KILLER SMILE

WARNING: DARK THEMES AHEAD EG. TORTURE. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU FEEL AS THOUGH YOU WILL/MAY BE TRIGGERED OR NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THESE THEMES. YOUR WELL-BEING IS MY TOP PRIORITY AND IF YOU DON'T CONTINUE I WON'T BE OFFENDED. 

Dean quivered in fear, strapped to a chair and mouth taped shut. He was screaming, yet she couldn't hear it, the only sign of his voice was the slight crinkle of the tape. He wasn't harmed at all; in fact, he looked the best he ever had, with sweat dripping down his face in waves and eyes full of terror. Deans wrists were only slightly irritated from his previous failed fleeing. 

Though it wasn't his painful wrists, the ties restraining him, the tape over his mouth that was making him quake in fright. It was the girl in front of him, with black hair knotted in a crazy bun on top of her head, strands undecided about their destination. Her eyes were strangely empty, and her smile had no joy behind it. 

It was the grin of a killer. 

Her face revealed no emotion, only a void that couldn't be escaped. Her fingers danced across the bars in which he was trapped within, and he again attempted to wriggle out of his ties. At this, her maddened smile grew wider, deepening the void her heart had become. She pulled a sad pout, and spoke in a mocking voice. 

"You stuck there Winchester?" He had no reply, and even if he did, it wouldn't be heard. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to appear brave, when in reality he was screaming at his bladder not to betray him. He put all of the hate and anger he could muster into one glare, but it bounced off her, as though her insanity had become a shield. "Is ickle Dean Winchester scared?" 

Dean's glare hardened, and she sniggered. That laugh sent shivers down Deans spine, and he knew at that moment he was royally screwed. 

"Well ickle Deanie Weanie, it's playtime!" 

Her face lit up as she unlocked the barred door and entered, pulling in behind her a tray of multiple instruments. They ranged from a pair of pliers, to a jagged knife. Every instrument that ever had been used for torture was upon the table, glowing gold in its own glory. 

She let her fingers drum along the whole area of the table, starting off slower and gaining speed. "Is it going to be the hammer?" Her fingers moved quicker, lightly touching the object before hurrying on. "The poker?" She stopped moving her fingers, training her blood thirsty gaze on him. "Or maybe my personal favourite, the knife?" Ebony picked up the lethal weapon, stroking the blade and swiftly wiping her finger across the jagged surface. Blood bubbled up, and she sucked her finger, red staining her lips. "A knife can do a lot of things to a human, and I plan to do them all." She spun the knife, so that the tip of the blade was pointed at Dean. She sung, "I'll do them all to you."

Ebony adjusted her grip on the handle, and advanced on Dean. He shuddered, keeping his eyes looking anywhere but her. She got closer to him, and he clenched his teeth. She finally was in front of him. Ebony crouched in front of him, snatching his head in her hand and twisting it, forcing him to see her. "Much better now."

He fought against her hand, mumbling voiceless insults and swear words. It made her laugh, seeing the man everyone called 'brave' crumble under her will. She'd make Hell seem like a hot summer vacation. 

She giggled and dragged the blade across Deans skin slowly, smiling when she saw the blood surge up to greet her. Dean grunted and tensed his arm, letting his muscles bulge. 

She pressed harder, beckoning the blood to pump more furiously out of the wound. He glared at her with more ferocity she'd ever seen, and it made her feel powerful. She was in control. She had exactly what she wanted. 

She loved it. 

She dug a little deeper, crossing her fingers that she'd see bone. Ebony didn't, and getting bored of that, she picked up the pliers, and danced with glee. 

"Nails are overrated," she said, as she yanked off his middle finger nail. He screamed, the sound muffled, but she can still hear the tone of agony in it. The tone of torment. She grinned, and reached down to rip off another nail. Dean squirmed, moving his hand in different directions so she couldn't get a grip on it. "Stay still!" She demanded, placing her iron like grip on his hand and holding it down. Dean turned his head away, hoping not to watch. 

Ebony tutted. He should've known that she didn't like it when he didn't look. This time, she tightened the pliers around his nail, and gently tugged at it. Dean moaned and she laughed, tugging the nail a little more. The nail was slightly loose now, and bleeding heavily. "Do you want me to kiss your boo boo better?" 

Instantly he shook his head wildly, so much his head was just a blur. "You don't want to be better?" Ebony tilted her head and Dean kept vigorously shaking his head. "But then you won't be in pain, and we don't like pain, do we?" Dean continued shaking his head, praying that she wouldn't kill him. It was funny, how he thought that she would kill him that quickly. 

She ignored him, and lent down. Now they were at eye level, and her eyes never left his as she kissed his nail. In one second, she clamped her teeth down and pulled. Dean shrieked, the high pitched sound still harsh to the ears despite the slight muffle. His eyes watered, and he started to blink rapidly. 

His nail was in between her teeth, and she spat it out, lips no longer pink. "We're having a good time, aren't we?" He said nothing. "Why are you so quiet?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh right, silly me." She ripped the tape off his mouth, and Dean let out a grunt. "Something you want to say?" 

"Screw you." He spat. 

"That's no way to talk to a lady." She picked up the knife again and started cleaning the dirt out of her nails. 

"You're not a lady. You're not even human." 

Ebony stopped her act. She turned her head to him and cackled. "What made you think I was human in the first place?" 

"I never did."

"A little harsh, don't you think?"

"Just like what you're doing to me." 

Ebony let out a noise of disappointment, "But I'm doing this for the right reasons. Not because the Mark is driving me to destroy everything with a heartbeat."

