AN EYE FOR AN EYE

Ebony held the knife to Sam's neck. Her eyes were stone cold, emotionless and unyielding. Her lips were curled into an snarl that made Sam Winchester feel as though he was the prey, and she was the predator. She had the power to kill him, the nerve, the determination. If she killed him, he wasn't sure he'd come back this time. She would make sure he didn't come back.

He swallowed nervously, staring into the girls eyes of whom he'd learned to trust, learned to love like family. Sam tried to find a glimmer of the Ebony he knew, but not even a fleck of mischief was there, her eyes veiled in a stormy night sky. The black hair he used to ruffle playfully in that annoying older brother manner was matted with her own blood, and it trickled down her face. 

She was killing him slowly, and she was enjoying it.

"Do you know how long I've waited to do this, Sam Winchester? It repulsed me to speak to you, made me feel unclean when I laughed with you, and when you hugged me? I always was prepared to stab you in the back," she cackled wickedly, relishing the pain that flashed across his face. "You trust too easily, you Winchesters. All I needed was a sad back story - dead parents and a forgetful sister to pull on the heart strings - and a pretty face. I mean, come on, you guys surely learned that picking people who give you a boner off the side of the street isn't exactly smart. Meg is a perfect example, you felt all tingly when you met her and now Ellen and Jo are dead. Great job cowboy."

She pressed the knife a little deeper, drawing a single drop of blood. The sight of the red oozing from the wound added to the fire in her eyes, sending her mouth curling further up her face. In that moment, Sam realised that she had gone crazy. He didn't know if she'd just suddenly changed or was a Oscar worthy actress - either way he refused to accept it.

"What did I ever do to you? We saved you from the police, gave you a home, gave you people to rely on. You can't just take all of that and throw it back in our faces." Her face twisted into a deeper fury, and letting out a earth-shattering roar she pushed the chair over. It hit the ground with an echoing bang, a sickly smack as his head hit the ground. Now, both of their heads were bleeding.

"You gave me nothing! You stole the one thing that was important to me and you didn't even give a crap!" Her voice thundered across the room, so loud that even deaf people could feel the vibrations.

"What did we steal?" Sam snapped, eyes unfocused. He noticed how Ebony tensed, as though she was preventing herself from killing him so quickly. His voice turned softer, like melted butter. "I can give you it back if you just tell me what we took."

She rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth impatiently. "Winchesters are so oblivious! I swear it's in your genetic coding," she clenched her fists so hard her jagged nails cut into her fragile skin, breaking her. "It's not a something, dumb ass! It's a someone!"

Sam blinked. Was she on about the demon they had tied up in the basement? Maybe she's a demon, Sam thought hopefully. A flicker of light shone in the darkness, and he knew what he had to do.

"Christo." He whispered it, but still she somehow heard it.

"Wow, you tried using the bad word with me. Bravo, you actually remembered to use it this time. Pity I'm not possessed, just crazy." She smiled sweetly, blood stained teeth hiding her pearly whites. He outwardly cringed: he was the reason for that.

Her grin widened when she saw the look on his face, and agonisingly slowly, she pulled the chair back up off the floor. She brought her face close to his, bringing her lips to his ear. "You want to know something about me? I never break my promises. And when I found out she died, because of you damn hunters, I vowed to have your life pour slowly out of you, staining my hands and clothes. But I won't wash them to get the stain out, oh no. I'll frame them." She breathed out, lips brushing his ear lobe, making him shudder. Out of fear or coldness, she didn't know, nor did she care.

Ebony brought her hand on Sam's face, tracing all of the sculpted caves in his face with a sharp finger nail. "I still haven't decided on how to kill you. Maybe I could kill you the same way you killed her, I could draw a rope around your neck and pretend to be heart broken when Dean comes home to see his beloved Sammy hanging from the ceiling, console him, then kill him. Or, I could do it the old fashioned way: torture. Rip you apart nail by nail, make blood fall from every pore in your body, pint by pint. Choose your fate," she waved the knife around, emphasising her points, giving him a small nick when she got too excited. The anticipation was killing her, and Sam knew it.

