Through Demon Eyes

Come With Me Now

Through the Eyes of a Demon

"Afraid to lose control

And caught up in this world

I've wasted time, I've wasted breath

I think I've thought myself to death " Kongos – Come With Me Now

Dean opened the door to the dive bar and inhaled. The miasma of lust, loathing, fear, hate, regrets and wasted lives filled his nostrils. The First Blade's song worked it's way up his spine, his tongue traced over his teeth, hungry, he was so hungry.

"Yeah, this will be a good place to start the night."

He rolled his shoulders, loosening them up and noticed several women trying to hide the fact that they were looking at him.

"Too easy, they are so easy."

Taking his time, he made his way to the bar, making sure to catch each and every eye that looked at him. He felt a lazy, inviting grin take hold of his face. The blonde in the back corner and the red head at the bar gained his interest. The blonde because he could feel her hate of whoever stood her up radiating off of her and the red head because she caught his look and challenged him right back.

"What game do I want to play tonight?"

"l'll take a double, straight." He told the bartender, who had already pegged him as trouble. Dean saw the tension in the bartender's shoulders pick up, the glance at the gun under the bar and the small warning shake of his head. Fighting wasn't Dean's plan yet, so he sat down, placed both of his hands on the bar and gave the bartender a nod and a smile. The bartender's instincts were better than most so he didn't return Dean's grin.

"Another night maybe, but not tonight."

The First Blade registered it's disappointment, the mark on his arm burned for the briefest of moments.

"Later, I promise, later." The Blade and he, they understood each other. It demanded little from him, put no conditions on him, just wanted to help him, free him. Free him from responsibilities, consequences, family. None of those things mattered. He remembered the years and years he hated demons, now he was one and all he could think about was how stupid he had been for so long. Those thirty years in Hell, he should have taken the knife from Alistair on the first day.

This, this was living, this was freedom.

The blonde, definitely more fun. She had a half empty drink at her table, anger and disgust on her face and she kept looking at her phone. Her hair was held up by a pair of intricately decorated chopsticks, she had curled and styled it so it framed her face perfectly. The makeup she wore, silver and blue eyeshadow, light pink lipstick that caught the light, flawlessly clear skin made her appear almost too perfect. He wanted to ruin it, the image of perfection, she wasn't perfect. Being a demon he could see her sins, her pride, her pettiness, her recent affairs, her lies. Now he knew why Crowley, Ruby, Meg, Lucifer, all of them had known exactly how to twist he and Sam. They saw it all, his old self loathing and emptiness. Sam's pride, selfishness, lust for power. It was as clear as day to his demon eyes. He had to admit, none of the demons had ever really lied to them. Why lie? Lying is so much harder than telling the truth, the real truth. The truth that drives people mad, makes them kill, cheat, lie and deceive. What people try so hard to hide, their true nature, that's the playground of a demon. And he wanted to play.

He kept his eyes on her, she got up and went to the bathroom. Her dress barely covered her assets, it was white, almost see through and she only had a bra on underneath. The bar had black lights, which pretty much highlights everything, especially when you wear white.