Chapter Nine – Come Play, Little Mice

There were just too damn many of them.

Like a swarm of bees, the gremlins chased after the brothers as they ran, seemingly coming at them from all directions. Dean and Sam had taken to shooting at them, which they didn't think would work but miraculously seemed to have some effect at stopping the ones they hit. So much for the movies, Dean thought as he ran, trying his best to keep Sam in his sights at the same time as the hoard of nasties on their tails.

Sam also did his best to keep Dean in sight, wondering where the hell they were running to. "Away" just didn't seem to offer any immediate solutions to their current problem and he was low on ammo and knew Dean had to be as well. Every few seconds he would feel a gremlin or two latch on to him from a frantic leap and so far he had managed to dislodge them, but not before they got a few good swipes of their claws in. And damn, if that didn't hurt like a bitch.

The situation was just not good, and getting no better.

Suddenly, in what had to be a united ploy, a group of gremlins in front of them had lined up along the ground like a living spike strip. Unfortunately he saw it a second too late and tripped right over it, landing hard on the ground. Apparently Dean had missed the trap as well as Sam heard a similar grunt and whomp from next to him.

He found himself quickly covered by the swarm, their screeches deafening, their claws scratching away. Sam put his arms over his head to best try and protect his face but deemed the situation hopeless. As quickly as they attacked, though, they were suddenly gone, screeches of a different tone indicating a hasty retreat. Sam dared to open his eyes and was temporarily blinded by a series of floodlights surrounding them. He looked over and saw Dean in a similar huddling on the ground but soon met his brother's equally confused expression.

His eyes now adjusted, Sam began to get up and look around, but not a gremlin was in site. Just the empty, now eerily silent woods.

"What the…" he heard Dean ask as he approached Sam. "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?" Sam asked, dusting himself off and quickly assessing any serious wounds on both himself and Dean.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, the flood lights shut off and they were again left in darkness.

"Well, that was helpful, but somehow I get the feeling it was only for our temporary benefit," Sam observed.

"Vinnie did say he thought this Collector freak liked to play with his toys," Dean said, looking around. "But I would think he'd wait to see how we'd get rid of the gremlins ourselves before bailing us out."

"We weren't exactly doing a very good job with that."

"True."

"What now?"

Dean started picking up their gear. "Now we go on, try to find a way in. Bastard knows we're here, but that doesn't change anything. Just beready for anything."

"From what we already know about this place – which isn't a lot – anything could be a lot of things," Sam said ominously.

"Yeah," was all Dean had. They sighed, picked a direction and set off.

SNSNSN

"This is wrong."

Sera had been slowing down their momentum with each turn down a hallway and John was getting frustrated, both by the fact that they weren't getting very far very fast but also that it had been too damn easy thus far.

"It's too damn easy…" Sera said, pausing again.

"Would you stop that?" John said, wishing his thoughts could be his own again.

"Stop what?" Sera said, seemingly unaware that she had voiced exactly what John had been thinking. "All I'm saying is this place is…well, we should have …been…oh crap."

"What?"

"It's a test. It's a damn test to see what I would do. That's what he does, he's tests, always. We're just his little mice in his whacked-out maze and he's just dying to see how we'll react to his stimuli – and you, YOU were a giant-ass piece of gouda."

"Sera…"

"Don't you get it? He knew! He knew I was just looking for way out, a chance to get away and I fell for it. God, I am so stupid! We're not getting out of here! We're just another stupid test!!"

Sera's voice grew louder with her exasperation and John, wanting her to be quiet on the off chance she was wrong but feeling quite certainly that she was right, began formulating a new plan for their unavoidable recapture.

"You son of a bitch!!" Sera yelled out to the walls. "You wanna play with me? Fine! Come and take me head on! Have the sack to take me on directly, you miserable, sadistic, decrepit piece of …"

Suddenly the halls lit up with bright florescent lighting as the crackle of a speaker came on.

"It was only a matter of time, my dear, though I'm surprised you bided your time as long as you did," taunted Victor.

Suddenly one of the walls began to slide sideways, exposing a small room behind a glass shield within which sat their captor.

"I was never unmonitored, was I," Sera, asked, clearly defeated. "You watched my every move, the whole time."

"Of course, my pet. You are far too trusting, but so very endearing. I wanted you, needed you to believe that I deemed you special, and you are, you are," cooed Victor. "But still you are my pet. My very lovely, nurturing, tamed pet."

"I guess I am," Sera said sadly. "How foolish of me to ever think otherwise. I'm glad I've been of such amusement to you."

John would have given his right arm to break through that glass and throttle the bastard, but sure enough around the corners at each end came several heavily armed guards. He looked at Sera, believing he would see only sorrow and surrender in her eyes reflecting the sadness in her voice. But instead he saw anger. Pure, unadulterated hatred, but only in her eyes. Her body didn't betray the rage clearly building in her. That she kept soft, shoulders slumped, head slightly bowed.

But in her eyes, John swore he saw red. Blood red. And he once again felt a glimmer of hope.