This is the chapter containing the most trigger warnings. I'd recommend skipping this chapter if you are easily triggered. Read with caution.

Chapter 3

Alastair's POV

I have a foster home for boys. The system gives me innocent little tasty morsels and I make them adults just like me. What they don't know is that I also steal little boys from their mommies. The stolen ones are the most fun. They're the ones who fight the longest, the ones who think that there's still hope. I take so much pleasure in breaking them. It's the ones given to me that are the smart ones. They have nobody who wants them. They know there's no hope. A couple of them fight. I love it when they fight. They snap quicker than the others. I think the two little ones I was given last week won't break. At least the oldest one won't. He's a fighter.

Dean Winchester is such an angry little thing. Almost ten years old and he's already beaten two boys bloody. He'd make a fine addition to my collection. I just have to break him. I think he'll be one of the ones I don't kill. I'll put him back together so he'll be like me. I've already made three mini-Alastair's. I just need to lure the Winchester in… He really seems to love his brother, Sam. Maybe I'll start there. I have a prostitute in my closet. He could dismember her in exchange for me not hurting his precious little brother. Then when he's older, twelve maybe, he can join my special group of boys. Thomas, Trevor, and Nelson. The boys I deflower.

Every night I educate my special group of boys on adult activities. They've all given up fighting and it's quite boring now. I love it when they thrash around screaming and crying. If they're lucky, I tie them to my bed and cut shapes into their bellies while I ride them. Oh, I can't wait until Dean is twelve. I have to have him now. The younger they are, the longer they fight, the more fun I have. I need to have him for the rest of the night. I'll kill the three boys I already have during our scheduled sessions. Thomas is the oldest at fifteen, and Nelson the youngest at thirteen. Too old, by heaven. I've had them for a year and a half. My, I've gone soft.

I peek around a corner into Dean's room. Aw, he's asleep next to Sammy. How disgusting. I close their door and lock it, hiding the key on the door sill. I shiver with excitement. I love new toys. They're so soft, fresh, innocent, and delicious when they're young and new. I grin. I just need to kill off my three special boys and then I can have Dean. I walk into Nelson's room. He doesn't look up when he sees me. He just stands up and takes his shoes off while I close and lock the door. He knows the drill. How boring.

I grab his face and kiss him. I am too used to his passionless response. I never get a lad who doesn't stop fighting and who doesn't give up. A shame, really. I think about how I'm going to kill him. Should I strangle him while I drive into him? Should I break his neck? Should I torture him? There are just too many good options! Oh, I know. I'll cut off his privates and let him bleed to death. Yes, that will do fine. And I'll have a souvenir! I lick his collar bone as I unbutton his red flannel.

"We're going to do things differently today," I moan into Nelson's ear while I remove his jeans.

I ruffle his black hair and Nelson stiffens, a minute reaction. I laugh as I sink to my knees and pull off his green boxers. Green, like the color of Dean's eyes. Yummy. My old toy shivers at the feeling of cold air touching him where I'll be very soon. He knows by now that change is not a good thing with me. I hug his naked body, running my hands along the underside of his legs and squeezing his butt cheeks. My nose is buried in his belly. I take in a deep breath through my nose and I smell his familiar scent. He smells vaguely of bacon, turnips, and lemonade. He smells delicious. I grope for the scars I've given him. They're not hard to find as they're quite large and there are many of them. I sure do love my knives.

Speaking of knives… I sit on my heels and lick my future trophy. He's soft, but I'm used to it. I've never had anybody who enjoys what I do to them. He looks down at me, his big brown eyes filling with tears. His curly black hair just barely covers his eyes. He is silently begging for me to stop. For me to let him go back tot the family I took him from all that time ago. I shake my head at his wordless plea. He knows what happens when he protests.

"I-is it… going to hurt?" he chokes out quietly, his high-pitched voice trembling.

All my boys haven't gone through puberty. They're no fun when they have. So I force their hormones not to kick in by starving them and hurting them when they age. It works so well.

I grin up at him. "Very much!" I say gleefully. I ignore the tears falling onto my head. I grab my trusty, rusty, blood-stained knife from under Nelson's bed and stand up. I keep it there because I always start with him. "Lay down on the bed."

