Hollow Promises

The Third Day

You wished you could forget the screams. The vamps began to claw at themselves, desperate to hasten their death. You and Sam killed the blood suckers while Dean skewered the people...no, things, coughing black smoke.

Warfare was not glamorous.

Even with the dead man's blood raining down on them, the strength they possessed was a difficult match for your own.

The sprinklers couldn't clean your bloodied hands fast enough. As fast as the three of you swooped in, the water dripped from your clothes, and stopped pelting the tops of your head. Oh hell.

You look around the room, frantic to see the problem when you spot a limp Luke slide his hand down the wall from an emergency lever. He trembled with the effort of keeping himself upright.

You slam your hand on a saw table and jump over the jagged blades, he wasn't going to escape you again. You grip his chin and tilt his head towards the rafters. Blood mixed with water and dripped into his unblinking eyes.

"What have you done?!" Narkissa stood on a walkway above, a piece of peeling metal bowed from the wall and sheltered her from the poisoned water. She covered her mouth as her free hand gripped the form next to her.

He was shorter than Dean, but had a few inches on you, a crisp white shirt hung over his thin arms. Though he was physically smaller, sinuous muscles roped his bones, "Stay back my love," his tone rolled, seasoned from decades of smoking cigars.

You felt the promise of death radiate from him. Your fingers on Luke dug deeper into his neck. It-it's them. My god, six years later and they're unchanged.

"Vesh...they killed them all," Narkissa's manicured hand fell from her white lips.

"Then they shall share in our fallen's fate," the Baron of Shadows leapt from the catwalk.

Sam dropped to his knees, barely missing the strike zeroing in on his head, however a knee followed close behind.

Vesh landed with a thud equally to Sam's body hitting the floor, the spray of water barely made him flinch. He turned towards Dean with a loathsome grin on his face.

The eldest Winchester drew a second knife, tension coiled his posture.

He doesn't stand a chance! You hiss your breath through your teeth so hard, spit landed on your lower lip. Wrenching Luke's exposed neck, you bring your machete down. But a wrecking ball knocked into your side and sent you sailing into a saw table, your blade never found it's mark.

"No," Narkissa stalked towards you. Water pooled around her boots, sending ripples and skewing your reflections, "I will handle you young one," the tips of her raven hair were wet with moisture, but she didn't recoil from the droplets that fell, "I'm glad you came."

"Why the sick obsession," You rise to your feet, shaking the water from your coat. You squeezed the handle on your machete from fury and fear, "It's unbecoming." No, no, no don't slip up now. Focus Y/n, focus. You narrow your eyes, She is within your grasp.

"Obsession? I am not the one who wasted six years on a vendetta," Narkissa reveals her own blade, "You are but a blink in my eternity."

A shout tears from your throat as you crash your machete into her weapon. Narkissa pushes you off, but you feel her hesitation, "Oh," you grunt, " You feeling tired already?"

She grunts and shoves you back, coming at you harder, "You tell me murderess!" It was true. She had yet to recover from the poisoned blood and it sapped her strength. That didn't ease her rage.

You shout as she tackled you onto a table, limbs and knives tangled in each other as you rolled across the wood. Both of your grips were tight on each other. You felt the tips of your nails dig into her arms, but when you flicked your eyes down in between breaths, the scratches had already begun to heal.