TORTURE, SUPERNATURAL

ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ. ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ

I stand in the shower for what seems like hours. 

The hot water runs down my sore skin, cleaning off the dirt and blood that has caked over my body. I throw back my head and run my hands through my long hair, my scalp tingling in pain. My body aches and yet, today is still not over, Crowley wants to have dinner. I wonder what will be served, human flesh? That wouldn't surprise me, not after everything that has happened so far. 

I have to force myself to leave the shower and get dressed. Like the rest of his home, the bedroom he's confined me to is blazing in red. The bed, the carpet, and even the tiles of the bathroom are all red. 

A bunch of roses in a vase sits prettily on the bathroom sink and I stare at them with disdain, are they a sick gift for me? Or does Crowley regularly entertain hostages?  

I dry my hair and leave it loose. I didn't bring any clothes with me, besides the red dress I came here in, and that is now torn to shreds on the floor. However, I'm not surprised to find a trunk full of women's clothing at the foot of the bed. I hold up a pair of jeans and check the size. My size. I feel sick as it's confirmed that yes, this room was prepared for me. 

Dressing quickly, I catch my reflection in the mirror. Purple bruises blossom around my neck, notably a handprint that sits bright against my pale skin. The bruises complement the scars on my arms. I am a mess, a pathetic and tired mess. 

The bruises sting as I touch them and I push back the tears that well to my eyes. I must be strong. I have to find a way to warn Sam and Dean before it's too late.  

A knock on the door makes me jump. Dinner time. I go to the door hesitantly and open it. A young boy stands on the other side, he smiles up at me and his eyes are black. Another demon. 

"Master Crowley has requested your presence at dinner. Please follow me. "

I follow the boy down the hallway. He goes through the door into the ballroom and I follow him hesitantly. However, when I step inside, the room has changed. A long dining table has replaced the dance floor. The bright coloring of the ballroom has been changed into one of near darkness, the only light coming from candles that are suspended from a chandelier. I can hear low, classical music and the familiarity of the song calms my labored breathing. 

Calm down, I tell myself, it's only dinner. But the words taste like the lie they are. 

Crowley sits at the head of the table, barely visible in the low candlelight. He is staring at me. However, I find that what makes my stomach churn the most is the sight of two women draping themselves over him. 

"Have a seat, Miss." The demon boy motions for me to sit at the other end of the table.

I sit down hesitantly. I look down at my hands, trying to avoid seeing what the women are doing to Crowley. I try to focus on the music so that I don't hear the sounds of pleasure that come from his lips. The groans penetrate my ears. 

What is this? What is wrong with him? 

"Oh hello, darling. I didn't see you there," 

My head snaps up. The women have left and Crowley leans back in his chair, his face dripping in growing egotism. 

"What do you want Crowley?" 

He leans further back in his chair and takes a resounding breath in, "Mhm, I love the sound of my name on your lips. Especially when you're angry at me,"

I don't respond so he keeps at it, "You're almost quivering with rage, aren't you?"

Losing my patience, I stand up from the table and slam my hands against it, "What do you want Crowley?" I repeat, "I am done playing your childish games. If you're going to kill me, then do it already,"