TORTURE, SUPERNATURAL

ꜰɪᴠᴇ. ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ

Inside the mill, I take a deep breath in. Let it out.

It is cold and dim inside. Goosebumps rise along my skin as my eyes take moments to adjust. As soon as they do, I grip my knife tighter and look around.

Across the expansive space, there are platforms. Machinery sits atop them. Some have fallen from years of inactivity. Large mixing bowls sit on one side of the mill and workbenches on the other. The place is devoid of belongings and only skeletons of a once-active mill wither away.

It is eerie but convenient.

But, I look up and realize that this is only the mill's first floor. Above me crumbles the ruins of what was once a second floor.

I let out a swear. That makes it more challenging. The Djinn could hide above me.

Walking around, I monitor my surroundings. Djinns are extremely swift and remarkably quiet. They attack people when they are off their guard. I stay alert and low, with the knife clenched in my hand.

I hear footsteps.

Ducking behind the side of a bowl, I press myself against the cool concrete tightly. I slow my breathing, keep my eyes open, and wait until the footsteps are right beside me. Then I attack.

The Djinn is a female, youthful but vigorous. She expects me and ducks as I dive over the place she stands. I roll and get to my feet, brandishing my knife in the space between us.

"Hunter, do you honestly think a pathetic butter knife will harm me?" The Djinn cackles, throwing back her head and rolling her eyes. The tattoos that adorn her arms slide up and down. I meet her eyes. They flash electric blue.

I rush at her again, kicking out a foot toward her shoes, trying to get her off her guard. But she's trained and faster than I expected. She lands a punch in my gut and I stagger backward, momentarily out of breath. Pain follows. I ignore it as she goes to punch me again, this time in my jaw. But I block the punch and slide the knife along the inside of her wrist. The lamb's blood reacts to her and she screams.

"You little bitch, you cut me!"

Before I have time to recenter myself, she has me by the throat.

"You're going to pay for that," she smirks, teeth sharp and fanged, "My turn to have some fun."

The Djinn pins me against a workbench. I struggle in her grip, trying to bring the knife closer to her. She twists my wrist and I'm forced to let it clutter beside me. Her fingernails dig into my neck. They pierce the skin.

Her face lowers to mine and she spits, "You are a pitiful hunter."

I try to control my energy by throwing her weight off of me when my vision goes foggy.

I'm losing consciousness. If I don't get her off of me, then I will die here.

But the roof of the mill suddenly veers and as I blink, my vision clears. Hundreds of glow-in-the-dark stars shimmer above me, half-hazardly bluetacked to the roof. Sitting up, I see purple walls. I rub my eyes and throw the warm covers off of my body. 

This is my childhood bedroom. 

The alluring aroma of my mother's favored breakfast wades into my room. The delicious combination of crispy bacon, eggs, and toast slathered in butter. The smell is so strong. How is this real? 

I follow the smell and the sound of my mother singing in the kitchen. I watch from the door. My mother spins around, dressed in her pink summer dress, flipping the food in a pan. My father watches from the table, his mouth wide, laughing in delight as his wife cooks and sings for him.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words,"

My father's laugh is vigorous as he watches my mother sing. It tolls like home.

"Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song, "

I can not help but join in on the laughter. When was the last time I laughed like this? I drown in the love that fills the room. We are humming and delighted. We are a family again. There is no wish I could dream of that is better than the one before me.

"Telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly with his song,"

But, as my father takes my mother in his arms and swings her around the kitchen, the walls of the room start to melt. My parents dance around the kitchen as I scream at them to run.  Everything is falling, melting into puddles at my feet.

Confusion and terror obscure me. I rush into the room as the cupboards begin to shake and disappear. The utensils follow, popping and disappearing. Then the kitchen table dissolves into a brown puddle on the floor.

Everything is gone. Only my parents remain. They both twist to me and tilt their heads.

"Addie," my mother sings.

"Addie," my father shouts.

"Addie."

"ADERYN!"

I open my eyes.

I'm outside. A pair of green and brown eyes blink down at me. They belong to Sam and Dean. Sam says my name again.

I am on a job. I am here. My father is dead. My mother has not sung since. 

The Djinn tricked me. The Djinn.

Air rushes into my lungs, and I sit up, heaving for breath. Sam places a gentle hand on my shoulder to calm my frantic breathing. It takes a moment for me to recognize my surroundings. I am outside; the mill is behind Sam and Dean, and the car is beside us.

"What happened?" I ask, rubbing a hand against my throbbing forehead. The last thing I remember is having my windpipe crushed by the Djinn. Then everything went black, and I woke up here.

Sam helps me to my feet. "The Djinn poisoned and hallucinated you. You've lost a lot of blood, so take it easy on your feet."

"Is it dead?" I ask.

Sam nods. "Dean got to you in time. I was on the second floor when the commotion started." He looks away. "And by the time I got to you, Dean had killed the Djinn and was taking you outside. "

I turn and look at Dean, offering him a grateful nod, although I am embarrassed. "Thank you,"

Dean's jaw clenches. He runs a hand through his short, brown hair before nodding and heading back to the car. He gets in, starts the engine, and waits until Sam and I sit down before roaring away from the mill.

Sam tells me we're going to rest for the night at a motel we passed earlier. I do not argue. As we drive, my eyes droop and my head spins. This is a sign enough that I need rest.

It is all a haze as we arrive and get a key to our room. I murmur responses to Sam and Dean before collapsing onto the nearest bed. The room smells of old people and sex, but I am too tired to comprehend anything but the pounding of my head.

I close my eyes.