Wow. It's been a long time.
Chapter Three
"The hard part," Dean repeated. With a sigh, he muttered, "Why do I always get the hard part?"
Seemingly ignoring Dean's complaint, Castiel frowned, looking around with searching eyes. "Dean, have you seen any larger sources water?"
"Larger sources of water?" Dean's frown mirrored that of his angelic friend. "Exactly how much holy water do we need?"
"Like the demons who made it, this creature is not very fond of holy water," Castiel explained. "In fact, the right amount of holy water could kill it, freeing the girl and preventing our flesh from being devoured."
"It devours flesh?" Dean winced.
"Yes. It only needs one soul, and it has one." Castiel nodded toward the girl, who was now crouched on the cobblestone path of the labyrinth, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking and humming tunelessly. "It would prefer to feed on our flesh, not our souls." The angel sighed and looked beyond the girl, peering into the burgeoning shadows. "Dean, this creature is very large. It will take a lot of water."
"Okay. So let's find another water source." Dean took a step forward, green eyes darting around the maze, his fingers tightening around his small flask of holy water. He looked at the little flask and made a face. "Yeah. Let's find a bigger source…"
The ground suddenly shook beneath the hunter and the angel. A low growl, almost like thunder, seemed to vibrate the air around them. Dean shuddered-inside and out. This creature made him feel all kinds of scared. It reminded him of something from Hell… and he would know about that…
"These mazes always have some sort of creepy fountain with a naked angel baby pouring out water or something," Dean spoke up quickly. "Let's find it and- Hey!" He spun on Cas with a worried expression, his veins suddenly shot through with cold. "Cas, naked angel baby statues don't make water holy…"
"No." Castiel paused thoughtfully. Slowly, one corner of his mouth tilted upwards in a half smile. "But real angels do."
"Real angels. Like you!" Dean gripped his friend's arm. "Come on, Cas. It's time for you to go swimming." His eyes darted left to right, trying to discern where to go, which way would lead to the fountain…
"Left." Castiel nodded toward a tall hedge to the left. "There's a narrow opening there. I think I can hear water running in that direction."
Dean nodded determinedly. "Alright. Let's go."
They started across the courtyard. Dean cast a few anxious glances at the captive girl. She seemed to take no notice of them, still rocking and humming, her long hair draped over her face, stirring slightly in the biting wind. And then Dean saw the opening in the hedge and indeed heard the hopeful trickling of water. His spirits lifted, and a little warmth flooded back into his veins. Then-
BOOM!
The ground shook again, this time hard enough to knock both hunter and angel off of their feet. From where he sprawled against the hedge, Dean looked up and watched in horror as the shadows behind the creepy rocking girl convulsed, rippled, then spat forth a huge creature seemingly formed of dark clouds and simmering coals. It brought to Dean's mind a movie he had watched with Sam once. Now what was that thing called? Oh yeah…
Turning to Cas and trying to make himself heard over the rich rumbling of the creature's growls, Dean shouted, "You didn't tell me these demons had a freakin' Balrog for a pet!"
Sam swallowed hard, nervous for his brother. He could hear a low, rolling sound in the distance. At first he had thought it was thunder, but now… Now he wasn't so sure. Coupled with the fact that the ground was trembling ever so slightly, he judged that the sound was probably evidence of something dark and dangerous lurking in the maze…
"No sense in worrying, boy," came Bobby's reasonable drawl from behind him. "We can't get to 'em from where we're standin.' We have to keep movin.'"
And Bobby was right, Sam knew. The young hunter nodded. "I know. Let's keep going."
The two of them continued their journey down the leftward path, sharp pockets of cold air biting occasionally at their legs. The path was fairly smooth, but every once in a while, the wheels of Bobby's chair caught on a protruding brick or stone, and Sam caught a muttered curse from his older companion-which made him worry for Bobby almost as much as he was worrying for Dean and Cas…
Suddenly, something brushed against Sam's sense of danger. He stopped walking and turned to hold up a hand to Bobby. "Hang on, Bobby." He turned back around to face the misty path ahead. "Something's not right here."
"Oh really?" From the tone of Bobby's voice, Sam could tell the man was rolling his eyes. "You mean something is wrong-er."
"Yeah." Sam nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes on the misty path ahead. He swallowed hard, but that did nothing to soothe his sharp and sudden feeling of fear. "Bobby, you might want to get out a weapon…"
"Already did," the seasoned hunter replied. His shotgun cocked with a familiar click.
