TORTURE, SUPERNATURAL

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ. ʀᴀɢᴇ

I fall to my knees, breathless. 

Where am I? 

I look up, my eyes stinging, and feel the burn of the sun on my body. Crowley stands beside me, patting off his maroon suit, a grim expression on his face. 

We are in a dense forest. The sun shines down on me, lighting up the area we are in. Despite the sun, the forest is quiet and eerie. The smell of the forest reminds me of hunting and I run my fingers over the thicket of moss beneath me, feeling the morning mist over my hand. 

But why are we here? Has he brought me here to kill me? I can not help but think that at least it would be a nice place to die. It's quiet, there are daises growing at the edge of the clearing and the sun is warm on my body. But before I can tell him to hurry it up, Crowley rolls back his shoulders and walks right into the forest, not even sparing me a glance as his maroon back disappears into the green wall.   

I get to my feet, brush off the jeans I thankfully chose to wear this morning, and take a confused step forward. Where did he go? Why would this James Mortem Bailey be in a forest? Why are we here? 

I follow in the direction Crowley went. 

The forest is wet and thick. Roots clamber over the top of each other, making it hard to walk in shoes with no grip. As I struggle to follow in the direction Crowley went in, I find myself slipping every meter, my hands start to get red and raw and my clothing gets damp. I curse at Crowley. Is this my torture? A hike in a forest in the wrong clothing? 

As I try to climb over a log, my shoelace gets snatched and I shout as I go to fall face-first into the ground. The shout gets caught in my throat as someone yanks me to my feet. 

Crowley glares at me as he lets go of my wrist and wipes his hand on his pants, grimacing at the dirt smudge it leaves behind. 

He looks at me. "I forget how slow humans are. Please try not to impale yourself on a log Aderyn, we're not here for you," 

I wipe my own hands on my pants and glare at him, "Couldn't you have just done your zippy zappy magic to get us closer to wherever it is we're supposed to be going?" 

"I don't come with a built-in GPS, I'm not a bloody Tesla. " 

I frown, not knowing what a Tesla is. However, before I can come up with a witty insult, he turns back around and keeps stomping through the hellish forest. We walk together for a few minutes before we get to another clearing. 

Crowley stops at the edge, just enough to be able to see but still remain hidden. I step up beside him, a safe meter away, and peer through two trees. 

A man stands in the clearing, hands on his hips, a wolfish smile across his long, pasty face. He's dressed all in black, his hands even covered with black gloves. He's talking to someone but I'm too far away to hear it. 

Then, two more men dressed in the same outfits, step out from the other side of the clearing. They too have wolfish grins on and it's not until I see the limp girl they drag between them that I realize why they're all so happy. She's not moving. I step closer. They have knives in their hands and more weapons at the feet of the older man. My body is aflame as I realize what I'm seeing. I am ready to fight, my blood pounds in my ears. 

I take another step forward. I go to take another when Crowley throws his hand out in front of me. 

"Don't. Not yet." 

I spin towards him in disbelief, "You're going to let them kill her?" I whisper, pleading with my eyes for him to be joking. 

He looks at me. "No Aderyn. But I need you to know a few things first," 

I frown. I've seen enough. "What?" 

"These men, all three of them, are convicted serial killers. That girl," he gestures to the girl that they've now laid on the mossy ground, "Is barely sixteen years old. Her parents are waiting for her at home, she was supposed to be there two hours ago after volunteering at the local homeless shelter," 

I've forgotten how to breathe. Crowley keeps talking. 

"That young girl will be the fifth girl from Seattle that they've abducted, tortured, raped, and killed. They usually leave the bodies in the forest for wolves to get rid of. They don't care. They go to the funerals and smile. They are worse than any Demon I know. They are the real monsters. They are the work that keeps me up at night, and they are the creatures that I torture in Hell." 

I know how to breathe and it is all rage. 

Crowley smiles slowly, "I didn't bring you here to kill you. I brought you here so you can kill them, for me."