace and Clary try attacking him one more time. He hurls them both away.
"Stupid maggots."
Chamsael looks around and sees his servants losing to Garroway and Simon. Far from going in their aid, he slowly and relentlessly walks towards Magnus, seeing that the latter continues casting a spell. Alec drops his bow and draws a Seraph Blade.
"There he comes," he mutters. "This is what we've been waiting for."
"DEAN, I'M READY!" Magnus yells while showing red sparks emanating from his hands.
"CASS, NOW!"
The demon's advance is halted by what he perceives as a couple of arms holding him firmly. His yellow and purple eyes see a pair of sleeves from a beige trench coat, covering a pair of hands that grab one another. Chamsael tries breaking free with minimal effort. His inability to do so forces him to see the true nature of his new attacker.
"Angel," he sighs. "I hadn't seen one in millennia..."
"WELL DONE!" Magnus smiles. "TAKE THIS, YOU DEMON!"
The Warlock launches a red energy bolt towards Chamsael, causing an intense spark upon reaching its target. His vessel's blond hair weaves strongly with the blast. His face show slight signs of pain that slowly change into a smile. The attack stops. The demon remains unharmed.
"This trick didn't work on me either, kid. You lost again."
Chamsael opens his arms and throws Castiel away from him. Alec charges at the demon, who arrogantly smiles and tries moving away. However, something prevents him from lifting his feet off the ground.
"What the...?"
Chamsael's smiley attitude changes. Along with Alec, he spots Clary, Jace, Sam and Castiel rushing at him from all sides. They all jump on him at the same time and try holding him tight by grabbing his vessel's neck, arms and legs.
"Stupid maggots..."
Without much effort, Chamsael suddenly opens his robust arms and swings them in an arc, spreading everyone who was holding him around. Magnus raises his brows when he sees Alec hit one of the Institute's outer brick walls. Sam helps break Clary's fall.
"Did you really think you could tackle me?"
"Honestly?" A voice asks him from behind. "No, we didn't..."
Chamsael hears a "CLICK" behind his head. He turns around and sees Dean aiming an already hammered Colt at him. His vessel's eyebrows almost reach the sky. His yellow and purple eyes open dramatically.
"I just wanted to make sure you couldn't teleport away."
Dean pulls the trigger.
*BANG!*
The shot produces a strong echo. The bullet goes straight into the demon's forehead. His head strongly shakes. His eyes remain staring at heaven. His whole body starts sparking heavily.
"NO!" Nick and Beatrice scream simultaneously.
Alec and Magnus hug, while the rest stare at the dying demon with happiness and relief. Chamsael's true form blinks and sparkles through his vessel's skin. His legs go soft. His arms fall and hang. His whole body starts convulsing in front of Dean. Sam uses the moment to help Isabelle stand up and place her behind him, both watching her captor's downfall in delight. The elder Winchester lowers the Colt as the sparkling grows stronger.
"We got him," Sam sighs.
"Yeah, we did," Isabelle leans on his back, still handcuffed.
Chamsael's demonic essence stops sparking.
"Nah, I was just messing with you guys."
Shadowhunters and Downworlders raise their brows as Chamsael stands up and faces Dean. His forehead bullet wound heals. His face shows his arrogant grin again. No, this can not be, Sam complains.
"Funny, am I not?"
Chamsael punches Dean in the chest so hard he sends him flying. Afterwards, he weaves his hands and hurls Castiel, Garroway and Simon out of the scene.
"Let's continue as planned, shall we?"
The demon walks slowly towards Isabelle. Sam draws his angel blade and faces him.
"You won't take her."
Chamsael closes his fist, causing Sam such abdominal pain that he drops his weapon and lies on the pavement. He watches powerlessly as the demon telekinetically moves the still handcuffed Isabelle towards Nick. Alec and Magnus stand ready for combat.
"It is said that there are five things in all of creation that gun can't kill," the demon slowly approaches them, finishing his sentence with a sardonically defiant grin. "Just as it happens, I might be the sixth one."