"Back, side, or stomach?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Back." I need my future trophy to be facing me so I can easily cut it off.

He follows my orders. I get on the bed after him, straddling him and finding pleasure in the fact that he's naked and I'm fully clothed. I draw the tip of my knife from his chin to his pelvis. A long, thin line of blood is what is left behind. Nelson doesn't flinch, just watches me in fear with wide eyes. He knows what I'm going to do. He knows he can't stop it. He knows he's about to die. Yet he seems… relieved. This makes me very angry. I slowly hack off the goods, my jeans tightening as he screams. I silence him with a kiss. He bleeds slower than I though he would, but that's all right. I have my first trophy. I put it in a cup on his nightstand, never moving from my throne.

I nuzzle him as he dies, kissing his neck and then stabbing him where I kissed him. The gurgles of death are so beautiful when put together with the violent, involuntary spasms. By the time he finally dies, my pants are so tight it's almost painful. I consider baptizing his corpse with my cream but decide against it. I want to save myself for Dean. I bury Nelson in a shallow grave outside his window.

Time for the others.

20 MINUTES LATER

Digging graves is hard work. I'm glad I'm going to reward myself with Dean. My jeans and shirt are already blood-stained, so I don't bother changing my clothes. There's only going to be more blood. I unlock his bedroom door. Gag! The brothers are still sleeping cuddled up against each other. The prostitute's still in my closet. I think I'll begin his training right now. I grab Dean by the hair and drag him out of his bed and into my room. He wakes up instantly. His screams, despite being loud, don't wake his brother. I chuckle.

"LET ME GO!" Dean shouts, struggling against me as I kiss him. I was right. He is a fighter. My pants somehow grow even tighter and even more painful.

"No. You are going to learn the art of torture," I say proudly. "Taught by yours truly!" I add, beaming.

I tell him what to do to the prostitute after I drag her out of my closet. He doesn't do anything I've commanded him to do so I kill the prostitute. She was such a vile creature, begging for money by seducing men and women. Since Dean disobeyed, I have to punish him. He sure bleeds a lot for such a little guy. When my pants are no longer tight, they are pooled around my ankles. I pull them up as my new toy flees my bedroom. His runs, bow-legged. I drool at the sight of my cream dripping out of him.

Since I like Dean so much, I make sure to show him a good time twice a day. Every day. He never stops fighting and I love it. Maybe I should increase our sessions to five times a day. Yes, that's what I'll do.

3 MONTHS LATER

Dean finally gave up! I cracked him on his tenth birthday by threatening to do things to Sam. I also gave him beautiful scars on his belly. I cut stars. I cut extra deep so that they won't ever fade. I finally, after two and a half months of trying, broke Dean Winchester. For some reason, him not fighting me makes me want to do even more sessions with him. I've been playing with my broken toy ten times a day, watching him break more and more and more every time.

I think that he lets me play with him to protect little Sammy (who is too young for my tastes at six). It's working, too. I threaten to play with his brother every session. To make the younger Winchester my new toy if he doesn't stop fighting me. It works like a charm. I watch something shatter inside of my special little boy every single time. I remember his birthday, when I broke him.

"Stop fighting!" I yelled, blocking his tiny fists. "I was only trying to get you naked! I want to wish you happy double-digits!"

"STOP DOING THIS TO ME!" Dean cried, trying to pull his pants back up. "LEAVE ME ALONE YOU BASTARD!"

I smacked him, causing his lip to bleed. Damn it. I love the face. The face is the only part I don't slice and dice with my knives. I feel a sense of angry calm wash through me. I say in a monotone, "Look what you made me do. You're bleeding. I have to punish you now."

I licked the blood off of his soft pink mouth. I pinned him to my bed and held his arms above his head. I ripped his clothes off before he could react and start fighting again. I pulled out my knife.

"Please! Please stop! Let me and my brother go!" Dean sobbed, sucking in his stomach in resistance to my knife poised to slice his belly. "Please. Stop."

I saw myself reflected in his eyes. My blonde hair was almost brown from being unwashed. It hung in dread locks that reached my shoulders. My normally blue eyes were almost completely black, my pupils blown wide with lust. My teeth were stained from my lack of brushing them after biting into his flesh and drawing blood. Sweat and blood mixed on my face, on my whole, naked body. My hips jutted out and I could count my ribs if I wanted to. I hadn't seen what I looked like in days. I'd been cutting my beard with scissors so it wouldn't cover Dean's face while I played with him.

