Sam drifted in a perfect blackness that was neither warm nor cool, where he seemed weightless, ceased to feel any sensation against his skin, where he was limbless and without bones. A tenuous thread of thought linked him to his corporeal self and that thought was one of pain. Pain was slicing across the back of his head with every beat of his heart. Pain was tearing through his skull.

With the comprehension of discomfort, other sensations floated back to the surface. Sam's hands were bound behind his back, numb. He wished he wasn't accustomed to the sensation, but there was no mistaking it. He wiggled his toes experimentally. His ankles were bound, too. He was propped up against something solid and heavy. Controlling his breathing so he still appeared comatose, Sam listened.

Drip, drip, drip. Leaking pipe. Rattling breaths. Dean or the security guard nearby. A dragging scrape against stone. No. Slithering.

"I know you're awake."

The voice cut through Sam's pain like a punch. The tone was amused, the pitch light and feminine. Sam's stomach tightened with fear. He debated playing the unconscious victim for a little longer, but he didn't know if his noncompliance would anger the creature.

Sam opened his eyes. The first thing he realized was he was tied against one of the pipe clusters protruding from the concrete to the right of the long table. The second thing: the monster was looking down at him. Eyes becoming impossibly wide, Sam took all of her in.

Her face broke out into a slow, sensual smile, exposing her set of glinting venomous fangs. "Hi there."

She was a-

Naga.

Sam had heard of the legends of the Naga from dusty old tomes at Bobby's place. If he recalled, Nagas were human-snake hybrids common in Eastern cultures and religions. The old hunter informed Sam that Nagas truly were myths and that they didn't have to worry. There ain't no such thing. There might be, Bobby. Well, if there is, I sure don't wanna meet one. Sam vowed the first thing he would do when he got out of here was tell the old man that there was yet another monster from myth that turned out to be real.

From head to waist the monster was a human female. She wore a long-sleeved pastel pink top. Her brunette hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves. Adorning her ears were hooped golden earrings. Her eyes were baby blue, the iris narrowed down to cat-like slits. On her hands Sam noticed her fingernails were black, sharpened into claws. On both her wrists she wore sparkling diamond bracelets. She looked strangely familiar. Despite the distinct signs of her alienness, she looked like the type of woman to volunteer at an animal shelter or be the first in line to sign up for the chaperone list for her son's class fieldtrip.

Then it hit him: she was the woman in the photographs.

Below her waist was all snake. All twenty plus feet of it. Her snake half was enormous. Even with Sam's own gangly, oversized limbs, he didn't know if he could wrap his arms around the thickest section of it. The scales adorning it were an iridescent cobalt-lime. The body coiled and shifted, her powerful abdomen muscles contracting and releasing. He peered over the unique pattern.

"Do you like what you see? I'm surprised you're not screaming by now. They usually start screaming after a second."

Sam's gaze snapped to her face. He felt like a bird trapped by her predatory stare. She drew her lips back from her teeth, smiling teasingly. "What, cat got your tongue?"

"Where are they?" Sam's voice was gruff from disuse, bouncing off the walls and echoing back at him. "What did you do with them?"

"Who, your friends?" Her smile grew wider. She nodded down to her snake half, licking her bottom lip. "In here," she cooed, "And, man, were they delicious."

Sam's heart plummeted into his stomach, his gaze locking onto her thick lower half. A cold, clammy sweat broke out across his nape, dampening his senses. No, no, no. Dean couldn't be dead. Not his big brother.

"I ate them right up. You should've been there. They were feisty, especially that cute one." She chuckled.

Dean. Eaten. Dean. Dead.

Sam shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His eye sockets were ablaze. A single tear squeezed from under his lid, leaking down his cheek. He must've made a sharp groan of grief because the Naga straightened, flipping her hair over her shoulder, amused.

"Relax, relax. I'm just pulling your leg." She snorted, "One's right there and the other one is back behind you a few paces."

Sam's eyes fluttered open, his heart racing. He turned to his left and sure enough, Mateo was bound to a pipe near the entrance of the room. There was a nasty bruise on his head, and he was slouched over, unconscious. Sam tried desperately to spot Dean over his shoulder, but he noticed a thick coil of rope was wrapped around his waist, keeping him secured to the cluster of pipes.

"Dean!" He shouted, straining against his constraints. "Dean!"

"Calm down." She sighed contemplatively. "Before I really decide to have him for dinner."

Sam snapped his mouth closed, turning back around. He shot daggers in the Naga's direction. "Why isn't he answering?"

"What do you think?" She raised a manicured eyebrow. "He's knocked out cold."

Sam licked his lips, glancing to the men in the cage pressed up against the wall. There was a thick padlock on the pen's door. The captives were all sitting down, chomping on what looked like ground up mush. Oatmeal? Bruises marred their sweaty, filthy bodies. Their nudity was grotesque to Sam. Why strip them of their clothes? The aroma floating from the enclosure was that of sweat and blood and piss. A couple men watched Sam with mild disinterest. Again, Sam wondered if the Naga had done this before, if he wasn't the first fool to step into her lair.

