A/N: The idea of doing a Soulless!Sam kiss is something I found incredibly intriguing. There was one familiar face that was a last minute addition...I think after reading this you'll know who it was and be able to guess why...
As always...thank you to pal stephaniew for supporting my efforts.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Chapter 8: Gina
They circle each other, the hunter and his prey. The raven haired demon moves with cat-like precision. She knows the danger of the man before her, knows that he's an empty vessel.
The old Sam Winchester - the one who had run with her sisters Meg and Ruby - would have tried to save the meat sack she inhabited. Through exorcism or the use of his telekinetic powers, he would have dispelled her true form from the body of the Sunday school teacher. Poor thing would wake up in the leather bustier and tight pants not knowing what hit her, but she might've been able to work the package to her advantage.
But this Sam - the upgraded soulless model - was unpredictable, merciless really. He was unafraid to shed the blood of innocents in furtherance of the cause. The only chance she has is to disarm him of the knife tucked into the back of his belt. A weapon she hopes he isn't aware she's noticed.
She lunges at him, her mouth meeting his as she tries to distract him. She'd heard things from Ruby. Heard the wild things Sam could and had done with his mouth that rocked her in ways she hadn't thought possible. And as he grabs her hair, tugging her head back roughly, she feels it.
She feels the heat of a body made for wicked and immoral deeds. Feels the body of the woman she inhabits responding to it. Feels the thick black threads of lust and desire threading through her veins, sewing her up in sinful knots of pleasure the more vicious and threatening he becomes. Her stomach twists in painfully and all hedonism fades as she stumbles back and away.
A slow, yet undeniably diabolical, smile spreads across his face as he watches her fall, watches as she stumbles to her knees. A red glow spreads through her chest and up through her throat. It glimmers from her open mouth as her vessel's eyes grow dark. Drawing the knife from her belly - the knife she recognizes as a demon blade - it clatters from her blood-soaked fingers to the floor.
He watches with rapt fascination as she falls in a heap. Picking up the weapon and wiping it against the front of his shirt, he slips it back into the casing at his back. One less demon to contend with. One more innocent soul lost.
He's as cold as the body lying on the floor and - not for the first time since his return - he feels absolutely nothing...
Next up: Jo...yeah, okay, I get that she's gone...but if you are at all familiar with my writing you know my muse ships Jo and Dean, so...bear with me?