Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
always_enduphere) wrote2013-04-15 01:35 pm
always_enduphere) wrote2013-04-15 01:35 pm
(no subject)
The chapel is small. Built for mourners on the edge of the dead, its walls are clean and white, sturdy, meant for shelter. Wood and brick, not meant to contain the darkness now held within them, twitching in the form of the body strapped prone to a hasty trap made of splintered pews.
It's quiet inside, removed enough from the city that the only sounds are rattling breaths from the body in chains, snatches of anxious voices and the occasional rumble of the floor, creaking and groaning from unseen onslaught, but holding.
There's an energy in the air, an electricity that raises hackles along with hairs, pouring from the ravaged body in an angry throb, but within the trap it can't do more than rattle walls, beneath the chains that smoke its skin, it can't do more than hiss curses on borrowed breath, and promise agonies yet to come.
In the center of the trap, the thing wearing Dean Winchester bares its teeth, blinking black towards any with stomach left to look at him.
It's quiet inside, removed enough from the city that the only sounds are rattling breaths from the body in chains, snatches of anxious voices and the occasional rumble of the floor, creaking and groaning from unseen onslaught, but holding.
There's an energy in the air, an electricity that raises hackles along with hairs, pouring from the ravaged body in an angry throb, but within the trap it can't do more than rattle walls, beneath the chains that smoke its skin, it can't do more than hiss curses on borrowed breath, and promise agonies yet to come.
In the center of the trap, the thing wearing Dean Winchester bares its teeth, blinking black towards any with stomach left to look at him.
no subject
A fresh spike of pain splits down his skull and Sam cries out again as he drops his arm, gasping and shaking, crumpling under the weight of defeat and failure.
"Dean," he breathes, knees nearly buckling once more as a drop of blood spills from his nose and onto the cold floor at his feet.
no subject
"Not Dean, not ever again. I check out tonight, I'm taking him with me." i yank dean's sickly features around in a too sweet mockery of regret. "Sorry."