Supernatural Imagines

I Have Your Heart

The mists from my sight slowly starts clearing as I open my eyes, my vision still tunneled as I glimpse down seeing my wrists tied to the arms of the chair I sat in.

I can feel the cold steal point of a blade skating over my collarbone. My eyes drift upwards seeing a face I've known before yet can't place any names on it. I know him well. But I don't know him now.

"What do you know, sweetie?" He muses as the blade slowly burns against my cheek.

"Don't call me sweetie," I hiss, spitting in his direction, a mixture of saliva and mostly blood. Funny enough I can barely feel what they've done. I just know that it's supposed to hurt and that they've done it.

He mutters something indistinct but something about knowing what he's asking. And then he backed away.

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, hands flailing as I try to reach for them. Their heads bowed from torture, bloody and bruised. Both of their clothes were torn and tattered from the edge of a blade and the tears well, burning the backs of my eyes.

My boys. My two boys. Battered and bloody.

Sam is the first to shake out of his unconsciousness, rattling in his chair as he calls for me and Dean. Then the older brother follows suit. The three of us sat in a triangle, bound to wooden chairs, a bandanna used as a gag tied around Dean.

The face before contorts into a wicked grin, a knife taunting my sights as he waves it in front of me and steps behind Sam.

"Maybe you'll know what we're asking for now." The blade slowly starts running down the side of Sam's neck, breaking the surface, letting the blood slowly start to protrude through the cut.

I don't. I don't even know what they're asking, just that they are. Sam muffles a groan, his hands curling into tight fists as he white knuckles the arms of the chair. His eyes screw shut tight as his head throws back. The same blade making new marks and slashes along his chest.

"Please! Stop, I don't know anything!" I'm left screaming, my throat raw from the screams beforehand.

I can't seem to figure out what they want. They want information on something. I don't know why they ask me, I'm the last to know anything. Sam groans again, letting a barbaric scream rumble from his chest as one blade presses deeper against his chest. Then they stop.

I look over to Dean seeing a few tears fall from his eyes. I look back to Sam, hair slick with sweat and blood while a few strands are stuck to his forehead. Fingers raw from clawing at the arm of the chair. I just want to hold them both. I can't. And now I don't think I ever will again.

I feel eyes on me and when I look over I see beautiful green eyes staring back at me. Tears roll as the nameless face tears away at the bloody and worn scarf from Dean's mouth.

"Just tell him what you know, honey," he whispered as a different blade slashed away at Dean's chest. His nose and brows scrunch. Waiting for me to spill.

I can only cry out, begging the monster to stop. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" I wail, my voice cracking and gritty like I've just swallowed bags of gravel.

The monster only shrugs. My eyes widen further as the point of the blade presses against his chest. "You have one more chance to-"

"But I don't! I don't even know what you want!" I whine out, wailing as the blade presses just a tad deeper, hair falling against my face, feeling sticky and sickly from the blood and muck I'm covered in. "Stop!! Please!!"