A shift of scales brought Sam back to the Naga. She shimmied her hips and dropped down lower, balancing on her plump snake base, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, what to do with you. What to do?"

Sam's thoughts scrambled. He was tied up, Dean was unconscious somewhere behind him, and their backpacks were nowhere in sight. The situation wasn't looking pretty.

"What are they?" Sam blurted, aiming for buying time. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least understand this monster, what her motives were, how she ticked.

"What?" The creature's brow furrowed. Sam looked at the caged men. The Naga followed his sight line.

"Oh, they're my slaves." She smirked. The two men quickly turned back to their food.

"Your…slaves?" Sam replied, brow furrowing. He didn't know many-if any-monsters they'd faced kept human slaves.

"I don't want to talk about them," she said, uncrossing her arms. "I want to talk about you."

"Me?" Sam said, pulling sharply at the thick coils of rope ensnaring his wrists, attempting to find a weak point.

"What's your name?"

Sam pursed his lips together. He didn't owe this monster a single thing. Plus, who knew? Maybe she possessed magic properties and revealing his name could give her access to hurt him further. Her friendly appearance rapidly melted into frustration. His fingers froze behind his back.

In a viper quick movement, the Naga bent down. Her lower half twisted so she was lowered inches from Sam's face. Her breath was hot and gamey. She bared her fangs, a hiss whistling between her teeth. Every single hair lifted on Sam's arms. His stomach felt rock hard, his heartbeat sputtering.

"I said, 'what's your name?'" The Naga hissed. Sam could see his bound reflection in her sapphire eyes.

"Sam." Sam said through gritted teeth. "It's Sam."

The Naga sniffed. "Well, Sam, can you tell me what you're doing down in my home?"

"I…we're…" Sam began. The Naga rose back onto her snake half, poised away from Sam.

"Spit it out."

"We're homeless. Just trying to find a place to stay."

"Ha," she ran a clawed hand through her hair. "You think I'm stupid? You're not homeless. If you were, why do you have that pig with you." She jerked her head towards Mateo.

"He followed us in here."

"That doesn't explain your weapons." She continued, shifting backwards and pulling Dean's backpack from underneath the table. She tossed it at Sam's feet. The bag was empty. Sam could tell by the lack of sound. All the saliva dried in Sam's mouth. He hooked his left thumb out of the rope, wincing at the throbbing pressure the move placed on his digit.

"You know what I think?" She gave him a mock sympathetic expression. "I think you're a hunter."

Sam swallowed thickly. "Yeah?"

She nodded slowly, "Yeah, I sure do."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Sam bit out. "You gonna kill us?"

The Naga blinked, caught off guard by Sam's hostile tone. "You know, all the hunters I've met through the years, they turn to mush when they meet me. But not you. Why is that, Sam?"

Sam glared, "I've met monsters way worse than you."

The Naga flinched, quickly regaining her composure. She slithered closer to him. "I'm not a monster."

"Evidence proves otherwise."

The Naga glared. For a long while they simply stared at each other. Unsettled by her gaze, Sam looked at the table behind her, at the array of jewelry that sat among the candles.

"Are they the ones that stole all those jewels?"

"Who?"

Sam jerked his head back at the captive men.

"Yes," the Naga hissed, smirking. "They did. They serve my needs. All my needs." Her expression became heated. A pink, wet tongue darted out, moistening her bottom lip. She dipped closer to Sam, hovering over him.

Sam didn't want to know what all entailed. Sam's thoughts galloped. Was Dean awake by now? It was hard to tell. If he were awake and silently attempting to break from his ropes, then maybe they had a chance. If he could distract her, perhaps it would buy Dean time. But then what? What good would that do? They were clearly outmanned and outmatched. Sam bit the inside of his cheek.

"What's the point of stealing all that jewelry?"

"I like pretty things." She said and reached out one clawed fingernail to slowly drag it down Sam's cheek. Sam jerked his head back and to the side. She chuckled playfully.

"I like my home to feel like my home, you know?" She continued.

Sam had never really had a home. Dean was his home. The open road was his home. It was hard to sympathize with the beast.

"When they cease to be useful or resist too much," she continued, "then they become my dinner." The Naga shrugged uncaringly.

"All those missing people, that was you?" Sam asked.

The Naga's face darkened. "Everything has to eat."

"Why them, though? What's the connection?"

"Connection?" The creature chuckled, pulling her hand away. "They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So that's it, you live by yourself with your slaves?" Sam said, wincing as the Naga smoothed her palm through his overgrown mop. The tips of her claws scraped against his scalp. The movement would've felt pleasurable if not for the body attached to the hand.

