The Beast Within

- Chapter 8 –

After he had locked Sam in the basement, Benjamin Sinclair went back to the motel to check out of his own room and to see if Dean was still around.

Only one day had passed since Sam was kidnapped and the Impala was now parked closer to the rooms, indicating that its owner was still around. Benjamin pulled the old Dodge van into an empty space and put his hat on his head before he slowly walked over to the reception.

As he reached for the door, it suddenly was pushed open from the other side. The person who kept his eyes fixed to the floor as if it had all the answers for him down by his feet, suddenly looked up. It wasn't a happy look at all. In fact his eyes were red and he looked like he hadn't slept at all.

Benjamin tipped the rim of his hat smiling at Dean who in turn nodded reluctantly. He had no idea who Benjamin was or that he had only seen him a few days ago. Benjamin could tell that Dean was very much preoccupied with Sam's disappearance right now as he walked like a man on a mission. He curiously watched Dean stomp away towards the Impala and then returned the room keys back to receptionist.

Benjamin got back to the old house with a brown bag filled with groceries. They were for Sam. As long as he was locked up in the basement downstairs, Benjamin was going to feed him. It wasn't in god's interest to kill Sam Winchester until it was absolutely necessary, that much Benjamin knew. Other than that he hadn't planned a lot yet. In fact he had only then decided to let Sam starve for the first 3 days, so he put the shopping away and sat down at the kitchen table. The noise must have alerted Sam as he suddenly started shouting for help. He had a strong voice and Benjamin was concerned that a neighbour or passer by might actually hear him. He tapped his fingers on the scratched kitchen table for a while. The Lord was testing him. He gave him this big responsibility, maybe the greatest of them all. He chose Benjamin because he had a strong will and therefore he should not be disappointed in him.

He heaved an old man's sigh and grabbed the shotgun that was parked next to the basement door, before he went in.

"If you don't shut your trap I am going to shoot you right now!" He said from the top of the stairs. Somewhere down in the darkness of the rank basement he saw a grey shadow standing there, looking back at him with wild eyes.

"Let me go now!" Sam demanded in an angry desperate voice.

"You know that I cannot do that. It's not what he would want me to do."

Sam pressed his lips together flaring his nostrils.

"You are making a big mistake. When my brother finds me he…" he began threatening the old man but Benjamin suddenly started laughing and Sam stopped mid sentence. He didn't get to Dean as well, did he?

"I saw you brother today. He is leaving town you know. I think he already has come to terms with it."

Sam clenched his fists and pulled angry faces mainly to stop himself from crying. He wouldn't let the old man take the last bit of hope away from him!

"You are lying! He would never do that! My brother is going to find me!" He wanted to attack the old man so badly and punch his face until he'd shut up, but he had the gun and he knew he would use it.

"Believe what you want, or try and make yourself at home now. In case you haven't looked around yet, there is a little bathroom off the right side. There is a small sink, it's were you will get your drinking water from now on.

"Yes." Sam grumbled "I saw that. The water comes out brown and yellow"

"Very well" Benjamin said and turned around to leave.

"Wait!" Sam said desperately to buy more time and Benjamin stopped half turn then he turned around and aimed the gun at Sam, the finger already on the trigger.

"Woah!" Sam exclaimed moving two steps back displaying his empty hands as a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. I won't say another word." He lied to avoid being shot.

"I know" Benjamin said and closed the door.

As the darkness fell over Sam's face again so did the despair. He started feeling hungry a little as he hadn't eaten since before his abduction and he was bored out of his mind and the shear frustration of his helplessness made him so angry inside. He didn't knew what to do with his rage so he smacked his fist into the next wall. His knuckles cracked and the pain was excruciating but at least he felt alive and was in control over it.

Growling with pain holding his hurt hand he sat down on the floor again. He had found some old smelly blankets that he had arranged to a half decent comfortable place to sit and sleep for as long as he had to be here until Dean would find him.

Sam leant his head back resting it against the cold wall thinking about what the old man had said to him. That he had seen Dean today. So he went back to the motel, why? It did not make sense. Why would he think that Dean had abandoned him already? Dean would not leave a stone unturned until he'd found him, Sammy was sure of this. He knew he would do the same for Dean. What kind of a sick bastard was this old man? Did he really enjoy this all? And all this talk about doing god's work. Man this time he really had hit the jackpot! Sam's tummy rumbled again. Not only was he starving, he had tried a few sips of the yellow water from the tap before and it looked like it didn't agree with him at all.

As it was dark all the time, day and night began to blend into one for Sam.

If it wasn't for the steady ticking of Sam's wristwatch, he wouldn't be able to tell what time it was anymore. His listened to the hypnotic ticking that came from his wrist as he lay on his side, the head resting on an outstretched arm. The ticking was the only sound he could hear down here, apart from the occasional slurry noises coming from the kitchen above. He felt nauseous and weak and it felt like his stomach was eating itself. The constant moaning had finally stopped, but the emptiness of his tummy seemed to spread though his body like a disease. He stared into the desolate darkness. It was filled with rank dust and an occasional rat passing through. He wished he was a rat, small enough to fit through any hole. He could say goodbye to this place. But instead Sam just stared into the darkness for hours. The longer he did, it seemed like there were things hiding in the darker shadows within the darkness, moving around. Maybe he thought, the longer you stare into the darkness, the darkness will eventually stare back at you. He swallowed dry.

"You are not real…" he whispered towards the empty darkness, his voice fainting. He wondered if this is what it felt like to go insane. He had tried to drink more water, to keep his fluids up and his brain liquid, but the stomach cramps brought on by the hunger and whatever was in that water, was worse than any desire to satisfy his thirst. His lips had started to crack and show tiny splits and his eyes stung, his head hurt continuously now and he didn't even feel like he wanted to get up from the floor anymore.

