Demon Blood: A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 21: Where is the Hope in Desperation?

Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock...

The sharp rapping on the Winchesters' motel door sounded much like never-ceasing morse code, without spaces or pauses for words. It weaved its way into a particularly feisty dream of Dean's, leaving him feeling grumpy and not in the mood to answer the successive thumps on the door.

After Mallory had gone out, they decided there wasn't much more to do than eat and wait. And by wait, they meant catch up on their sleep. During the past two weeks, they'd been on the road for about a week and a half, possibly more. It was always hard to sleep in the car.

The knocking stopped suddenly. A bit of shuffling sounded, and then a series of small clicks, and Dean bolted upwards, suddenly awake.

Someone was picking the lock.

It clicked open quickly, giving Dean no time to wake up his heavy-sleeping brother. He palmed his gun and moved silently to the wall beside the door.

The door swung open without a sound. Dean was a little bit confused, as he hadn't seen the doorknob turn, but gripped his pistol warily and waited for the intruder to enter.

He waited for almost a full two minutes before peeking carefully around the corner.

No one.

A soft mutter escaped his breath and he stepped forward quietly, keeping his gun in front of him. It was slightly breezy, just enough to ruffle his shirt, but there was no silhouette in the door, no shadow that indicated that someone was standing there. Taking a deep breath, he continued over the door frame and onto the path in front of the rooms.

Dean knew that if it were a movie, there would be building ominous string music in the background. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for the impala and a few other cars. In fact, the entire area seemed strangely deserted- no cars on the road, no people walking around, no usual sounds of a city.

"Hello?" he called tentatively, expecting no reply.

"Hello," a deep voice- not Sam's- rumbled behind Dean, in the door frame. Dean whirled around and his gun flew up, pointing it at the unknown person's forehead.

Messy dark hair, blue eyes, beige sweater- Dean recognized him.

Chris, or more accurately, Onith.

Onith glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping Winchester and Dean inwardly panicked. The demon was between him and his brother, leaving him in a very hard spot to defend Sam.

Dean considered shooting, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. It would only harm the meatsuit, and Onith would not be affected.

Onith chuckled, out of character from the socially awkward man Dean had met in the library. "Shame. You both are good men. If only you could see that what I am doing has good purpose."

Screw it, we're going in. Dean bit his lip and held the gun steady, preparing to pull the shot.

Onith's left hand flew toward him at lightning speed and flicked the gun up, the shot blasting at the top of the door frame and raining plaster down on them both. At the same time, the demon brought up his right hand and clipped Dean across the jaw.

Sam had woken up, and was slowly reaching under his pillow when Onith threw a hand toward him.

"Sam?" Dean called, watching his brother's eyes widen. Sam reached up and put a few fingers to his neck, suddenly clawing at it when he realized what was happening.

Dean wasn't sure until Sam unsuccessfully attempted to draw in a breath.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean leapt at the demon, but Onith was ready. He stepped aside and managed to spin Dean around, hitting him again across the nose. Finally, he snapped his fingers, and Dean dropped to the floor.