The Naga's expression twisted into pain. She tugged her arm back and straightened, her lower half accommodating her movement. She rubbed absently at her sleeve. "I had someone once. He just couldn't…he couldn't accept me for what I am."

"You killed him, didn't you?"

"No," her mouth twisted into a feral snarl. "I would have never hurt him."

Sam grew silent, watching the creature sway languidly towards the table. A section of her powerful snake half was so close to Sam's bound feet he could tap it. The tip of her tail curled near him. The Naga poised her hands against the table, her eyes distant.

"He ran away. But I'm going to find him. Once I do, I'm never letting him out of my sight." She said absently. She peered down at her claws, running the razor-sharp edges against the smooth mahogany, slicing deep gouges into the wood.

"You were once human, weren't you?"

The Naga stiffened, turning slowly back around. "How could you tell?"

"Didn't. Just a guess. Some monsters are born, others are made."

"I'm not a monster." She repeated. "I do what I have to do."

"You eat people," Sam counteracted. "I call that a monster in my book."

Her glowered shifted into a cool, smug expression. "I'm a predator. Predators eat prey to survive." She pulled away from the table. "I'm just asserting myself where I belong: at the top of the food chain."

Sam opened his mouth to reply but heard a sudden gruff noise somewhere behind him.

"Sam?"

"Dean, I'm right here!" He yelled back over his shoulder.

"Shit, Sammy," Dean croaked. "Where the fuck is it?"

"I'm right here, sweetie," the Naga called in a sing-song voice.

There was pause and then a flurry of motion, heels of boots scrapping against the ground and hard, violent jerks of rope against pipes, "If you touch him, I'll fucking kill you!"

"Oh, shut up. I'm not hurting your precious boyfriend." The Naga snorted.

"We're not…we're not boyfriends." Sam said.

Dean shouted obscenities. "You fucking bitch, I'll kill you! I swear to God I'll kill you! Get away from him! Get-"

She smirked, bending down so close that Sam could feel her body heat. He tensed, turning his head to the side. She pressed her nose against his raging pulse point, inhaling deeply. Sam wondered if this is what being scented by a ravenous lion felt like. She darted out her tongue, running the wet appendage up his throat. Sam bit the inside of his cheek, stiffening.

"I can smell him on you," she whispered against the shell of his ear, moving the fine hair inside. "Even if you try to wash him off, you can't wash off the ones you love."

"Fuck you." Sam croaked.

She inhaled underneath his chin, "Thanks, but I can already tell he already has."

Sam's cheeks grew hot. The Naga chuckled, pulling away.

"I'm tired of this place anyway." The creature sighed, slithering backward. She jerked her head towards the captives. "Keep the slaves. I'm done with them."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing?"

She smirked. There was a devilish glint in her eyes. An involuntary shiver raced down Sam's back. The Naga turned and ripped the photos off the wall, shoving them into the breast pocket of her shirt. Dean had shut up from his place a few yards back, listening keenly. The Naga swung down. Sam began wrenching at his constraints, panicked.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. I actually like you, Sam," she ruffled his hair. "You remind me of somebody I used to know."

"I don't understand." Sam said, his mouth feeling stuffed with cotton.

"I'm just gonna give your man a gift." She ran her claws against Sam's cheek, feather-light.

Sam's chest constricted. He shook his head sharply. "What gift?"

"Since I'm such a horrible monster who doesn't deserve love," her tone became high pitched and mocking. "I wanna see if you think the same thing when it's your lover."

Sam's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, his mouth falling open. "No, you…you can't."

"Sure I can," she hissed and in a flash she slithered passed Sam. A part of her bottom half glided across Sam's legs, lukewarm and scaly. He shivered.

"You stay away from him!" Sam shouted, pulling wildly forward against the ropes. "Whatever you're going to do, don't please!"

"Hello there." Sam heard her hiss. Dean yelled a curse before there was a wet popping noise. The sound echoed against the walls, slamming into Sam's chest. There was a second of silence before Dean gave a low moan of suppressed agony.

Sam jerked against his restrains, the tendons in his neck popping alarmingly. "Stop it!"

Wet squelch.

"Stop it!"

Sharp pop.

"Get away from him!"

Shriek.

Dean began screaming. Horrifying, tormented screaming. Every hair rose at the back of Sam's neck. He stopped struggling. The only thing that existed was that noise, that clatter shredding his eardrums, that cry beating at his chest with every beat of his racing heart.

The Naga slithered passed Sam, chuckling. At the entrance of the room, she peered back over her shoulder, her bloodied lips curling into a smug smile. "Enjoy, Sam."

Then she was gone, the black mouth of the tunnel swallowing her whole, the tip of her tail disappearing with a smooth zip.

Sam pressed the back of his aching skull against the pipes, wrenching at his constraints, fighting the bile scorching the back of his throat. "It's okay, Dean. Just…just hang on!"

His brother did not answer.

Dean screamed and screamed and screamed.