Monster (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [1]

Chapter 35: "God, please....just kill me already."

Hey, lovelies. I'm updating early because I probably won't remember for Wednesday. Tomorrow (Tuesday) is my great-grandmother's funeral so I'm up in Savannah, GA until tomorrow night. It's a seven hour car ride home and I have school Wednesday (I'm missing Tuesday for this) so I know I won't remember. Anyhow, enjoy this update. I love you all.

Singer Salvage Yard, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Cassandra stared blankly up at the ceiling of the panic room, her eyes following the fan that spun slowly above the iron devil's trap that lined up perfectly with its twin on the floor. She let out a sigh, her hands resting under head despite the uncomfortable chains that pressed against her neck. It had been two days and none of the men upstairs had yet to come by and see her. She knew that they'd bring food to her within the next twenty-four hours as they only wanted to keep her locked up, not dead or weak. She also hadn't slept. She tried reaching out to any of the angels but Dean was right; the wardings were too strong to break through.

The Nephilim had located each warding around the panic room within an hour but they were all out of reach. She tried throwing things from the desk at them, yanking on the chains, and reciting spells that she had memorized from old books that Bobby had her read. The only thing she got out of it were bruised wrists and a raging headache.

Finally, after eight hours into the third day, Cassandra could hear someone coming down into the basement. She didn't move and instead closed her eyes, listening closely as they unlocked the iron door. It took every ounce of willpower in her not to wince or cringe when it let out a loud, eerie, creaking sound.

"I know you're awake." It was Sam. "And I know you're hungry."

"Bullshit."

"Really?" he challenged. Cassandra twisted around on the bed and eyed the Hunter before her gaze drifted down the bacon cheeseburger on the middle of the plate, curly fries surrounding it with a side of honey mustard. In Sam's other hand was a glass of root beer. He smirked at the longing look she sent towards the food. "Dean made it." She rolled her eyes and turned over on her side, facing the wall.

"Unless, you're letting me go, leave." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. She had lost her voice quickly from all of the screaming but sitting in silence seemed to help greatly. She was starting to get it back but it still wasn't well enough.

Sam rolled his eyes and set the plate and glass on the floor next to her bed before leaning back on the desk, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Did I go deaf all of the sudden or do I not hear your retreating footsteps? I told you to leave," the blonde snapped.

"Someone's grouchy."

"Bite me, Winchester."

"Personally, I wouldn't, but I'm sure Dean would love to once all of this is over."

Cassandra scoffed and shook her head, clutching the second pillow to her chest. Luckily Dean had been generous enough to give her another pillow before locking her in there, knowing that she slept better with two compared to one. Unfortunately they hadn't been kind enough to grant her a blanket.

Sam ran his tongue over his lips, cocking his head to the side as he studied her figure. "I'm getting a sense of deja vu here."

"Do you really think I care? Get. Out."

"You know, when we first met you you refused to talk to Dean and only to me. I have a feeling that if Dean came in here right now you would just flip him off or ignore him, just like you did before. But me...despite the fact that I was the one with the needle you'll still talk to me. Why's that?" Sam asked. Cassandra's gaze fell to the bed sheets, her lips parting slightly. She'd never admit it but he wasn't wrong. There was something about Sam that made her feel like she could trust him. He had this brotherly connection to her, a connection similar to the one she once had with Jess.