Bloodline (Supernatural)

24 - Spiraling

I'm pretty sure I've become unacquainted with sleep. That certainly doesn't help my slowly spiraling state of mind.

I feel as though I'm falling ill, with how bad my cut looks. It stings when anything comes into contact with it, even sweat. I've never gotten a change of clothes since I arrived.

They are certainly pulling out all the stops to break my spirit. I'm still hanging on, though, I'm not sure by how much. But I refuse to show them that they're winning, even if it's small.

More cries of pain. Pleas to go home. Pleas to go to Heaven. Sharp rebukes and laughter from demons who deny even the simplest of requests. I've never bothered to voice my requests. I can't say how many in here are hunters or are of a hunter bloodline, but if they can't get what they want, I sure as hell know I won't.

I'm beginning to lose strands of hair, more than normal. My hair sheds but not this bad. I don't have nails since I've scraped them away against the ground and the brick walls. Or I bite them for food.

Hell can keep me alive as long as it wants. It's like it's alive, its own entity. That's scary in itself.

"You look like you could use a pick-me-up," is Finn's greeting to me this time around.

I don't move as he slides into my cell. He bears no gifts, he never does. I'm grudgingly prepared to be shipped off to another "playdate" with Sam and Dean. That's usually why Finn shows. He doesn't like to hang around and make conversation anymore, that's saved to pass the time to my torture.

"Throat dry again? Or did those morons cut your tongue out? I'll skin them alive if they've done that," Finn growls.

"No tongue cutting," I croak.

"I've got something that might interest you."

I cough. "Not interested, unless it's my ticket to freedom."

"Depending on how you look at it, it just might be."

I squint at the demon. "What are you scheming?"

"Eh, not scheming. I've sat in on your play sessions with the Winchesters—"

"They're—they're not them."

Finn waves off my words. "I'm starting to pity you, Willa. You fight, and you fight, and you fight. I'll give you brownie points for it, but I'm starting to regret it. You're still not seeing it, the big picture."

"Because I don't need to. It's not real. Why are you stalling? Shouldn't we be on our merry way to my session?"

"Oh, you're not getting out of it. I'm just...allowing you some extra time before I take you."

"What's the catch?" He's never offered anything prior before.

Finn pulls a small, gleaming blade from thin air.

"Uh-uh, I'm not wasting my time fighting you. I gotta save it for them."

"I'm not here to fight. I'm here to give you something to help take the edge off a little. Something that'll help wake that little bit of magic in your blood."

"Again, not interested."

"You should be, Willa. Listen to what I'm offering. You've got just enough demon blood in you. If you intake some more, that suppressed power will grow. It'll take some time, but you can learn how to harness it properly."

I cock my head. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I want you to fully understand what you are. What you can do." Finn takes the blade to exposed skin. The cut seeps blood.

"I knew demons were crazy, but this is the next step up. I'm not giving into your weird kinks."

"That's kink-shaming," he scolds me. "Aren't you tired of feeling weak, Wills? Aren't you ready to be the best version of you?"

I was when I was out of this.

"This is just a trial run. One time only, and then it won't be brought up ever again." He offers his wrist towards me. "How about it?"

Bait. Surely this is bait. It can't be anything but. He believes I'm desperate enough to want it, even if it's just a taste. Am I that low? If I show my hand, he'll know. The demons will know that they're getting somewhere with me. "Can it help this?" I show him my festering wound.

"Over time it can. It's not a cure-all." Finn holds his wrist in front of my face. "This is a limited time offer, Willa. Might want to decide what you want."

This is so messed up on so many levels...but maybe someone knocked out his common sense and I just never noticed. Maybe he truly feels something for me. Can demons feel emotion?

Warily, I put his wrist to my mouth. I spit the metallic taste out, until he keeps my head near his wrist, forcing me to either choke on his blood or down it. I take the road that's not going to kill me.

While I don't feel like Supergirl or anything, something definitely feels different. My cut looks a little better. But it's not like food. It's not water. It's demon's blood. I've got it in me, and I just allowed a demon to hook me up with his. I didn't even need to ask him, he did it on his own.

"Now," says Finn, "how about we go tackle your play session head-on?" He sweeps a hand over his wrist. The cut is gone but some of the blood remains on his skin.

**I found that as I wrote Willa's time in Hell, the chapters have been much shorter. That's probably for the best. A kindness for all of us. These were difficult to write, and a bit mentally taxing.

Well, you can see why.**