The Rise of Dawn - Dean Winchester

Chapter 13. Is My Human Suffering Sexy Enough for You, God?

Niamh was kneeling on the floor in an uncomfortable position, moving her wrists and legs in order to ease the discomfort the chains caused on her skin. They dig deeper with every movement, making blood poor out of the wounds and travel down the rusty tether. Sweat and dried blood caused her hair to stick to the first wounds she received from her captor and every hair that managed to enter the wound stung her and caused a fear of infection to rise in Niamh. She lost the track of time and how much has passed from the last infliction of pain because sleep was out of the question in the condition Niamh was in. Her head hung down and her eyes were half opened, blankly following the drops of blood spilling out of the freshest gash on her forehead. The fallen blood on the concrete floor was mixing with water which was dripping from the ceiling and slowly oozing from the corners of a south wall. The sounds the water made caused Niamh's bladder to activate, putting more pressure on her lower abdomen as she tried her hardest to ignore the wet sounds, which luckily subsided as the vent in the top corner's metal armor turned on, signaling the arrival of her tormentor. The door opened and a woman in an unchanged gray suit with untouched hair and no bruises on her face walked in. Niamh raised her head and glared at the person who was causing her pain, trying to tell her anything that will hurt her since she was unable to hurt her physically.

"Ready to talk or ready for round two? Or four, I've lost count." The woman asked with agog facial expression as she prowled closer to Niamh.

"I'm ready to rip your head off."

"Please, Niamh, I don't have time for pointless bickering with you. I have much more important things to do."

"Oh please, cancel my subscription to your problems." As soon as Niamh said this, the woman grabbed her by the neck and lifted her into the air as if she was as heavy as a feather, which caused Niamh a new kind of pain in her lower back while the shackles around her arms and legs cut almost to the bone causing Niamh to squeeze her eyes and let out a low moan of pain.

"One hell of a smart mouth you got there," the woman spoke through gritted teeth, putting more pressure on Niamh's neck.

"What can I say, I got it from your mom," Niamh replied with a breathy voice due to her airways narrowing.

"You sure did." The woman laughed ironically and put Niamh down, bruising her meniscus as she landed onto the hard floor. "You should do your family a favor and stop gambling with their lives."

A sentence that hurt Niamh more than any of the previous physical pain. Who is this woman and how does she know her family? All sound stimuli began to fade, and Niamh heard only her father's voice and her mother's laughter. The brown-haired woman was saying something, but Niamh just focused on the soft voices of her family to keep herself sane.

"Please, my family doesn't know anything." Niamh's brittle voice came out as an exhausted whisper, making her captor lift her head to hear her better, requesting for her to repeat her words, but Niamh stayed silent. The feeling of fear engulfed Niamh, and she was afraid that if she spoke, she would say something incorrect, which will cause misery to her family.

The new pain was caused by a strong elbow blow that hit the front of her head and sent her head in a direction where her body followed, making Niamh's eyes water. Normally she would have tried to stop this kind of pain by putting her hands on the place of the blow, but this time she was not allowed to do so and could only squeeze her eyes tightly and twist her eyebrows so that the throbbing would disappear. As the pulsating in her head slowly started to fade, the woman spoke again,

"You are weak." Followed by a kick to the side.

"You don't even want to fight me." Followed by a kick to the stomach, making Niamh curl on the floor, bellowing in pain.