"I've been told plenty of times I'm a monster - it's time to prove them wrong. Even the devil knows that's a compliment."
Her friend was one of many to die at the hands of the Winchesters. Another splash of blood on their red stained hands. They di...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ebony stared down at her shaking hands, her throat clogged with tears and sadness. She didn't need to feel her cheeks to know that they were sopping wet, and she didn't need a mirror to know that her glistening bloodshot eyes leaked a never ending stream of tears. In the few hours she'd been telling her tale, her smile had grown smaller, and had melted away. This was the most time she'd ever spent out of her room, and she hated it. She hated the fact that she was wasting her seconds, minutes, hours on the Winchesters, just to tell them her pitiful reasons as to why she needed to kill them, to feed their curiosity.
And as she was recalling all of the memories that she knew that she'd relive in the darkest hours of the night, she remembered the threat the demon had made to her. Her heart skipped a beat. When she came into the mental institution, she found that the best way to handle the pain was to block all of the bad thoughts and memories out, and some things had been buried so deep into her subconscious that she only remembered them when unearthing the entire story again. Not only had the two people she held close to her heart passed, but she was also pretty sure that her innocent sister had fallen victim to the preying hands of death. A sob shuddered throughout her body. No one went to comfort her, too shocked by her revelation.
Ebony composed herself enough to gasp out a request. "You need to protect my sister, she didn't do anything wrong." Another cry escaped her, and she cupped her mouth in her hand. "It's all my fault. No one else can die, please help her."
The Winchester brothers exchanged a pitying glance, nodding to the other. Sam sighed, running a hand through his long hair. He walked slowly over to Ebony, his hand falling cautiously on her knee. She only stared at his hand, too tired and broken to say anything. "I'm so sorry Ebony."
She sniffled, suddenly letting out a sadistic laugh. "God, I should've expected that, with my track record." She shook her head in disbelief, pursing her lips. Faintly, she could taste the salt left behind from her many breakdowns. "How?"
"The cops said it was suicide, but," Dean cleared his throat, rubbing his jaw. He couldn't find himself to say the rest of the sentence, leaving Ebony to get more antsy.
"But what?" Ebony pushed Sam's hand off of her knee, her red eyes trained on Dean. "Tell me, please."
Dean nodded, leaning his elbow on his knee. He felt some kind of sympathy to the girl who had lost everything - her family, her friend, her unofficial girlfriend, her sanity. He licked his lips, building up the courage to tell her. "There were traces of sulphur in the room."
"What?" Ebony breathed out, frowning.
"We think that she was possessed by the same demon that threatened you, and he made her pick up a gun, and well, I think you can figure out the rest." Sam resisted the urge to again place his hand on her knee, or to comfort her in any way. He didn't know how, after all the death that had followed in her wake. He resorted to doing the only thing people think that they can do in situations like this. Sorrowfully, he muttered. "I'm sorry for your loss."
