Tortured Souls

Chapter 13

"Max?", I asked walking over to the small boy who sat by himself on the park bench. I sat down next to him trying to get his attention.

Max didn't move an inch. Either he didn't know I was there or he was really good at ignoring me.

"Listen Max I, I'm sorry", I don't know why I even apologized to him, it just sort of came out of me.

The ground beneath us began to suddenly shake as if the world was angry. I gripped my hands on the bench only to be greeted by something wet and sticky and irritably warm. I looked down horrified to find both my hands now covered in blood. It was then that I realized blood was all around me my feet were practically glued to the ground due to the amount of blood pooling around them.

"It's okay Max, I'll protect you", I assured him, as I went to grab Max's hand I jumped startled by Max turning directly towards me.

My body froze up at the sight before me. Max was not Max. His eyes were pitch black and he had blood oozing out of amlost everywhere. I tried to scream for help, but the only word to escape my mouth was a whispered "Sorry".

"You are not sorry", Max commanded in a incredibly deep and almost inaudible voice, "you did this to me, I'm not the bad guy you are"

My jaw clenched at his accusation. "Max I-", and then it hit me. I did do this to Max. I killed him and now he's nothing but a limp body.

But that can't be right because he is right in front of me.

"Max what happened to you?", I asked. I couldn't control what I was saying. It was like someone else was putting words into my mouth. And everything was pre-set like some kind of movie.

A grimacing smile grew on Max's little face. "It's fine, I'm just a pawn. A test for you. And you passed. I'm dead. I'm not the monster, you are"

I tried screaming again but all I could do was sit there stunned. A burning sensation began to creep up my legs until I was greeted by tremendous pain throughout my whole body. Soon my vision was filled by a blinding yellow light. I was burning. I could smell my skin melting and hear it crackling. The worst part was I could feel it too.

"Lena!", Dean shouted.

I jolted upright in a fit of panic and begin to pat myself down like crazy to exstinguish the flames. Only now there were no flames but blankets covering me. Pain still ran through my body but not as bad as when I was on fire. The whole thing was a dream. Or at least some of it was. Max was dead. That was real. I had killed him. That was also real. But everything else Max said ran through my mind. What did it mean? Did it mean anything?

"Lena?", Dean said again this time a little softer and less urgent.

"Dean", I finally choked out clutching my chest and breathing in some fresh air. I hadn't realized it but I had been holding my breath.

"You okay?", he asked examining my current position.

"Yeah just a bad dream that's all. Bad dream. Bad reality", I assured him.

"You can't save everyone Lena", Dean tried comforting me. Honestly, he could have both arms wrapped around me and we could be floating on a cloud and I still wouldn't be the least bit comfortable. I was too full of self hate, pain (both physical and mental), and the stale taste of whiskey mixed with vomit still lingered on my tongue.

"When can I clean myself up?", I asked Dean eyeing the IV still firmly placed in my arm.

I was a hunter. I could survive knives, bullet wounds, being beaten to a pulp. But if you stick a needle into my vein you might as well have a death wish. Lucky I was out cold when they placed this one in me. The whole medical thing made me queezy. The smells, the tastes, and the cold touch of sterile metal to skin.