Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
"Do whatever it takes, Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins."
Whatever it Takes by Imagine Dragons
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My brain was on fire, despite the cold dirt floor I had been lying on. It was coarse against my cheek, and as I pursed my lips, I could feel the stickiness on my cheek collecting dirt from the ground.
I groaned loudly as my eyes fluttered. My hands slowly made it's way to my head, and I cringed as my palm brushed against the wetness that smeared across my chin. It wasn't until then, as I dabbed at the blood, that I remembered everything that had happened.
"Dean," I managed to choke out.
I rolled myself over onto my stomach and kept my head low, not wanting to sit up to quickly and cause the rush of blood to knock me back out.
"Dean," my voice was more panicked, and I coughed as the sharp breaths caused me to inhale the dirt. I heard him grunt from somewhere close, but as I opened my eyes, darkness surrounded us, and I could see nothing more than the light peeking through the wooden boards above us.
I felt his leg brush against mine as he moved around. He was patting the ground, and he sighed in relief as his hand wrapped around my calf. He scooted closer, dragging himself across the dirt floor, and I felt his hand wrap around my forearm, and with care, he helped me up slowly.
"Are you okay?" he asked me as I blinked, trying to accustom myself to the dim light that illuminated the small dirt cellar we were in.
I ran my hands slowly over my body, ensuring that everything was still intact and that I wasn't missing any organs, and nodded.
"You?" I asked him, noticing a bit of blood at his bottom lip.
He seemed fine otherwise, and I followed his gaze to a set of stairs that led up to a rickety-looking door that looked like we could break right through. He stood up, and without a word, he started ramming into it as if the rotting boards would break.
"Dean, it's useless," I muttered as I watched him heave himself over and over again. "Dean!"
"What?!"
I stared at the bit of him I could see in the dim light. "It's not going to work."
"Well then, maybe you should try to do something instead of just standing there," he growled before ramming into once more. He sighed heavily and sat at the bottom of the steps, his head falling into his hands.
I pulled the hem of my shirt up, wiping the blood from my nose, and tried to collect my thoughts. This wasn't expected, but it wasn't the worst thing to happen.
"This is what we wanted to begin with, isn't it?" I asked him. "Wasn't your original plan for us to be bait?"
"Yeah," He snapped. "But I wasn't expecting to be blindsided and served up on a golden platter to a god."
