Fighting Through It All [Dean Winchester fanfic] #Wattys2015

Chapter Thirteen

I inhale a large breath, my eyes popping open and my chest feeling like it's opening up. I'm no longer in the nursery, crying with my parents, but I'm in front of the Sharp Elbows as he draws a needle back from my neck. He laughs, his eyes more wild than they were before, two empty needles in his hands.
"What are you doing to me?" I yell at him, my voice broken. He lets out another maniacal laugh, his head flying back, a hand on his stomach. I breathe in and out quickly, trying to recover from what I just saw.
"Since I couldn't scare you with my regular method, I figured I'd have to take some extreme measures. And you're a tough cookie, that should've paralyzed you immediately," He explains, and I groan. While my veins no longer feel like they're on fire, my wrists feel raw. "You really did put on a show. Screaming, crying, thrashing- it was Oscar worthy, really."
I grit my teeth at him, shaking my head. "I'm going to kill you."
He shrugs, walking over to me with two new needles. Again, one needle has clear liquid, yet the other is filled with pink liquid. "I don't think so," He replies simply, a smile spreading across his lips. "You're a little tied up right now, if you couldn't tell," He laughs at his own joke, while I just want to kill him. He holds up the pink needle, waving it in front of my face. "Another gem I created. I've used this one before, back in the day. I call it Love Bites. I had a little Def Leppard adoration spree a little while back. You see, it takes the one person you truly love, or multiple people if you're really confused, and well- you'll see how it all turns out."
I try to lean away from him as he moves the needle towards my neck but he just yanks on my hair, causing my neck to be exposed. He jabs the needle in, a little too far if you ask me, and presses down on the plunger. The burning feeling returns, and soon enough, the scene around me changes.

****

Sharp Elbows is gone, yet I'm still in the same room. I look around, trying to think up a escape plan. I'm thrown for a loop as Cory walks out, and the Sharp Elbow's voice rings through my head. The person you truly love. Or, multiple people. Just behind Cory, Dean emerges, his face drawn up in a smirk.

No, no! I think, trying to blink away the two's images. I don't love Dean! I can't love Dean, never fall for a hunter! That's what I've heard from other hunters around. Besides, what about Cory?! This is isn't fair to him! They just continue to walk towards me, wearing the same clothes I saw them both in last. In front of me, suddenly, is a metal table filled with torture instruments.
"Oh, Myra," The two men say in unison. I gulp. "We never really loved you. You're just a girl who fell from Heaven, lost and confused. You were so easy to take advantage of."

They each pick up knives, walking around to the opposite sides of me. They draw lines down my arms, and I grit my teeth again, turning my head and squeezing my eyes shut. When they pick up their knives, I exhale, breathing heavily and looking up at them. They share a laugh, placing their old instrument torture devices on the table, picking up a pair of haunting looking pliers. I clench my hands into fists, as well as jam my mouth shut, locking my jaw.

Dean looks at me with those precious green eyes, and his callused hands come up to stroke my cheek. My jaw trembles, but I refuse to open my mouth.
"It's awful that a girl like you has to go through this," He mumbles, his face drawn down. "But you're no normal girl, are you, Myra? You're a disease, a monster, and monsters need to be put down."

He grabs hold of my hand gently, before gripping it tightly, prying my fingers open. Cory does the same to my right side, and both of them clench the pliers onto my fingernails, pulling on them slowly. I let out a long groan, that fades into a loud cry as my eyes clench shut, head hanging back. They simply discard of the pried off fingernails, and I glance down at my naked nail beds. I clench my hands again, my arms and fingers stinging.

I watch as they pick up guns, aiming them at my head. The last thing I hear is the loud clap of a gunshot.

****