The Year of Redemption

Chapter 21: Do This Anymore

Dean spent the day drinking, napping, and reading through the rest of his library and bookstore manuscripts about Lucifer's Cage, all to no avail. Castiel did not show up that night, and Dean yearned for unconsciousness. His hand still throbbed, but the bleeding had stopped and the wound seemed to be starting to heal.

It may have just been the pain that caused Dean to black out, but he was able to fall asleep after just a few minutes laying down. His sleep didn't end up being any too restful, though. New nightmares danced relentlessly before his eyelids. Nightmares that he had never seen before. Nightmares that were worse than all of the other ones he'd experienced since the apocalypse. They all ran together and centered around one thing: Sammy in the Cage.

Dean picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Dean, I found something you might want to know about. I don't know if I agree with it, but at least it's something."

"What is it? What are you talking about, Bobby?"

"This old script from circa 4000 years ago..."

"I don't give a damn where it came from, Bobby, what does it say?"

"Besides God himself, there's one other thing that can get into the Cage."

"Well, what is it?"

"One of them got into Hell and pulled your ass out of there, so it pretty much makes sense. Dean, angels have access to the Cage. I don't know if they're strong enough to haul something out of it, but--..."

Dean cut him off. "Well it's worth a shot! I'll call Cas, thanks Bobby!"

"Dean!" Bobby yelled just before Dean hung up the phone.

Sammy was burning. His flesh hung in shreds, smoking and smoldering off of his body. He was screaming. There was someone else there, helping to rip bits of Sammy's skin off and throw them down into the fire raging below.

Sammy struggled to break free, but he was being held fast in some sort of bondage. His eyes rolled back in his head. "Please," he moaned in a guttural voice that sounded more like a primitive creature than a human. Every now and then, a flame leaped up from below him and caught a piece of his shredded skin on fire, causing it to curl grotesquely before detaching and spiraling downwards into the pit of flames.

It seemed like an eternity of writhing and burning and screaming before Sammy's body finally went limp. The assailant couldn't bring him back to consciousness for more torture. Both of the bodies suddenly flew into the pit below.

Sammy was laughing. Parts of his skin were black, other parts were glowing red. He stood over another bound body and reached down. His hand came back up with a chunk of flesh that he then threw into an abyss below him. He lowered his head and ripped a piece of skin from the body with his teeth, smiling as it hung in his mouth.

There were high-pitched shrieks coming from the body. Every now and then, a voice pleaded, begging Sammy to stop in a hoarse whisper. Sammy only snickered and went back to his savage tearing and gnawing. He prolonged the torture as long as possible, slapping his victim back to consciousness and injecting him with a drug that kept him awake and alive even for just a few minutes longer. When Sammy finally couldn't keep his victim conscious any more, they both were pushed by an unknown force, and the leaping flames consumed their bodies.

An angel's wings flashed black against the earthen wall, illuminated by the raging fire in front of him. The angel was wearing a trench coat. He noticed a pair of bodies above him, one bound in chains and the other leaning over the chained victim. The angel flew up to the bodies. One of them – the one who was not chained down – turned towards the angel. Its eyes flashed to black, and it reached out to the other body, ripping him from his bondage and then shooting upwards in a spiral of black smoke.