Hunts From The Winchesters (Brallon)

Four

As soon as the ghoul had dragged Dallon around the corner, Brendon went back to work trying to get the knife out of the wall. He bumped it with more urgency now, unsure how long the ghoul would be willing to play with her food before taking a bite.

He hissed as his shoulder rose into the blade of the knife. He lowered, but felt blood beginning to trail down from the point of impact. "Fuck..."

He rolled his shoulder for a few seconds before going back at getting the knife out of the wall. He needed to hurry. Despite the new pain from accidentally cutting himself, Brendon worked harder at getting the knife out of the wall. He could feel it loosening. It was getting closer...

The knife clattered to the floor, followed by a cry of success from Brendon. Now he just had to get the knife into his hands...

"Fucking hell..." Brendon hissed as he adjusted his position. The knife was just out of the reach of his fingers. He angled himself to jump on his butt and catch the handle under his cheek.

"Finally!" Brendon managed to bring the knife close enough to grip. He moved as fast as he could in his restraints, swearing when the knife threatened to slip from his fingers.

When the restraints finally gave, Brendon rushed to get to his feet. He was running out of time. That escape had taken too long. He needed to find Dallon and the Ghoul.

Brendon held the knife firmly in his hand as he made his way across the room he had been held in. The Ghoul hadn't bothered to lock him in. He paused, listening for some kind of sound to indicate where they were. It was silent...

Until there was a thump downstairs.

Brendon hurried to the basement door. He leaned against the wall just beside it and listened.

"Wake up!" The Ghoul was growling, "I like it when my food squirms."

Brendon pushed the basement door open. By some miracle, it didn't squeak.

"What did you do with her?.." Dallon's voice sounded weak and disoriented. At least he was still alive.

"Haven't you heard?" A laugh followed by another thump, "She's dead!"

Brendon was creeping down the cement steps, keeping in the shadows. The basement seemed to be a morgue. There was a wall of metal hatches and two metal tables with small trays of tools beside them. The two figures Brendon was looking for, however, were at the room's opposite end. The Ghoul  was standing over Dallon, looking ready to pick him up and throw him.

"She tasted so good." The creature taunted, kneeling down in front of Dallon. "What a woman."

Brendon eyed the tools on one of the small tables. Was any of it silver?

"Why?" Dallon croaked as the Ghoul grabbed his shirt. "Why her?"

The Ghoul growled, pulling Dallon closer. "To get closer to you." It grinned before biting into Dallon's arm.

The human cried out in pain. It was quickly drowned out by a howl of pain from the Ghoul. The knife Brendon had been holding had been plunged into the creature's spine. It released Dallon and fell to the floor.

"Let's go!" Brendon grabbed hold of Dallon's uninjured arm and pulled him up. Dallon stumbled, but Brendon managed to get him going in the direction of the stairs.

"Hunter!" The Ghoul screeched. It jerked it body, successfully dislodging the knife.

Brendon took a step back. "Son of a bitch."

The Ghoul grinned wickedly before running towards him. Brendon ducked out of the creature's way, barely avoiding being tackled.

The creature snarled, spinning to face him. It went to lunge at him, but stopped. It turned to look at its arm, catching the sight of dripping blood.