Second Generation (Supernatural Sam x OC)

Chapter 6: Knights in Blood Splattered Flannel

Although the first few days were rough, it just continued to get worse. Elliott could feel her hope of escaping this concrete prison dwindle each passing day, along with her strength. It was day eight in this Hell hole if her calculations were correct. Not that she could see the sun or even a clock. She was only able to tell another day had passed by when she woke to find the opposite demon she had seen before she shut her eyes. They seemed to be on a schedule. One day yellow eyes would pump her up with demon blood and the next day Alastair got to 'train' her.

By train, they meant torture. Even when the pain was too much and she shamefully gave in to him and called him 'sir' Alastair had tortured in other ways. Worse ways. Elliott had been so proud of herself up until that moment. She had refused to give into the bastards demands, held her head up tall against all the excruciating pain. If it weren't for that fucking blowtorch, she knew she could have held out longer. If she could have just pasted out from the painful flames like she had from his other tools, she wouldn't have given in. Alastair had stopped melting her flesh the moment she screamed her submission.

"Stop! Please-!"

"All you have to do is say the word Barbie." He taunted over the roar torch.

"S-s-sir, please st-stop, S-sir." She stuttered in shame.

When the torch was turned off silencing the room she panted in relief, her shame taking a backseat as she revealed in the moment of peace. The after burn took a second longer to feel but was just as torturous as the flame itself and had her relief turn to hissing cries. Melted burned flesh throbbed with scorching heat along her left leg. On both the inside of her thigh and along the back of her calf her flesh was charred black and bloody. Not to mention the burn on her ankle from the second session with the demon.

"See, now that wasn't so hard now was it." He set the torch down then turned to her hanging form, with a wicked smile. "Now, as your teacher I am here to show you discipline, but what kind of teacher would I be if I didn't reward good behavior?"

Of course, Alastair's form of reward was not a reward at all. The thought of his cold bloody hands on her bruised and used skin had her trembling. According to the yellow eyed demon if she just 'quit being a stubborn little bitch Alastair wouldn't have to go that far'.

Elliott hung there shamed, hurt, and not even fully conscious. The mixture of Alastair's 'reward' and the after burn on her flesh had her floating in her head. She clung to it, dreaming of her brother, friend, and the beautiful Winchester. Knowing when she woke, she would be strapped down to the cold table and given demon blood. The thought of the demon blood numbing her pain had her heart zinging with need, and that scared the crap out of her. She didn't want it, but she needed it. She needed the demon blood to numb the pain. Unfortunately, she was sure that's what the demons were planning on. Doing her best to fight through the craving she focused her cloudy dreams again towards Max, Bobby, Dean and Sam.

Commotion from outside her windowless concrete room threatened to wake her as she hovered in between sleep and consciousness. The only door creaked open like it usually did. Elliott fought but was losing her battle to stay asleep. Giving all she could to cling on to the dream like state. Instead of the slowly approaching footsteps of the yellow eyed demon she could have sworn she heard a sharp inhale, but she knew she was just on the edge of wakening up fully.

"Ellie-" a familiar voice breathed out, then there was a rush of footsteps. Strange dream she thought eyelids heavy and closed.

Two warm fingers touched her neck, making Elliott spasm away as much as she could hanging by her wrists and began shouting. "No!-No-No-No-Don't! No more!" Her voice croaked more than shouted as her body trembled. Breathing fast and shallow, unfocused eyes wide doing their best to see which demon was in front of her, terrified Alastair might have come back for a round two. The large warm hands moved to steady her struggles.