"Yes," she finally replied, hoping that Dean would finally stop telling her these horrible things.
Relieved, Dean took a breath and laughed briefly. Blinded by the madness the mark caused in his head, he believed the brazen lie and decided to untie her.
"You should take a bath," he noted, since she had been sitting in that basement for three days.
Although he had brought her water and food, she was still attached to the kettle. He untied her only for her needy urination and personally took her to the toilet, where he guarded her so that she would not escape unnoticed.
Helping her, he held out his hand, which she took unsteadily. With less elegance she stood up, her bones stiff from the cold floor and the little movement. Stiffly she followed him up one floor and was amazed. Dean had cleaned everything up, traces of a fight could still be seen here and there, but the chaos was gone.
"Go upstairs and run yourself a bath, but don't you dare run away. I'll hunt you down and this time I won't hesitate to kill you," he threatened calmly and Tony nodded.
Intimidated, she pushed herself along the wall to the stairs, which she hurriedly ran up.
"Well that looks a lot better," he smiled kindly as she descended the steps a little later, freshly washed and dressed.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In fact, she had considered jumping out of her bedroom window and running away, but she wouldn't have survived the jump unharmed, and with a sprained ankle she couldn't possibly run away from the demon. Alternatively, she took a couple of the Valium pills from her nightstand to at least make everything more bearable. It wasn't the first time the brunette had been held captive by a monster. She had already faced death once when she was the prey of a Wendigo, but at least then she knew that she was its dinner. With the Knight of Hell, she didn't know if he would eventually sexually abuse her, nor if she was simply for his occupation, or if she was just another casualty on his list.
"There's breakfast for you in the kitchen," he informed her, accompanying her, "And I bought you a book, 'Pride and Prejudice' I think you'll like."
Antoinette skeptically examined the sandwich he had provided for her, eating it slowly as he watched her with delight. She didn't like it and couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, but it was all right. At least for Dean, because now he had what he wanted. The illusion of a relationship with Josephine, who loved the real him, was perfect.
This farce went on for several more days. Again and again Dean would come home late at night, take off his bloody clothes, and tell Tony about what he had done as if it were the most normal thing in the world. One day, however, things changed abruptly.
Dean was just wandering around the nightclubs as usual, drinking his life away, when suddenly a group of hunters entered the bar. Annoyed, Dean sighed and tipped the tequila shot down his throat.