"Thanks for the choice, but none."

His sass aggravated her even more. She ran towards him, knife poised ready to strike, when she was knocked down. Ebony landed with an oomph on the concrete ground, head slamming down. It made her beyond dizzy, yet her grip on the knife hadn't loosened.

Sam stood up from the chair, shaking off the rope she'd tied hastily around his wrists. He strode towards her, eyes full of remorse. Sam bent down next to her, stroking her hair, "We can make you better. Get you to a doctor, it doesn't have to be like this." Again with the butter voice. That voice pissed her off nearly as much as their existence did.

"Help me," she whimpered, a few tears leaking from her eyes. "I can't live like this any more." Sobs overtook her body, and Sam instantly started soothing her. He used false words of condolence and lies.

She hated them all.

In one fluid movement, she plunged the knife into his foot. It struck bone and Sam screamed in agony. He had never known pain like it, and on instinct hit her across the face. She fell sideways, grasping her cheek.

"You prick!" She boomed, jumping on him. He collapsed to the ground, her straddling his chest. 

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Crack.

Every time she punched him she felt something shatter, each crunch sending a manic smile to her face. His face was a canvas, and she wanted to make something that'd represent all the sorrow she felt, the pain of her loss, the weight of her vengeance. She would make it a masterpiece.

She wanted him to hurt.

She grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and slammed his body into the ground with all the force she could muster. The ground shuddered, the paving below fracturing. Once. Twice. Three times. Ebony kept throwing his body at the floor, screaming obscenities at him at each impact, the spider pattern on the floor growing in size. He deserves it, she thought to herself as his body hit the floor again, and his eyes got duller. He killed her, he shouldn't live. The words encouraged her to keep beating him up, and she felt satisfaction settle deep in her gut.

It's when Sam was on the brink of death did she stop. She stood up, dusting herself off - smearing Sams blood on her jacket - and dragged him back to his little chair. This time, she didn't tie him up. He couldn't even walk, how could he kill her? Smugly, she dragged a chair in front of Sam, sitting on it backwards.

"How does it feel Sam?" He tried to speak but his mouth was so swollen that no words passed his lips. "That's what I thought. Think about it for a moment - the pain you're feeling now, I feel everyday. You can't see it, you think I'm okay, but look at how screwed up it made me be! I can't even breathe, knowing she's gone. Knowing that both of them are gone." She shook her head, attempting to hide the shine in her eyes. "I'm going to give you a chance to guess who you killed, and if you guess correctly, well I'll kill you quickly."

Sam stared at her. "Oh yeah, you can't talk! Silly me," Ebony slapped her forehead comically. "How about I just kill you?" Getting off her chair she leaned down, slowly pulling out the knife in his foot. He groaned, clenching his eyes shut. Well, eye, since the other one had swollen.

Eventually, she yanked it out, chuckling darkly when he grunted. "I'll cut out your heart, seems fitting." Ebony pressed the knife into his chest. "Say goodbye, Sammy Winchester."

A hard force collided with her head, and her body immediately crumpled, as though she was a puppet without it's strings. Dean stood behind her, a candelabra clenched in a iron grip. "No one calls him Sammy but me."

Hurriedly, he threw the candelabra away, quickly grabbing Ebony and wrapping her hands in rope. Despite how much he wanted to kill her, his brothers pleading doe like eyes begged him to keep the small speck of humanity he had left. He had never been able to rebel against him.

"Are you okay Sam?" Dean asked, never taking his eyes off the rope he was double knotting out of caution.

Sam couldn't say anything, only nodding sorrowfully. He was in pain, but it wasn't the physical bruises that were making his eyes water, but the scars left on his mind. Sometimes the wounds people can't see cause the most agony. Now that Sam thought about it, he realised how true that was. They hadn't seen Ebony whimper in pain, yet her body was constantly being broken beyond repair every second of the day.

