Flightless Bird (Supernatural Fanfiction)

The Best Torturers (10)

"It's not hard, really." Meg tells me. I roll my eyes, throwing my hands into my pocket.

"Oh no? You really don't get humans do you?" I retort, scuffing my shoes off the concrete floor, bodies lay in a heap around us in the empty room. Although it wasn't quite empty. Hooks and chains hung from the ceiling while the heated scent of blood hung in the air.

"Sorry Ms.Winchester, but you have it easy. We could hand you back over to Alastair, I know how much Crowley loved the way your screams always seemed to be the loudest." Meg said and I felt my head drop. Her sigh was heavy as she walked over to me. "Listen Scarlett, Crowley wants to send a piece back out on the board to play. You are who he wants and the date he chose is getting close. If you aren't ready by then, he is shoving a demon down your throat to do his bidding and then it is going to play out until you will be ready....and if you aren't, who is to say you will remember any of this once that demon is in your body? You may not remember our little 'dates' Scar and if you don't, you will be stuck with her for a long, long time."

I awoke in a cold sweat, shivering underneath my coat yet sweat dripped from my forehead from the dream...or rather the memory. Everything was coming back to me, slowly but surely and it was like, I had a life I didn't even know about, which I suppose I did. So, does it mean I still have that demon inside me? The demon that nearly killed the boys. The demon that killed all those people because Crowley said so.
It didn't make sense. Why me?
If anything it was probably because I could most successfully get to the Winchester's.
Well guess who's not your bitch anymore Crowley? Guess who is doing just the opposite of what you wanted. I'm staying clear if the Winchester's, at least until I can sort this out.

It's been three days. I warded myself from Castiel and I've been ignoring every call Dean and Sam made to my phone, only listening to the voice mails. It was basically the same thing over and over again. "We need an explanation" or "Please come home" or "We need you" but it didn't make me feel any more or less shitty about abandoning them. Yes, it was the right thing to do, but it didn't feel like the right thing.

My phone rang for the first time that day as I sat up from the bench in the bus station, staring at the screen. Dean. Again, I let it go to voicemail.

"You're popular," a male's voice cooed from a sleeping bag to my left. There were 13 of us 'camped' out here, struggling to get a bus to anywhere, but none of us ever spoke. "they must miss you." I nodded.

"I suppose." I replied.

"Parents?"

"Dead."

"Sorry."

"I was 10 and 19, no big deal. It was awhile ago." From the corner of my eye, I watch him nod once before looking directly at me.

"Who is it that you're running from?" he questioned curiously before I turned to face him. It was dark but I could make our dark eyes and ginger hair.

"We don't know each other."

"Right,"

"We literally just met,"

"Continue,"

"And you just asked the most broad and soul crushing question anyone could ask me right now. Why?"

"Look at it this way, we are one in the same. My parents are both dead, car accident in '97, was brought up in foster homes all over the place and as soon as I turned 18, I ran. I've been gone for 4 years and haven't looked back. That's what I'm running from and you now know more about me then my best friend." he says diligently. "We're two strangers who will never meet again. Why not?"
I was going to have to stretch the truth a lil bit obviously, but he was right in a really weird way. We would never meet again, why not let off a little bit of steam?