I looked past my reflection into Dean's soul. I saw something in his forest green eyes. Something fragile teetering on a ledge. Something about to fall. It was held up by something… Anger? Fury? Hope? No… he thought he deserved my love. Since he survived the fire while his parents didn't. For bringing his brother with him to this place. Ah, I could see it then. He wasn't breaking because of his love for little Sammy Winchester. Dean felt that he needed to be strong for his brother so the younger Winchester wouldn't share the same fate. I grinned, knowing that I would snap him there and then.

I put my complete weight on his body so I could whisper in his ear, "If you don't do everything I tell you to, I will hurt your precious little Sammy. I will fuck him harder than I fuck you. I'll put my dick in his tiny little asshole and empty myself into him while I use my fingernails to scrape his skin off. I will cut off all of his fingers and toes. I will scoop his eyeballs out with a spoon and make him eat them. I will cut off his tongue and shove it up his ass. I will get my sharpest, rustiest knife and use my cock to jam it into his asshole and pump it into his intestines so he bleeds to death. I will kill Sam if you don't stop fighting me."

I kept my eyes locked on his as I threatened to kill his brother. His resolve wasn't as strong as his devotion for his brother. I watched something inside of his soul shatter. Dean's eyes glazed over as if he was no longer in his body. His distant eyes flickered to the window. I looked just in time to watch a shooting star fly by. I grinned and cut ten stars into the soft, warm flesh of his belly. I almost got a nosebleed at the sight of his eyes filling with tears and spill onto his face. I laughed in glee. I did it! I broke Dean Winchester!

"Lay down on your stomach," I ordered, allowing him the room he needed to flip over.

I entered him and I knew right away that I liked broken Dean way more than fighting Dean. I didn't even try to be gentle. I loved it when he couldn't walk properly because of me. I gave him love bites. The bruises formed almost instantly. I reached climax sooner than usual. I shuddered and moaned Dean's name. I got off of him.

"Stand up," I commanded.

He complied, getting off of my bed and standing in front of me.

"Kiss me," I said, bending down so he could touch his lips to mine.

Without hesitation he pressed his lips to mine. I felt him mumble, "For my brother." I chose to ignore that and pulled away.

"Happy tenth birthday my special little boy. Now bend over."

I'm going to start rebuilding him so he turns out like me. I taught him through kinetic education, now he's going to apply what he learned onto an eight-year-old girl I kidnapped for him. I lead him to Nelson's old bedroom where the girl is tied to the bed. I watch Dean stare at her naked form with no expression at all. I dock ten points. He's supposed to be having fun and enjoying himself. I know I do.

Sirens wail faintly in the distance. His eyes, usually glazed over, seem to focus for the first time in three weeks. I fail him for the hope he's feeling. By his posture I can tell that he knows it's false hope, so I give him twenty points of extra credit. He seems to go for intimidation; the girl wets herself at the sight of Dean slowly removing his jacket, socks, and shoes. The sirens grow louder still, my student moving slower and slower as the noise grows louder and louder. Weird. The police don't usually come this way.

"Hurry up, Dean!" I groan. I'm anxious to watch my student blossom into a younger version of myself. Just like how my father shaped me into the man I am today. The sirens stop and I hear car doors slam. Shit.

"POLICE! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!"

"Shit," I hiss under my breath.

The police break down the front door. They'll find us in about ten seconds. I turn to Dean, deadly calm.

"Fuck you, you little faggot. You fucking called them. I'm going to kill you, like you deserve. Then I'm going to kill your faggot brother. I should've fucked him when I had the chance."

I'm reaching for my knife when I feel a pain in my right temple. My vision blurs and I crumple to the floor. My vision goes red. I look around me. I'm in Hell. Such a marvelous place. I look behind me and see and angel sitting on a magnificent throne. This is Hell, why is an angel here? The angel smiles at me.

"How would you like to become a demon and completely fuck up Dean Winchester's life?" The angel asks me.

"I'd fucking love to."