The song here is "Holding on to Hell" by Gin Wigmore

Holding on to Hell

Crowley's hands were dripping with blood, but he wouldn't end it just yet. He had done almost everything he knew on Stephanie and she still clung to her statement that he knew nothing. It sounded as if she was trying to convince herself of that and Crowley would just mockingly agree with her.

He would carve sigils into her skin to make sure she wouldn't die just yet and then rip into her, digging inside and pulling out muscles and bones, enjoying her screams. At this point, she was even too exhausted to scream; she would just cry and stubbornly cling to her belief the King of Torture knew nothing at all.

"I'm not afraid." She mumbled and Crowley smacked her cheek with a grin.

"Ah, finally a change of tune." He said and turned to the counter, bringing forward a silver bullet he had made when he had melted an angel blade. He pushed it into the wound he had made in her forehead and he watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she gasped like a corpse that was on the brink of returning to life, desperately drawing in oxygen.

"Now, tell me about your plans for my son." He said and her eyes slowly came out of her skull, but then turned black, like she was reminding herself that she was a demon and not some pathetic and weak human.

"You haven't broken me." Stephanie said weakly and he grinned darkly, staring into the darkness of her eyes, as if staring into the essence of what she is.

"But I'm getting so close." He replied and continued his torture. He used a dull blade and cut away at her skin, peeling off layers of skin and tissue. He continued until she cried, like she was finally broken. For good measure, he tortured her again, pouring salt and holy water into her body, or what was left of it. He would have to wipe away her blood just to see where he hadn't touched her skin, which was near to having removed her skin like removing the wrapper of a delicious chocolate waiting to be devoured.

"Enough." She mumbled, blood dripping from her mouth. It came out as more of a sound than a word and he leaned in, acting like he didn't hear anything. Stephanie repeated the word, revealing how weak she was.

"Are you broken?" he asked and she remained silent and still. Crowley stood straight and kept his eyes low on her, as if telling her he had her life in his hands and he could quickly extinguish it without a care. "Tell me your plans for my son." He said and when she remained silent, he poured holy water into her, making her cry.

"You'll only kill me, so why should I answer you." She said, barely audible. Crowley could admire her determination, but it also irritated him. She was wasting precious time and he just wanted to kill her at this point.

"Or I could keep you alive, torture you, until it drives you mad." He replied and she moaned as if she could already feel the agony of that idea. "Perhaps tell your little friends that you told me everything and let them kill you." He said and she slowly looked up at him and managed a grin, but it was pathetically weak.

"You can threaten me, but you'll never see it coming." She said and he lowered his face to her, his eyes turning red as his rage boiled.

"That's what the others said. Trust me, Pet, that tells me all I need to know about your little rebellion." He said and then she lost all attitude, realizing that he might just know a part of the plan. "Distractions are futile." He concluded and he plunged a dull blade, soaked in holy water and dipped into salt, into her chest, making her tremble as she fought against a scream.

At that moment, Crowley's red essence began to emerge from his vessel and began to slip into Stephanie's mouth as she wiggled against the bindings, protesting. He only entered her vessel far enough to reach into her essence, into her vessel's memories, and see what she had done like it was a home movie. Although this felt him exposed and slightly vulnerable, she was too weak to do anything.

When his essence returned to his vessel, she shuttered as he glowered at her. She was terrified although she tried to keep that tough and untouchable façade.

"Should have done that to start with." She said, knowing know that Crowley had seen her memories, as much as she tried to block him out. He let out a dark chuckle and she fought against looking into his eyes.

"And what fun would that provide us?" he asked and walked over to the counter, washing off all the blood. He cleaned up as much as he could, ignoring Stephanie's pathetic attempts to prove that he knew nothing. Once things were clean, he pulled out a large body bag from the cabinet and unfolded it on the floor, unzipping it and making sure it was ready.

He untied her arms and legs, tipped the metal slab and watched as she fell into the body bag like chunks of meat. She groaned as pain ripped through her, especially when she tried to move. He walked over and began to zip up the bag.

"Kill me." she said, but Crowley ignored her. He walked over to the door and opened it, telling Nikolai to put her back in her cell. "Kill me!" she roared with the remnants of her dignity.

Nikolai took one end and dragged her behind him, back to her cell. She begged for him to end her, but he laughed it off.

"So much for not being afraid." He said, laughing as she cried in pain. "Reverse psychology, Babe. If you want to die, ask Crowley to live. But, you wanted to take your secrets to the grave, only your grave is a rubber bag of a Limbo, locked away in a cell." He said and tossed her inside the cell, grinning at the sickening sound and at her moaning in pain. "Good luck dying." He said and closed the door, listening to her scream until the door locked, turning her screams into silence.

Her plunge into madness had just begun.