"Good." Sam reached into the pack on his shoulder and slowly withdrew a pistol. He tucked it into the waistband of his pants, then reached back into the pack for a vial of holy water, determined to be prepared for anything.
What he wasn't prepared for was a wendigo.
The huge shadow creature, glowing at the edges, lurched into the center of the courtyard area, towering over its captive soul. The girl in white increased the pace of her rocking, now whispering harshly, whispering in a language Dean didn't recognize.
Dean's grip tightened on the salt-loaded shotgun as he and Castiel inched toward the opening in the hedge. They were almost there—almost there—when a rumbling growl alerted the hunter and the angel that they had been spotted.
Dean spun around, pulling Cas with him, so that they were both facing the beast. The hulking shadow fixed its burning eyes on them, and its wide face split in a sharp-toothed grin, revealing a mouth and throat that seemed to be made of fire—and teeth that gleamed sharp.
"Uh… Cas…"
"Talk to it. Distract it," the angel told the hunter, taking a step back toward the hedge. "Shoot it with salt if you must, but that will only slow it down."
The monster took a step toward them, still grinning. It reached out with a clawed hand and pushed the dark-haired girl forward toward Dean and Castiel. At the creature's touch, the girl shrieked, but she obeyed and stumbled forward, glass heels clicking on stone.
"Cas, what are you-?"
"I'm going to try to get to the fountain before the creature gets to you," Castiel explained matter-of-factly.
Dean glanced over his shoulder and past the trench-coated angel, through the opening in the hedge. The opening led to a longer, narrower courtyard, this one empty save for a circular fountain in its center. A laughing, busty mermaid statue poured water from a shell into the wide limestone basin of the fountain. The mermaid was kind of hot…
"Be ready, Dean." Castiel's calm voice jerked Dean from his perusal of the statue.
"Right. I'm read." Dean stepped between the creature and Castiel. "Go now."
Castiel took off running toward the fountain.
Dean drew a deep breath—and hoped to inhale some courage along with the oxygen. "Hey, fugly!" he shouted up at the shadowy beast. "You let that girl go and take a hike back to hell!" He cocked his shotgun and aimed it at the beast's face… if he could call it a face. He could hear Castiel running behind him, pelting toward the fountain.
The Balrog-thing threw back its head and unleashed a bellowing howl that sounded almost like a deep trumpet. Vibrations from the sound shook the maze, and Dean was nearly thrown off balance. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed, with a wince, that Castiel had been knocked to his knees.
The Balrog's captive loosed a sob and fell to her knees, covering her ears and shaking.
Compassion for the girl—and fury for her tormentor—rose within Dean, and he took a step toward her. "Hey, I'm here to help you. Why don't you-?"
The creature laughed, then, and its laugh was worse than its howl, wicked and deep and sharp. This time, Dean couldn't keep his balance, and he stumbled to one knee, the butt of the shotgun banging painfully against his thigh. From the "oof" behind him, he figured that Castiel had fallen as well.
The girl flung herself flat on her stomach, arms outstretched, sobbing.
"Let her go!" Dean shouted at the creature, pushing himself up off the ground.
Still grinning, black saliva dripping from its wide mouth, the Balrog-thing bent over the girl and raised its hand. She flipped onto her back and stared up at the creature with wide eyes. The monster looked from Dean down to the girl, then back to Dean and extended one finger down over the girl, holding it close to her belly. The creature's eyes flickered yellow, and the girl screamed, arching up off the pavement.
Dean's insides twisted. "Stop hurting her, you bastard!" He stepped forward and fired.
The salt round struck the creature in the shoulder, and it staggered back only slightly, but the girl was released from whatever it had been doing to her. Her back dropped against the ground, and she laid panting for a moment, then moaned and rolled onto her side, clutching her belly.
Keeping his eyes on the creature, Dean moved closer to the girl. "Hey, you!" he called to her. "Come over here with me. Let me-!"
"No," the girl moaned, pushing herself up on her arms. She looked at Dean, and her dark eyes were glazed and distant. She shook her head. "No. I can't… I can't." She forced herself back to her feet, wincing and staggering in the glass shoes. She held a hand to her middle, but instead of moving closer to Dean, she stepped back toward the beast, head hanging down, hair falling around her face.
Dean gritted his teeth in frustration. The creature really had the girl in its grip for sure…
"Dean!"
At the sound of Castiel's voice, Dean whipped his head around. His hope flared back to life as he watched the soaking wet angel stagger out of the distant fountain.
