Stolen From Paradise: The Road So Far

Chapter 2

As Dean stared into the eyes of the broken and bloodied man before him, he felt a wide array of emotions. He felt powerful, in control, maybe a little bit afraid, or proud, even... but mostly, he was angry. Not only was he angry at himself for what he was doing, but he was also angry at the man, rather, demon chained up in front of him. He had waited so long for this moment, not knowing if he would ever get his revenge, but here he was. He knew that he would most likely never get another chance like this again, so he needed to make it count while he could.

Tilting his chin over to the side, Alistair spit a combination of blood and holy water out of his mouth and onto the concrete floor.

"You're just not getting deep enough." He told Dean. Dean rolled his eyes, and walked back to his cart of tools. "Well, you lack the resources. Reality is just, I don't know, too concrete up here. Honestly, Dean..." Dean poured salt into a container, trying to maintain his calm and cool composure. "You have no idea how bad it really was, and what you really did for us."

Dean placed the salt container back onto the cart with a small thud.

"Shut up." Dean spoke, barely above a whisper.

"The whole bloody thing, Dean. The reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place." Alistair said, as Dean took a few slow steps back over to the demon.

"Well, then I'll just make you shut up." Dean said.

He then grabbed Alistair by the jaw with one hand, using it to tilt his head back and open up his mouth, and started pouring the salt into his mouth with the other.

"Lilith really-" Alistair started to speak through the salt, however it quickly became too much, and his words turned into screams. Dean's brows furrowed with determination as he watched his handy work.

Finally, once his funnel ran out, Dean pulled back and took a small step back. He watched as Alistair began coughing a very violent and guttural cough, a mixture of salt and blood spewing out of his mouth. As Alistair attempted to breathe, it came out labored and unclear.

"Something caught in my throat. I think it's my throat." Alistair spoke, as he was finally able to find his voice.

"Well, strap in, 'cause I'm just starting to have fun." Dean told him. He then turned back and started walking back to his cart.

"You know, it was supposed to be your father." Alistair said, as Dean reached his cart. Ignoring the demon, Dean poured out more holy water. "He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you."

"Bring what on?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off of what his hands were doing in front of him. He wasn't really sure why he asked, he didn't really care, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little curious as to what he was talking about.

"Oh, every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father." He started to answer. Dean shook the salt onto the bloody blade of Ruby's knife. "And finally you said, 'Sign me up.' Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch..." Dean turned to face Alistair. "...That was the first seal."

Dean's eyes narrowed, slightly, and he walked up to Alistair. "You're lying."

"And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break." Alistair seemed to quote, putting extra emphasis on the "k" in "break".

Dean looked into Alistair's eyes, looking for any sign of deception, not that he'd expect to find any even if he was lying, and then turned away.

"We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Topple the one at the front of the line."