The Knock (Destiel)

Chapter twenty-two

22. King of hell

        When Castiel woke up, he couldn't see much. That was partly because his vision was blurred, but the dark room he was in didn't exactly help. At all. He let out a groan, which sounded muffled by a piece of duct tape that was apparently covering his mouth. Alarmed, he tried to move his arms. He didn't have much luck, as they, as well as his legs, were tied up.

       Great.

       He took a deep breath before starting to scream through the tape, it sounding muffled, while the sound vibrated against his own lips. It was probably a lost call, but it was worth a shot. He was surprised when a door was opened and the sudden light blinded him. He stopped screaming and squinted him eyes shut. A seemingly small silhouette took his attention, black against the bright light.

       It took him a minute to adjust to the light. It became clear that he was in some kind of bunker. The room was completely made out of metal or iron, no windows in the walls. The man in front of him was small compared to his usual height, dressed in a black suit. It made him look dark and bad, which Castiel thought was probably meant to be. He wore a devilish smirk, which matched the choice of clothing.

       "Hello, Castiel," he spoke, a faint Scottish accent clouding the words. Castiel just glared at him, seeing as there wasn't anything else he could do. The throbbing in his head didn't exactly help in the situation, making him feel twice as pissed off.

       "You're probably wondering who I am?" Castiel kept staring, not even curious. "Yes, I thought so."

       If it wouldn't have lasted for so long, Castiel would have thought he was mental. But the eyes in front of him weren't the normal white with pick a colour. No, they were red. Castiel's eyes widened, realising that in front of him was standing a demon, probably a crossroad one.

       "I'm Crowley, king of hell," the man spoke.

       Oh.

       If possible, all the colour drowned from Castiel's face. What was so special about him that the fricking king of hell kidnapped him.

       "Yes, I know. Exciting, isn't it? Anyways, I think we're gonna have so much fun," he shot Castiel a wicked smile, while Castiel noticed a blade shimmer in the light.

       Crap.

--

       In the mean time, Dean and Sam were walking through the woods, screaming Castiel's name repeatedly. Ever since the man left, Dean had been driving around, but without success. After a few hours they figured that Castiel was indeed smart and would not hide in the open, so they started to walk.

       They didn't know how far they went into the woods, but a clenching feeling in his heart was making it harder and harder to breath for Dean. He leaned against a tree, looking at his shaking hands. It was rare for him to have some kind of panic attack, so it surprised him to indeed feel panicked inside.

       Sam's voice cut off his thoughts. It sounded like a scream. Not a scream like 'I'm in danger', but more like a 'I'm concerned and found something' scream. With a shaky breath, he walked over to where his brother was crouching down next to a fallen tree trunk.