Second Generation (Supernatural Sam x OC)

Chapter 5: Yellow Eyes

                                                         **Warning for torture and blood**

Pain. That was what brought Elliott out of the darkness, it increased as she became more aware. A sharp throb from the back of her head radiated throughout her skull. The pain made opening her eyes difficult. Her sore cheek felt swollen and puffy. She groaned out loud at the pressure pulsing in her skull. When her hand didn't come up to rub her temples her eyes popped wide open to look down. Breath caught in her throat panicking.

She was strapped down on a cold metal examining table. Many leather straps buckled tightly to hold her in place. Her sternum, hips, wrists, knees, and ankles were all strapped down, so tight they hurt, digging roughly into her skin and sure to leave a mark. Elliott shivered, looking down at her nearly nude form. The cold air had goosebumps raising all over her skin as she was dressed in nothing but her bra and panties.

"No." Elliott sucked in a sharp breath, pulling against the restraints testing their hold. Nothing no give, not even an inch. All her struggles got her were leather biting into her skin. Without stopping her struggles, she scanned her surroundings, looking for an exit. A dim lightbulb flickered above her casting the small room in shadows. Smooth concrete flooring covered in dark stains and slanted slightly to the center of the small room to what looked like a drain. She shivered again not wanting to think about why the drain was needed. The walls were not much different made of heavy concrete cinder blocks. No windows, putting two and two together she figured she was underground. A shiny metal kart sat at the other end of the small room, too far from her view to see its contents. With the tight restraints limiting her movement she could only twist her head around at an awkward angle to see the wall behind her. Just barely able to make out a wooden door. The only exit. Her only way out.

"No, no, no," The restraints held tight not letting her budge and bruising her wrists. Think, think, think... Remember your training. She reminded herself. Elliott Anders was a hunter, if anyone could get out of this strange predicament she could. Grounding her teeth in frustration at the unescapable restraints Elliott growled. Maybe if she had been in her leather jacket, she could have reached her small dagger hidden along the sleeve, she could have freed herself. She swallowed hard hopping that was the only reason she was so exposed.

Elliott let her head fall back to rest on the table hissing at the pain. She probably still had a concussion. Thoughts racing as she stared intently at the celling. Why was she even here? Surely the demons had made a mistake. What would they even want with her? Did they know that she could heal people? But even so why would demons care about healing when they could just jump from body to body? Was Max okay? Sam? Dean? Her thoughts spun like a carnival ride in her head, round and round they went. Although she had no way to tell time, it felt like hours that past, while she just lay there shivering, as thoughts continued to circle in her head. She was beginning to think that the demons had just left her there to die.

Muffled sounds from behind the wooden door had Elliott's breath quicken. A distinct click of a lock met her ears soon followed by the creek of the door slowly swinging open. If Elliott wasn't in such a terrible position, she might have found it annoyingly cheesy like in a bad horror movie. Heavy boots thumped against the concrete, slowly approaching her from behind, out of her line of sight. Her body tensed stealing herself for what might be coming.

"Finally awake, are we?" A deep yet smooth voice purred out of sight. "-and here I thought sleeping beauty would sleep through all of the fun."

The man stepped closer, to the girl strapped to the table, yet still masked by the shadows in the dull flickering light. Elliott could only could only see the man from the neck down. He was tall. Very tall. Maybe even as tall as Sam, but she couldn't be sure, not at this angle. Almost anyone would seem tall from the view she had lying back on the table. He wasn't just tall though. He was built, big and muscular. The man's shirt stretched tightly over his broad chest and shoulders. Displaying his rippling muscles. It was obvious this demon had chosen this meatsuit for a reason, both strong and intimidating.