Dean was silent, and she leered at him, waiting to see what bull shit retort he'd come up with. Instead, his head fell, and his voice got smaller. "Why are you doing this?" 

"You wrecked my entire life! You -" she walked closer now, poising the knife over his abdomen. "You burnt what existence I had and stomped on the ashes. You killed -" 

A voice behind her shocked her. "Ebony, what are you doing?"

Ebony gasped in shock, her body jolting in shock, as though she'd been electrocuted and millions of volts were running through her veins. Her hand plunged into Deans gut, the knife sealing his fate. Blood immediately soaked his clothes and his mouth was open. He stared at Ebony in disbelief - even though he knew she was going to kill him he didn't expect it to be like this. 

"No, no no no no no," she clawed at her scalp and pulling her hair out. "I'm not ready! I'm not ready!" She shrieked at the highest pitch, hurling obscenities. Ebony reached over to Dean and pulled the knife out, throwing it out of the room forcefully and yelling at the loudest volume. 

The knife landed next to the voice, and instantly, Ebony Walters knew she was screwed. "Castiel."

*

She sprung up in bed, gasping, clutching her heart. Normally her dreams didn't phase her, in fact, they made her jolly in the morning, but with the sudden appearance of Castiel, she knew her morning was going to be a unique one. 

Sighing, she pushed back the blankets, knowing with certainty that she wouldn't fall back asleep. As her feet hit the floor she was overtaken by an invasion of goosebumps. Shaking and shivering, pushing aside the clothes she wore when vandalising Deans car so she wouldn't trip, she  groped for the light switch that was nearby. 

Her hands trailed the wall, searching for the unfamiliar bulky square that held the key to light. They hit a bump, and guessing it what the switch she fumbled for the middle. Fortunately for her, it was a light switch, and the room was lit up in a faded yellow light, exposing all shadows. 

In the corner of the room stood Castiel, staring at her coldly, with a hint of bewilderment. "Explain." He ordered, marching towards her. 

"Well, you see," her words staggered over each other in her attempt to explain the situation. "I get these dreams, well nightmares really, about me... hurting people. Innocent people. And each time I kill them more slowly than the last." She took a breath, composing herself. "I hate it. They get more gruesome every night and even I can't stomach it. Me! A hunter who's seen it all." 

"You've not seen it all - you didn't know angels existed."

"Well, now I've seen it all." Ebony laughed, cracking her hands nervously. 

Castiel observed her in an unnerving way, as though he could see past the thick pyjamas she was wearing, past the flesh and bone, and see what actually makes her the way she was. He analysed everything she said in his head, assessing every action she made, took notice of the nervous habit she committed before him. 

"You're lying." 

"Of course I'm not. Why would I?" She innocently smiled, going against the instinct to slam him into the wall until his brains oozed out. She didn't do it because she knew it would affect her shaky relationship with the Winchesters, but because he was an angel, and the only thing she knew about them was that so far, they could enter your dreams. She could only dream that she wouldn't suffer the full extent of his power.

"Because you want to get close to the Winchesters. You want to kill them." 

"You're still missing the why part. Why would I want to kill the people who gave me a home, food, water?" She saw his face change as he couldn't find an answer. "You're just deluded. You've been with the Winchesters so long that you expect every person to be a monster. They're not. People like me have faced the wrath of monsters, seen the scars they leave, and that's why we don't turn evil. We've seen the damage they cause, and we don't want to be the reason for that." 

"I am not deluded. I know you're hiding something, and I'm going to find out." He threatened, getting close to her face. 

"If you do that, I'll know." 

"And do what?" 

She noticed something shine near his belt. A weapon. Uncaring as to whether or not it could hurt him, she snatched it up and balanced the tip on his neck. The point drew a tiny speck of blood, and a tiny sparkle of white drifted out. Her mouth was in a thin line, and her eyes held so much coldness Castiel had to supress a shiver. 

"If you tried to find out," she pressed the point in a little deeper, bringing more specks of blood to the surface, "I'd rip off your wings one feather at a time, burning each one to ash in front of your very eyes, and if I feel up to it, burn your stumps off too."

Castiel stood frozen in place, not even able to swallow. He had been right: a dark soul meant a dark person, though he wasn't entirely happy he got to prove his theory. 

"I'm an angel. I can't be destroyed by your mundane tools." 

"I might not be able to kill you, but I can make your existence so terrible you'll wish that someone would."

She removed the weapon from his neck, and put it back where it came from. She patted his cheek, grinning like a madman. "Do you understand?" 

"Yes. Yes I do." 

"Oh yay! Good to know we're on the same page. I'll walk you out." She forced her hand under his elbow and dragged him to the door, opening it. His mind was too busy processing what had happened to notice that a door locked from the outside would open. He walked through it slowly, and just as he was about to leave she pulled him back, whispering in his ear. "Tell no one and you won't need to experience Hell." 

He nodded. He walked away.

"Good night!" She called to his retreating figure, waving to him as though she was a friendly neighbour. Castiel knew this wasn't true: she was truly psychotic. 

-

hey assbutts! okay, so crush update, considering some of you were interested: I nearly tripped over my chair yesterday at school and he was like "be careful" and I melted inside #keepingmycool.
also I'm in the process of writing a marvel fic if anyone's interested - now published under the title 'The Language of Silence'. I also have a whole marvel book written but it has like zero marvel and it's really short - now published under the title 'Dear Agony', along with the sequel 'Addressed to Happiness.' like really really short. would you guys still like me to post it?

adios assbutts!

-thirdwheelchurchill