so, new chappy!! hope everyone is enjoying the story so far!! thanks so much for reading and all the awesome reviews!! i really love and live for them!! thanks again!! bambers;)
Chapter Eight
Sam was shaken out of his deep drug induced sleep by the acrid scent of smoke filling the night air and stinging at his eyes. Feeling intense heat rising from somewhere beneath him, Sam was instantly on alert. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he desperately tried to escape from the scorching heat, but found his upper arms and wrists were pinned out to the sides by thick coarse ropes and his feet had been firmly bound together. Fear gripping a hold of him, Sam curled his fingers inward, bending his wrists to try and get at the ropes, but couldn't manage it.
"Guhh . . . come on damn it," he growled through clenched teeth as he twisted his hands in an effort to get to the ropes, but still had no better luck than the first time.
A stiff cold breeze fed the flames, and they rose higher, illuminating the gathering of people standing in a circle around the wooden cross he'd been tied to. One man with long dark hair stepped forward, and glanced up at Sam while the rest bowed their heads reverently.
"Back in the day, they burned witches at the stake," he said, cocking a brow as a wicked grin slowly spread across his face. "Not that I believe in witches, mind you, and I highly doubt the people back then did either." He chuckled, and one by one the rest of his followers did as well, until all Sam could hear was the roar of flames and the wicked sound of demented laughter. "No, I think more-than-likely they just burned the bitches that vexed them . . . you know, people who were a real pain in the ass, much in the same way as you have been to me."
"Where's my brother, you freakin' sonuvabitch," Sam growled as he yanked viciously on the ropes. His strength rapidly gave out on him, and he hung limply from the cross they had erected to burn him from.
"Think I would be more worried about yourself at the moment, Boy." The dark-haired man turned his back on Sam, and addressed the people around the fire. "Children, this is Boy," he motioned toward Sam, and then continued, "he believed himself intelligent enough to outsmart me, and failed miserably." He swung back to face Sam, an evil smirk settling on his features as he added, "Didn't you, Boy?"
"Name's Sam, you freakin' bastard."
"No, it's Boy. No more than a little child playing pretend at being a grown up."
"Gonna kill you when I get free," Sam snarled as he tugged on the ropes that dug deeply into his wrists and biceps.
"The only way you're going to get free is if I decide to keep you, and I'm not so sure you are worth the effort."
The wind kicked up, fanning the growing flames that licked hungrily at the base of the cross, edging their way up toward Sam's bare feet. Panicking, Sam trashed around violently, but his efforts only succeeded in wearing him out all-the-quicker.
In the crowd of people, Sam spied Dawn and their eyes locked briefly before she quickly lowered her head. "Dawn," he hoarsely shouted out to her, "don't let them do this . . . you have to know this is wrong."
Dawn glanced back up at him, her blue eyes filled of sadness and regret. Slowly she took a tentative step forward only to have the madman pin her to her spot with one steely glare.
"Morning Dawn, come here," the dark-haired man commanded, and she instantly obeyed. "Give me your hand." A look of fear and dread overwhelmed her delicate features as she reluctantly complied. Her body visibly trembled as he dragged her over to the fire, and Sam struggled more fervently at the ropes, trying to get to her. Moving to stand behind her, the man grabbed her forearm and forced her to hold her hand over the flames.
"Sam," she cried out as the crazed man pushed her hand further down into the fire. A scream of pain burst from her lips as he continued to hold it in the flames, her fingers burning as she desperately tried to break free of his hold on her.
"Damn it, leave her the hell alone!" Sam hollered, fear coiling in his heart that she would die because of him. As he helplessly watched Dawn writhing around with tears streaming down her face, the image of Jessica burning on the ceiling came to mind. Another woman was going to burned to death because of him. He just couldn't let that happen. "You wanna kill me, go ahead. Just leave her the hell alone."
The man released his hold on Dawn, and a bald-headed man rushed forward and quickly covered her burning hand with a jacket, extinguishing the flames. As the man led her away from the crowd, Sam saw her look back over her shoulder at him before they disappeared from his view.
The dark-haired man's steely gaze followed Sam's to where Dawn had been, and then he looked back at Sam. "My name is Father, and you will always address me as such. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yeah, you wanna be called asshole." Sam squeezed his eyes shut tightly, a hiss of pain escaping him as the crackling flames licked at his feet. "Heard ya loud and clear," he managed to choke out, before another cry of pain burst forth from his lips.
"Douse the flames," the Father order as a mirthless laugh issued from his lips, "I've decided to keep him for the time being." He strode away from the fire with all the girls following behind him, and called back over his shoulder, "Lock him up and I'll be around later to begin his indoctrination."
Heated steam rose up to burn Sam's face and body as the men threw buckets of water on the flames, dousing them. Kicking away the burning embers from around where Sam was hanging, one of the men braced his booted foot against the weakened cross and pushed hard, knocking it to the ground. Sam's head slammed hard against the wooden post, pain wracking his already bruised and battered body. Sparks of light danced before his eyes momentarily before he darkness closed in all around him.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
"You pose an interesting dilemma for me," the Father said in a low menacing tone, rousing Sam from his deep sleep. "Probably should've just killed you, but I've always liked a good challenge."
