A Supernatural Fanfiction.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

*Carrie's P.O.V.* (Thank you everyone for your patience, I hope you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me for this mega-ultra-super late upload! I love you guys.)

It smelled like wet dog. Before I could even open my eyes, I knew we were somewhere deep underground. I listened for the sounds of footsteps, talking, or even crippling agonizing screams. All was quiet. My arms were above my head, wrists bound, tethering me to the ceiling. My legs were spread apart and each ankle was tied down. It didn't feel like rope. I gave my arms and each leg a small pull to see if I could yank myself free. Because of that brilliant idea, I was rewarded with blood trickling down all four of my limbs. It took everything in me not to cry out.

The wet dog smell was mixed with something I was all to familiar with; sulfur. And lots of it. Finally daring enough to open my eyes, I took in my surroundings.

Definitely underground, there was no doubt about it. Dirty rock walls surrounded me, and an impossibly thick metal door with three bars over the tiny slit of a window, were the only things I could actually see. I exhaled slowly.

Next, I surveyed what exactly they had tied me up with. It looked like rope, but there were tons of long, thin, metal pieces braided into it. I made the mistake of pulling again, and drew even more blood. Where the hell was I, and who the hell would braid razor wire into rope?

I closed my eyes and prayed to Cas, describing everything around me.

A lock on the door creaked and slammed into place before the metal heap swung inward, and I opened my eyes. The intruder said nothing as we locked gazes. Out in the hallway, there were more doors, seemingly just like mine, lined on after the other. The walls dripped with black ooze, mud, and something very red I hoped wasn't blood. The floor had been patted down through many years of feet walking over it, save for gouges along the sides that could fit each one of my fingers...

"Where's Crowley?" I spat at the man.

He didn't so much as blink when he kept silent, threw a right hook to my stomach, and heard me scream with what little air I had left in my lungs. Not man, demon. I looked back up and to the open door. Moans, screams, sobbing, anger, rage, fear, and despair seeping into my cell and I had never been more afraid in my entire life.

The demon wound up for another hit. "This is hell, isn't it?"

After he struck me in the stomach, again, I was pretty sure it had been knocked out of my body onto the floor behind me. It didn't stop there. A few minutes later, another demon came in carrying a bucket filled with something that looked and smelled like rancid fish. Good news, it wasn't just fish. The woman was kind enough to pour it slowly over my hands and feet so that I could feel the putrid liquid invading every open wound I had. I decided I was going to name these demons, who were obviously going to be my torturers while I stayed at Casa de Crowley.

The man, Tiny, took out a rusty old knife and started slowly cutting perpendicular lines down my arm, two inches long and one inch apart. Tears stung at the corner of my eyes when the woman, Gladys, poured the concoction over Tiny's bloodied work. I started to hear laughter far off in the distance before realizing that it was me.

Tiny and Gladys stayed for what felt like hours. They cut me all over my body, poured the fish gut crap over it, pulled out every other fingernail, and hit me over and over again. Beaten, bloodied, and bruised I hung on that ceiling with blood soaking my torn to shred clothes. I watched the deep red pooling on the floor as Tiny left, only to return with a red hot poker. My heart quickened.

Gladys inspected me rather quickly, deciding that the best place for me to be burned was my untouched inner left thigh. Tiny approached slower than I thought possible for any creature. The poked came closer and closer, and I started to laugh again. When the red tip touched my unmarked skin, stars danced across my vision.

At least they didn't pour more guts on it.

I hung alone again, no one there to torture me for no reason. My heart was still unbroken, and I knew that Sam and Dean would find me.

Interrupting my monologue, whistling drifted through the sorry excuse for a window and to my ears. Whoever it was hadn't figured out we were in hell, and not in Kansas anymore.