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Bobby got a call from Ellie. She didn't give many details, just asked us to meet her as soon as possible. Her tone was enough to set us all on edge, so without wasting a second, we bolted out of Bobby's house like hounds chasing a scent. We made our way to the location she had mentioned.
The four of us stepped into an alleyway the daylight shining down, as the cars on the road passed on by. We scanned the ally of Ellie. She was nowhere in sight. "Where is she?" Dean muttered, his voice edged with suspicion as he shot a glance at Bobby, who frowned and looked around with equal concern.
"She said to meet her here," Bobby stated firmly, his brow furrowed in concern. "I'll try her again," he added, pulling out his flip phone and quickly dialling her number. The moment the line connected, a faint ringing echoed in the distance, drawing our attention. She was close. We followed the sound through the alley, rounding a corner past a large dumpster. There, slumped against two dumpsters, her back pressed against wooden slats was Ellie.
"Ellie?" Bobby called out, his voice laced with worry as he quickly ended the call and crouched beside her. She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open, but what struck me immediately was the overpowering scent of blood in the air.
"Hey," she murmured, her eyes locking on Bobby. For a moment, it felt like I was yanked back in time. She looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen her—back at Lovecraft's house, serving as his maid. Our maid. "I guess I could have used your help after all," she remarks, even at a time like this.
"Just be still," Bobby tells her softly.
"What happened?" Sam asked from my left, as I was standing between both brothers.
"They took me," she started, her voice trembling as her eyes locked on Bobby. "But I got away." Slowly, she parted her jacket, revealing the gruesome evidence beneath—a shirt drenched in blood, the crimson stains spreading further with every breath she took.
"Oh, Ellie," Bobby murmured, his voice heavy with heartbreak. The raw pain in his tone twisted something deep inside me. "What have they done to you?" He stared at her in disbelief, as if struggling to process the sight before him.
"Everything..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her lips curved in a weak, bitter smile. "The demon I could have handled, you know?" She paused, her gaze dropping as if the weight of her memories was too much to bear. "But when the angel stepped in..." Her words faltered, fading as if she was remembering.
Bobby turned his head sharply, his eyes darting between the three of us before settling on me. His expression was a silent plea, a raw, desperate hope etched into every line of his face. He didn't say a word, but his gaze spoke volumes—begging me to step in, to conjure some magical solution that could undo the damage she had suffered. But not everything could be solved with magic.
Before I could take a step forward, Ellie's voice cut through the air. "I told him, Bobby," she murmured, her words drawing his attention back to her. Her gaze was pained but resolute. "They've got enough to crack Purgatory wide open."