Sam shivered as cool air traveled over his body, and realized he was naked and shackled to the floor in a kneeling position. His shaggy bangs covered his one good eye, making it hard for him to clearly see the man who knelt beside him.
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" he growled through clenched teeth, and grimaced when the older man reached over and dug his hand into Sam's injured side.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam trembled as he let out a low hiss of pain. The Father dug his fingers deeper into Sam's flesh, and grinned when Sam squirmed beneath them. Feeling as if heated daggers were piercing his skin, an involuntarily cry escaped Sam. He bit down on his lower lip, breathing hard against the searing pain wracking his body.
"See, none of the tactics I would normally use to bring a new member into the family will work on you," the Father said as he removed his hand from Sam's side. "You know I have your brother. So can't very well say that he isn't coming to find you, cause well, that would be just ridiculous seeing that he is already here."
"Where the hell is he?" Sam glared at the man, hating his smirking grin and overly confident manner.
"Maybe I should clarify, Boy," the Father hesitated as he glanced around the darkened cellar, and then looked back to Sam. "Can't keep you two both in the same place, now can I? My newest child needs to grow into the family, and with you around that just wouldn't be possible."
"Dean would never give into you. He's stronger than that."
"Those who appear the strongest on the outside, oftentimes are hiding deep seething insecurities that if played upon in just the right way will shatter the person completely." The Father chuckled mirthlessly as he gripped a hold of Sam's chin and forced him to look the man in his pale blue eyes. "Underneath it all, your brother was pathetically weak. His need to be loved and needed by you was his undoing."
"That's not true." Sam jerked his head away, and shook it vehemently. "You're lying. Dean's the strongest person I know, he just wouldn't . . . couldn't . . . ." his voice trailed off as he thought of how much he and their father meant to Dean. Sam couldn't even begin to imagine the lengths Dean would go to in order to protect him from danger. And he was grudging forced to admit that it almost seemed at times that it was all his older brother had to live for. If Dean had thought Sam didn't care, had left him to the hands of this madman, would he given in to the man?
"I can see by the look in your eyes that you know it's true. Without you, your brother was pathetically easy to manipulate," the Father taunted. "Little baby brother didn't care about him. In truth, you're the one who crushed him irreparably, you're the one who dealt the final killing blow." He drew in a deep breath, allowing time for his words to sink in fully before adding, "How does it feel to hold that much power over one single person? Bet you really like wielding it over him, don't you?"
Sam swallowed hard, thinking of all the times that he'd used a single look to get Dean to do whatever he'd wanted him to do. Even when they were kids and he'd wanted something as simple as the last bowl of cereal from the box, all he had to do was give his brother a sad little puppy dog look, and Dean would give in."You don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Oh, I think I know exactly what I'm talking about, and you know I'm right, too." He let out a short barking laugh as Sam lowered his head, ashamed at what he done to Dean. "Call it what you like, Boy, but you've been manipulating your brother all your life. Pulled his strings . . . played on the same weaknesses that I did . . . what makes you any better than me?"
"I'm not like you."
"Huh, really," the Father said as he once again glanced around the room, his steady gaze taking in all the things he'd used to torture people into joining his cult, and then his gaze settled back on Sam. "You know, I can torture a man until he breaks physically, but his mind," he tapped at his temple, "his mind is still his own, until I find a way in. How long did it take you to worm your way into your brother's mind . . . to take it over completely until there was nothing left of him, and it was all about you?"
Sam's lips quivered as he lowered his head even further to the ground, not wanting to hear anymore of what the man had to say. "Jus' stop . . . it's not like that . . . I would never . . . you're tryin' to confuse me."
"Admit it, Boy, you're every bit as evil as me, if not more so. You took your brother's love for you and turned it against him."
"Not true, I care about my brother."
"No, you love that you can manipulate him. I bet it's always been about you hasn't it? Your wants . . . your needs . . . did you ever once stop to think about him?"
Sam thought of the look on his brother's face when he'd told Dean he was going to Stanford. In his brother's green eyes, Sam saw how much it broke him, and yet he'd left for college anyway. And the night Dean had come to find him because their father was missing, instead of showing Dean how glad he was to see him, he'd been cruel and cutting toward him. "I've always thought about . . . cared about Dean."
"Somehow I doubt that very much. If you did, he wouldn't have broken so easily. You're the one who shattered him . . . broke him . . . made him weaker than the smallest of babies."
"Not true."
"Admit it. You've been killing your brother over and over again since the day you were born."
"No, I haven't."
"He's weak and pathetic because of you."
"No."
"You like that he's weak. Like that you can manipulate him. Like that you hold all the power. It makes you feel important, doesn't it."
"Ye — No!" Sam squinched his eyes closed, trying his damnedest to block out what the man was saying. "Not gonna let you confuse me."
The Father gripped a hold of Sam's hair, and yanked his head backward, forcing Sam to look up at him. "When it comes right down to it, you would choose your needs over your brother every time. You are selfish . . . cruel . . . and deserve to suffer." The Father's eyes narrowed on him as he licked his thin, pale lips as if in anticipation. "You've hurt one of my children and I've decided that I'm going to make you suffer the likes of which you've never experienced before. Going to torture you over and over again, until there is nothing left of you." With that said, the Father stood and strode away, leaving Sam alone with all his fears and overwhelming guilt.