Castiel motioned back to the water with his right arm, keeping his left arm close to his body for some reason. "The water is holy now!" he called to the hunter.
Dean didn't have to hear the news twice. He took off running as fast as he could toward the fountain, grabbing up the bag he'd dropped on the way.
"What can I do to help?" Castiel called as Dean came sprinting toward the opening in the hedge.
Before Dean could reply, a heavy force struck him from behind. He fell forward, striking the ground hard, his chin and ribs instantly throbbing. For a moment, bright lights danced in his blurred vision. Gasping, he staggered to his feet, realizing that the creature had struck him from behind.
"Dean! Hurry through the opening!" Castiel cried. "The creature cannot fit through!"
Panting, Dean burst through the opening in the hedge. He laughed as the Balrog roared in frustration behind him, nearly falling again as the roar shook the air. Still running, he reached into his pack, fumbling around until his fingers closed on a cool, rounded object.
"Look out!"
Castiel's warning came just in time. Dean turned to see the beast bursting through the hedge, leaves and sticks flying in all directions. The girl came crawling behind it, and the way she moved made Dean shiver for some reason.
The dark creature swatted out at Dean with a massive paw, and Dean ducked. One clawed finger caught him across the shoulder and sent him sprawling back against the fountain, the hard limestone driving the breath from his body. For a moment, the young hunter was stunned, unable to think of anything but breathing again. His lungs contracted painfully, and he kicked at the stone path.
A cold shadow fell across him, and Dean looked up into the glowing eyes of the Balrog-thing. It was gloating over him, enjoying the sight of him flopping and gasping like a fish out of water.
Water…
Water suddenly sprayed all around Dean, some of it sprinkling the dark creature's feet. The monster hissed and shrieked in pain, backing away from Dean, smoke rising from its burned feet.
Castiel was suddenly between Dean and the creature, his trench coat billowing around him like a hero's cape. The angel held out a hand to the shadow creature and said coolly, "You shall not pass."
Dean wondered if the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain had made him imagine that exact line coming from Castiel's mouth… And as he was wondering that, air finally burst into his lungs, causing him to cough and gasp painfully, but giving him the strength to rise.
The hunter and the beast moved at the same time. Dean reached into the fountain and loaded the empty holy water grenade just as the creature lunged forward, batting Castiel backward with its clawed hand. Castiel tumbled back into the fountain just as Dean drew the now-full grenade out of it. With a cry of both rage and pain, he lobbed the grenade at the Balrog-thing with all the strength he had left in his battered body.
The projectile hit the creature in the center of its chest right when Dean fell to his knees. He watched dazedly as the monster seemed to fold in on itself, its inner fire flickering, its shadowy flesh steaming and smoking. A breathy shriek rent the air as the beast shrank in on itself then melted down, down, down to the ground, leaving behind only a pile of black ash and one smoldering coal.
Then there was silence.
A smoky smell—not entirely unpleasant, Dean noted—drifted through the courtyard.
"Dean? Are you alright?" came a hoarse voice from behind him.
The hunter turned to see Castiel, soaked and shivering, climbing out of the fountain. The angel knelt beside him, and for a moment, the two men just stared at the little mound of ashes.
They both jumped when the dark-haired girl knelt in front of them. Dean noticed, relieved, that her large dark eyes appeared totally normal—and actually kind of pretty.
She looked back and forth between the two of them. "Thank-you," she said quietly.
"You're welcome," Dean and Castiel answered in unison.
Then Dean groaned and lowered himself further to the ground. His shoulder burned, and his back, chin and ribs throbbed. He looked at Castiel, who seemed pale. "You okay, Cas?"
Castiel looked down toward the left side of his body, then met Dean's gaze with a weak smile. "I think my shoulder may be fractured. And I am very cold and wet. But aside from that, I am… okay." He sat down gingerly, extending his legs in front of him and keeping his left arm and shoulder very still.
"Yeah, I may have a few cuts and bruises myself," Dean replied with a sympathetic wince. "I guess we should patch ourselves up before we rescue anyone else."
A sharp gasp drew both men's attention to the girl they had just rescued—their first success in the labyrinth, Dean reflected. She held a hand to her mouth, looking at the hunter and the angel with concerned. "You were both hurt rescuing me from that—that thing." She shuddered. "Oh, God, I am so sorry. I'll patch you both up. I'll help you. I'll—"
That was when she leaned forward and threw up all over Castiel's shoes.
Dean winced. Again. For a number of reasons. This was going to be one long rescue mission.