From the Ashes [Supernatural] {4}

1.1 Lazarus Rising

40 years.

That what it was. What it felt.

Ever since that night I thought; "It was for my brothers and I don't regret it. I will never regret it if this would keep them alive."

My name is Scarlett Winchester. And I was in Hell.

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It was just like everyday; Pain, torment, screams, the blood, filth and the fear and agony. The screams never stopped. I never stopped. But all of a sudden, I stopped screaming.

My eyes opened wide and I coughed, gasping for air but I couldn't. I couldn't see anything. Everything was so dark. I quickly moved my hands to my pockets, pulling out my lighter and lighting it.

I was in a pine box.

I tried to speak, but my voice was hoarse, "Help!" I coughed, clearing my throat as I gasped for air again. "Help! Help! Sam! Dean!"

I pushed up against the lid above my head. Dirt came trailing inside to my face but I continued to push up at the lid until it broke and the dirt filled the box. I crawled through the dirt to the top, reaching a hand out of the ground.

I reached my other hand, pulling myself out of the ground. I groaned and gasped for air. I opened my eyes and lay on my back on the green grass. I looked up at the blue sky.

Then I pulled myself up to sit slightly and I stared at a cross, placed behind the spot I crawled from. The cross, the box - it was real. I was dead and this was my own grave.

I got up, looking around the clearing I was in. I stared in confusion; all of the trees surrounding my grave had fell in the opposite direction, creating a ring around me.

I was alive. But how I was back?

It felt 40 years at the Pit but up here, I didn't knew how much time had passed.

I wrapped my hoodie around my waist as I walked down an empty road and approached to a gas station after a little while. I walked to the door that had a closed sign on the door and pounded. "Hello?" I called but my voice was still hoarse.

I pulled off my hoodie as I glanced around. I rolled up the hoodie over my hand and then broke the glass on the door. I unwrapped the hoodie and unlocked the door from the inside. I opened the door and stepped in, closing it after me.

I walked around the place and stopped at a fridge where there were bottles of water. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle. I gulped at it before I pulled the bottle from my lips, gasping.

I looked around the spot before my eyes caught a sight of the newspapers. I walked over to it and grabbed a newspaper and looked at the date. I was shocked for what I read.

Thursday, September 18th, 2008

"September?" I asked quietly, looking out of the window. I was killed by the Hellhounds in May 2, 2008. How the hell it could be FOUR months here while it felt like a lifetime in Hell?

I placed the newspaper back and walked to the bathroom. I washed my face in a dingy sink, then used my hoodie to dry my face.

I looked up and stared at my reflection. I glanced in my reflection at my clothes. I pulled my shirt up to see that my body was completely healed. It was completely fine after being torn to shreds by the Hellhounds. I pulled my shirt down and pulled my hair to the side and slightly pulled my short sleeve down a little to see that the Anti-Possession tattoo was still there on my chest close to my left shoulder.

I winced when I moved my arm. It started to hurt like hell. I raised my sleeve on my left shoulder to reveal a large, red handprint on my arm. I stared at it for a moment before slowly pulling my sleeve back.