Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
I'm really being evil to poor Odette, aren't I?
But hell is hell.
Nothing I can do. :P
And there's a reference to Inheritance by Christopher Paolini.
See if you can catch it.
Chapter title borrowed from Cannibal Corpse.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
On with it, shall we?
CHAPTER THREE- EATEN FROM INSIDE
Jared is gone- wheeled away into the night.
If there is any night in hell.
Someone else has taken his place- a woman, that is all I can gather, in the dim light of my room.
Alistair has not started on her yet- but someone else has.
Her body is streaked with blood, yet she does not scream.
I can only admire her restraint- I do not have it.
Alistair walks into my room, but this time he carries nothing but a knife and a box.
A box which is moving.
Dread fills me as Alistair makes a wide slit in my arm.
He tips something out into his hand.
An insect.
No, that's not the word.
I don't know what it is, but it emits a shrill scree-skroo noise as it flits across Alistair's hands.
And suddenly I understand what his plan is.
I struggle on my rack, not caring that the nails rip into my skin even further.
I am terrified.
Alistair holds me fast, smiling widely.
"So you do know what this is."
I struggle even harder-but it is futile.
The thing, whatever it is, crawls inside my arm.
The pain is instantaneous.
I scream, ripping my vocal chords apart, as it slips inside my skin.
Alistair watches silently, with crossed arms.
He savors every minute of my torture.
My hate for him grows impossibly greater.
So does my fear.
I scream in agony.
I can feel it, whatever it is, burrowing inside my skin, eating it's way through my body.
It is excruciating.
I writhe, my body arching off the rack, foolishly making my pain worse.
It digs in deeper, leaving my flesh swollen and inflamed.
This continues for what feels like an eternity.
Eventually Alistair gets bored, and pulls it out.
He leaves without a second glance.
I keep screaming.
The woman in the corner starts talking.
"How... how do you know Castiel?" She rasps.
I realize I have been screaming his name for the past hours.
Or years.
It certainly feels like it.
I don't answer her- the pain is enough already.
"I just do," I say.
"You scream his name when you are afraid," She notes.
I close my eyes.
The ache is so much worse.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
How does she know Cas?
I can see her a lot more clearly now.
Bloodied and battered as she is, the woman commands respect.
She is not beautiful- far from it, not with her agate grey eyes and cornsilk hair.
But she is striking- she manages to look strong, even here, in hell.
And that's when I notice the wings nailed down on either side of her.
Of course she was an angel, who else would know Cas?
"Who are you?" I repeat.
The angel's eyes bore into mine, and I am forcefully, painfully reminded of Cas.
"My name is Amitiel. I am the angel of truth."
"Nice to meet you," The sarcasm in my voice is poorly concealed.
"I'm Odette Slessor."
"Welcome to hell," I add bitterly.
Amitiel laughs wryly.
"What did you do to get here?" I ask.
Amitiel's eyes darken.
"I rebelled. I disobeyed a direct order from my superior. I thought it was too brutal. So I was cast down here."
I strain to see her face in the fog.
"And your superior was..."
She knows what I want to say.
"It wasn't Castiel, he would never send anyone down here. Someone else."
"Uriel," She spits out.
She turns to look at me.
"What about you?"
I do not look her in the eyes.
"Nothing. Alistair pulled me in here."
"But that's-"
"Against the rules, I know," I interrupt. "They don't seem to matter here."
Amitiel stares at me, and suddenly, her eyes widen.
"It's you. It has to be. Why else would anyone..."
My eyes narrow in confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
She looks at me, astonished.
"You don't know. You don't know you're the descendant of Metatron?"
I am lost.
"Who's Metatron?"
She ignores me.
"You have to get out. You just have to, or..."
"Or what?"
"Or Lilith unleashes the devil."