The pain the brain inflicts on it's host is the worst of all.

Dean noticed Sam's silence but didn't mention it, only securing the restraints on an unconscious Ebony. Dean was ashamed to admit he hadn't seen it coming, even though they got off to a very rocky start. Ever since she had told him about a girl she once good buddies with who had died he couldn't help but feel a connection with her - all of his friends were dead too.

*

Ebony woke up in a blank room. It had blank walls, blank floor, blank bed, blank toilet, blank everything. Everything in the room was a shade of holy white, the purity feeling as though it was burning her skin. She didn't believe in God, even if angels did exist, and she certainly knew he didn't give a damn. If He did, chaos wouldn't rule the streets better than the authorities.

She didn't need to be pure, for the dusk within her couldn't be washed away with the strongest of faiths, and blessed water most definitely wouldn't be the cure. The only cure was to embrace the darkness, welcome it with open arms and greet it hello and wish it a nice, long stay.

A knock sounded at the blank door, and Ebony bolted up in bed, staring at the door that seemed to camouflage into the wall. A man in blue scrubs was carrying a drink of cloudy water, a kind smile permanently glued on his face. He told her his name, which she forgot in seconds. It's not that she was being rude, it's just that she didn't need to remember it when she wasn't going to be staying for long.

"Ebony?" The warm voice beckoned her out of her daze, and she smiled sweetly at him. His voice reminded her of Sam's, and it annoyed her to no ends.

"Yes?"

"Can you drink this?" The nurse moved the drink towards her and her nose involuntarily wrinkled. No drink had that colouring unless she was being drugged.

"Can you stop? I don't see why you're keeping me here."

"You're friends were concerned for you honey. As they should be, you're suffering from -"

Ebony stood up suddenly, face twisted. "They are not my friends!"

She grabbed the drink and threw it at him, screaming every name under the stars at him. "Those murderers are not my friends! How dare you think that I would hang out with such scum!"

Ebony pounced at him, scratching him on the face. Her jagged nails drew blood and he whimpered, shrieking out for help. She ignored his whining and flew her fist at his nose, her knuckles meeting the bridge in a satisfying crunch. His yelling became more hysterical, sending her into a fit of gleeful laughter.

She hadn't even started.

He attempted to grab her wrists to stop her hitting him, but he was weak, and as he was protecting one place he left another vulnerable part of himself open for attack. She kneed him between the legs, and he grunted, bending over in pain. He was an easy target now, and with one blow he was down on the ground, unconscious.

She bent down to hurt him more - though it wouldn't be as fun since she couldn't hear him cry - when security came in. Ebony pulled the mask out and fell to the ground, weeping. Hot tears leaked out of her eyes in streams and and she rocked back and forth, whispering to herself. One of the female nurses walked to her cautiously, poorly hiding a sedative needle behind her back.

"Please help me, I don't know what's wrong with me! I get so angry at times, and it hurts everyone I love and complete strangers! Give me that sedative, it's the least I deserve." She choked this out in a thick voice, letting her lip wobble like a child's.

The nurse gazed at her in sympathy, and smiled at her soothingly when she injected the needle into Ebony's skin. She winced when it entered, and could already feel it's effect. Drowsy, she fell backwards, her lips turning slightly at the corners. She could feel herself being pulled into a whirlwind of memories that would have her shaking from joy and sadness. And in her drugged state, she saw a long lost dead friend.

-

hey assbutts! there's only 2 more chapters left after this and I'm so heartbroken. even though I finished writing Ebony's story a year ago it's weird to think that it'll be coming to an official end soon. I don't think there will be sequel (despite how kick ass my idea is) because I have lots of projects I want to focus on, such as my Civil War fanfic that I'm close to finishing the first draft of.

I also want to say I've been overwhelmed by the sudden amount of positive attention Ebony has gotten. it makes me so happy knowing that people are enjoying this book as much as I loved writing it.

any questions for the Q&A?

adios assbutts!

-thirdwheelchurchill