You Are Not Alone

Part 3 ~ What?

Sam was horrified. He'd seen some pretty gruesome things in his time but  this beat them all.

Sprawled in the floor in the middle of the operating theatre was the killer. All around him were hospital patients who had been taken from their beds for one of his sick games. On the operating table there was a little girl in a pool of blood, her blonde hair stained a dull red and her hospital gown ripped beyond recognition. Glancing at the pool of blood on the floor beneath her, Sam just managed to make out what looked like a little teddy bear, its fur matted with blood and worn, no doubt from years of love.

Behind John's body was an old lady, and behind her a middle aged man. Both bore the scars of what their killer had subjected them to.

Sam surveyed the scene before him, beginning to realise exactly what he'd got himself into.

This was a killing spree of a psychopath.

All these people here probably had families and they'd been murdered in cold blood. Sam was used to dealing with deadly monsters, but people were different. With people you could never tell, never understand, why they would do something so horrific. Surely it wouldn't benefit them in any way. All it served to do was to show the world how brutal the human race had become.

Walking over to John's body Sam tried his best to ignore the scene around him. He'd seen enough massacres in his lifetime, what with the leviathans and all those apocalypses, and he didn't necessarily want to see anymore. This job never got any easier but as Dean always said "If we don't do it who will?", so with that thought in mind he steeled himself to continue with his inspection of the scene.

The first thing he had to do was check if the killer was a vamp or any other supernatural entity. After doing all the necessary checks it turned out that he was, in fact, just a human.

Well that makes things even more confusing.

From what Sam could gather it seemed like John had died from asphyxiation, and despite the circumstances Sam felt it was rather fitting since John was supposedly the killer on the loose who'd killed a little girl by suffocating her. Karma really was a bitch.

After a slightly more thorough investigation of the scene before him, Sam decided that whoever killed John must've been lying in wait, ready to pounce as soon as John had finished mutilating his victims.

It was possible that John knew his killer since there was no sign of a struggle. He must've been knocked out before he was suffocated.

Sam just hoped that whoever had killed John was someone who wasn't going to make anymore trouble, But despite all his hopes Sam just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, and that once again the universe was against him.

As Sam made his escape through the back stairwell of the hospital he couldn't help but wonder if this was the same person who had kidnapped Dean. If it was then Sam couldn't bear to imagine what he was going through.

———————

Through the haze of dehydration, Dean could just make out the shape of a door, and what more he could see that door being opened.

He'd been in the same room, if you could even call it that, for at least three days now and in that time the only sustenance he'd received was some scraps of leftover chicken. Nothing else. No other food and no water. He was starving.

He'd been tortured before, what with the whole apocalypse thing that went down, but in some ways this was worse. He couldn't exactly describe how he felt but it was as though he was trapped in his own mind. The only thing to keep him company were his thoughts, and Chuck knows that was never going to end well.

Since he'd been here he'd exhausted his almost infinite knowledge of every Led Zeppelin song known to man and was getting sick of singing the same things over and over to himself in an attempt to stay sane.

This place was really getting to him. The tiny room and the scraps of food reminded him of a time back when he didn't stand up for himself, usually after John had thrown a hunt and used Dean as a punching bag, both verbally and literally. He needed to get out.

BANG

The noise echoed around the room as Dean was yanked out of his thoughts and brought back into the miserable reality he was once again living in.

In a feeble attempt to stay ahead of whatever situation was to become him Dean twisted around, his restraints cutting into his skin as he tried to catch a glimpse of where the noise had come from. From the corner of his eye he saw the door, covered in metal beams and splatters of red so dark against the wood they were almost brown, creak as it was forced open against its will.

Dean began to wonder what horrors awaited him as he waited with bated breath, and readied himself to face the wrath of whoever, or whatever, came through that door.

Then in he walked.

Through the door came a man who was built like his only purpose in life was to kill whatever he came across.

From the blood around his mouth Dean had no doubt that he was a vampire, or well at least he hoped that was the case because if it wasn't then he really had no idea what to do and he wasn't really in the mood to deal with cannibals right now.

Lurching towards him, Dean frantically tried to get away, any ideas of a 'tough guy' reputation to uphold nowhere to be seen. Mud stained boots scraped across the unwashed floor as Dean twisted, contorting himself to manoeuvre around the wooden bean he was tied to, no longer bothered about withholding his reputation as one of the most feared hunters of all time because no matter how good he was, a reputation wasn't going to save him.

The zip tie holding his hands in place seared into his skin as the figure got even closer.

"Well well well, what have we here."
sneered the man, in an obvious attempt to rile Dean up.

It didn't work.

Dean stayed silent as he glared the man down, refusing to be intimidated by some vamp who couldn't even clean himself up after a meal.

"Ohhh, so you're gonna play it tough are you? You think you get out of here without telling me what I want to know? You're wrong. You're gonna tell me everything." The vamp began to slur his words as the stench of alcohol seared Deans nostrils. He'd been drinking. Oh what Dean would give to have a good drink right now. "You and your moose of a brother will eventually tell me everything I need to know about your goddamned angel!"

What?