He almost wished the old man had shot him a few days ago. Why not get it all over with now, why drag it out. Maybe he was right after all and Dean wasn't looking for him. Maybe he was even happy to be relieved of the burden that his little brother was for him. No one should have to carry a load like this. Dean was much better off without him. He had caused everyone he knew nothing but trouble and grief. His mum died because of him, so did Jessica, and a few other people along the way. Everything was connected to him somehow. Maybe he was evil after all…

Suddenly he heard a noise that he hadn't heard in a few days and as he looked towards the stairs a faint source of light had found its way into the basement.
He hoped it was Dean but his head was playing with him, hallucinating. Maybe the door wasn't even open.

The figure at the top of the stairs watched him for a few moments then turned around to get something and immediately returned. This would have been a good moment to try and escape Sam thought, but he didn't have the energy to even lift his head, let alone tackle the old man.

He watched the old man come down the stairs and in an desperate attempt to protect himself Sam rose up and moved backwards on his backside, just in case the old man would hit him again. He was surprised to see that the old man had brought a tray with food and a sack containing something heavy. The food smelled overwhelmingly good. So good it made Sam feel even sicker. He wanted to eat so badly but he was scared the man would break his fingers if he tried to reach for it so he just watched him carefully.

"I brought you some food and I will bring you some more food every day IF you behave."

Sam looked up, his forehead in wrinkles. Behave? How? And why would he even say that, as if he really had a choice! What was the old man saying again? Could he have the food now or not? What did he just say? He couldn't remember, he felt so drowsy and tired.

"I think you have learnt your first lesson. I can see you really cannot take your eyes of the tray. You must be really hungry."

Sam had trouble focusing and slowly looked over to the man, as if he was half asleep.

"But before I will let you eat, we have to establish a new rule."

Rule? What? What rule? What did he mean? What had he done now? He hadn't been talking, not loudly anyways. What did he mean?
He warily watched the old man open the sack, rolling back the opening like a sock. Inside was a pile of dark things, cold and heavy. Sam smelled the rusty iron and it made his stomach turn.

"I let you eat as soon as I put these on. You are not going to make me any trouble, are you?"

Sam tried to shy away shaking his head at the same time. No it was not okay with him! Leave me alone, he thought! Why won't you leave me alone?

The old man had produced a long iron chain from the sack and had started padlocking its one end to the supporting pillar in the middle of the basement.

"No!" Sam exclaimed as his brain began to put one and one together. There was an obvious panic in his voice.

"No chain!" Sam yelled, shaking his head in protest. He thought that it was his chance now or never. With the last little bit of strength he could summon he pulled himself up and made a run for the door. Both on his hands and feet he half climbed, half crawled up the stairs, his eyes pinned on the open door above him. You can make it Sam. You can…

"Aaaahhhh!" he yelled.

Something had caught his foot and his chin had an unexpected rendezvous with one of the steps. His jaw was slammed shut and he bit his tongue a little. He could taste the ferrous blood. He looked down his legs where the old man had grabbed one of his legs to hold him back.

"Let go!" he demanded and started kicking with the free foot while trying to pulling himself up the rest of the stairs, but the old man's grip was like jaws.

Two steps to freedom before Sam screamed in pain. It was a burning sensation that went up through his legs and choked him where the collar was.
Stungun or Tazer, Sam thought. Damn it! Damn it to hell, I can make it! He tried to fight through the pain and the uncontrollable twitches, keeping his mind focussed on the escape, but the old man kept shocking him over and over again until Sam lost all control. His head sank down on the top step; his fingers could almost reach the door….

Like he was miles away he felt that he was dragged down the stairs again, his chin grazed by every step, one buy one collecting the odd splinter. He mumbled something but he couldn't fight back anymore.

"You want to eat don't you?" Benjamin asked angrily.

The old man looked at Sam for a moment who was trying to come back from his shock induced daze.

"Well, okay. Then I'm going to have to take this with me" he said as if he was talking to a misbehaving child, conspicuously reaching for the tray while Sam was fighting with himself. His lips were twitching as if he was in pain but he didn't say anything.

"Let me know when you change your mind!" the old man huffed and turned to go.

"Wait!...wait…" Sam suddenly exploded and hated himself for his weakness. This was clearly a game of dominance and submission but he was so desperate and felt as if he had no choice then to play along.

"So you will be good?"

Sam forced himself to nod but every fibre of his aching body screamed not to give in and give this man all this power over him.

"Very well" the old man said pleased about this decision and took the other end of the chain and padlocked it to the ring that was attached to Sam's collar.

It was done. He was chained up.

"Are you happy now?" Sam muttered broken not caring anymore that he wasn't allowed to speak.

"There is a yet another new rule. Every time I hear another word out of your filthy mouth you will hand over a piece of clothing. Start with your jacket!"

Sam looked up in disbelief.

"What?" he couldn't help but say.

"And the shoes!"

Sam rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. Was there no end to the humiliation at all? He tried not to look at the old man as he took his beige jacket off and handed the Puma trainers over in exchange for some plain cooked chicken and slices of bread. He gulped the glass of orange juice almost down in one go. Food had never tasted that good to him before and he had to force himself to eat it slowly in order to not overwork his stomach. He noticed that one of his socks had a hole where the big toe was.
He hoped that he would manage to keep his mouth shut and enough of his clothes on him until Dean would finally find him.

Note: If there is anything you would like to see happening to Sam,
or have ideas of some more torture methods for Benjamin, give your evil side a voice and send me a message - O.F.