lux_tuli

Title: "The Feast of Demons"

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Teen

Pairing(s): Gen-fic

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Lucifer

Word Count: 5,616

Prompt: Horror - Supernatural/Occult
Summary: [AU] Sam is a witch that works as a Supernatural consultant for the PAPD. One day he gets a case about a group of witches that were murdered. At first it appears that it was just a hate crime but the more that Sam looks into the case, he discovers that there is much more going on. And now he has to track down a demon before he kills again.

Written for: SPN Flash Bang - October 2016

Originally posted: October 31, 2016

The Equal Protection Act of 1995, a still controversial piece of legislation passed by Congress, afforded to supernatural and magical beings the same rights as non-magical humans. Fifty years ago the existence of the supernatural became known to the humans and this knowledge rattled them in an incident that later became known as The Great Exposure. Prejudice then brewed between the two groups.

Peace between the supernatural and humans was in a fragile state.

It was for that reason Sam Winchester had kept his magical powers generally to himself. Though, an incident during his time at Stanford university exposed his powers to the public and he was then recruited to the Palo Alto police department as a Supernatural consultant. He was called onto the scene of any crimes that involved the supernatural, providing his insight and assisting the investigation.

The human that he was always partnered with was Charlie Bradbury, a vivacious redhead. She was more open minded than most and did not look down at Sam as many others did for being a witch.

---

Sam had swung by the local coffee joint to pick up an order for himself and Charlie before he headed over to the police station. He knew that Charlie was much happier with some caffeine in her system to give her mind a boost. It was early December and the weather was starting to get nippy, no longer any days where the temperature was still moderate enough to pass by with just a light jacket. As a consultant, Sam was not required to wear a police uniform, just something that looked nice so today he wore a wool sweater with a scarf around his neck.

When he got to the entrance of the station, Sam saw a brown furred wolf waiting expectantly. He instantly recognized those green eyes. Dean.

“Hey, I told you that you don’t need to accompany me to work.” Sam shook his head as he opened the door and his brother followed him inside. Ever since Dean had been bitten and turned into a werewolf, he was having an extremely difficult time holding down a single job. People were either reluctant to hire a werewolf in the first place or after he had managed to land a job, Dean would get in a fight with one his coworkers, which normally involved them possessing a bigoted attitude toward the supernatural.

It was useless to attempt to argue with his brother, he was incredibly stubborn and attempting to sway his mind would be a Herculean task. Sam sighed as he finally relented, “Fine, just behave, okay?”

Dean barked at him. Charlie was already reading through a file when Sam walked over to her and handed her cup. “Hey, we got a case already?”

“Yup,” Charlie let the “p” pop out of her mouth. She offered Sam a sympathetic look before continuing, “A couple of witches were found mutilated in their coven apartment on Bellmonte.”

Sam felt Dean nudge him in the side with his nose, letting him know that he was there. Dean had always been a protective older brother. He let out a deep breath, “Hate crime?”

“Looks like. Seems pretty open and shut case to me but we won’t know for sure until we check out the scene.” Charlie nodded then smirked as she looked at Dean and patted him on the head, “By the way, cute dog. You might want to throw a K-9 vest on him if you want to take him along.”

Dean wagged his tail in excitement at the prospect of wearing a K-9 vest. Charlie knew that his brother was werewolf and had met him before but she had yet to see him in his wolf form.

“He’s not a pet. This is my brother Dean.” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. Dean whined as Charlie’s hand dropped from where it was rubbing his head and her eyes widened.

“Dean!?” She exclaimed and Dean nodded his head to confirm.

“Umm, is there a reason why he is prancing about in his wolf form?” Charlie spoke in a hushed whisper so that no one, well no human as supernatural beings had superior hearing, could overhear them.

“I don’t know. I think he gets a kick out of it. He’s in full control so you don’t have to worry.” The only time one had to really worry about werewolves was during the night of the full moon, which caused them to lose control and give into their more base instincts. With practice, a werewolf could learn how to use an anchor to maintain control over themselves but Dean was still learning all the ropes of being a werewolf. Werewolves operated in packs, an alpha that acted as the leader and the rest were betas. Though on occasion a werewolf went rogue but thankfully Garth had accepted him into his pack. Dean let out a happy yip when Sam scavenged around the station for a K-9 vest and put it on him.

“Well, I supposed he could sniff out evidence for us.” Charlie considered as she looked at Dean. Along with the hearing, werewolves had an excellent sense of smell.

“No.” Sam told Dean when he had opened the front passenger door to briefly set down his stuff and his brother tried to jump in, “You’re not riding shotgun. Wolves sit in the back.”

He then opened the back door and stared at his brother expectantly until he complied. On the driver over to Bellmonte, Sam took the time to review the facts of the case.

Four female victims, all witches in the Coven of Ravenmore, a two hundred year old coven that was founded by Adia Ravenmore who had migrated to America to escape the War of the Second Coalition.

The first witch was Amber Denisson. Mid-30s. Owner of an antique shop.

The second witch was Lydia Hayes. Late-40s. School teacher.

The third witch was Margaret Denisson. Early-20s. Niece of Amber Denisson. College student.

The fourth witch was Rita Simmons. Late-30s. Pottery maker.

All of the victims’ records were spotless, not even a misdemeanor or parking ticket. Unfortunately, even ruling out a crime organization, it did not help out much to narrow the pool down as there was lots of hate groups. Some just hated the supernatural and were okay with witches, which one of those groups would be unlikely as the perpetrator here. Some hated witches and okay with the supernatural. And most hated both equally. To most of them, it did not even matter if you lived a law abiding life, they hated you on the mere principle of being a supernatural or magical being.

The unfortunate part was that while the Equal Protection Act had afforded rights to supernaturals, any crimes committed against them were not legally recognized as hate crimes in the way that crimes against LGBT or minorities were. And if you happen to be both a supernatural and LGBT or minority, it was not categorized as a hate crime at all. On top of that, people that committed these hate crimes got a lesser sentence by a judge than if they had done the same against a human.

The apartment was gruesome to put it mildly. Not only were the bodies dismembered into tiny bits, blood was sprayed everywhere, all across the walls and floors. Sam spotted Dean’s nose twitch in revulsion at the smell. He paused in his scanning of the apartment as he started to pick up traces of residual magic. They could have tried to cast a protection spell before they were attacked.

“I’m not sure what, but they had used magic before they were killed as I can feel traces of it in here.” Sam informed Charlie since she, being an ordinary human, could not sense this stuff like he could.

“Defensive?” She inquired, perusing through the contents of the coffee table with gloves.

“Probably but it’s hard to be sure. Aside from potions, it's hard to dissect magic after the fact.” Sam wanted to leave open the possibility that it could be something else because you never knew. His interest was piqued by what looked to be a dark bound book hidden underneath a pile of entrails and blood. Pulling on gloves as he hunched down and sucked in a deep breath, he carefully picked aside the bits so he could pull out the book. He let out a gasp as he looked at the cover and the front page, which while blood splattered was still readable. “Holy hell, this is the Book of the Damned!”

“What’s that? And why does it have you in so much awe?” Charlie asked.

“This book contains very dark magic. It was written by a Spanish nun seven hundred years ago. We’re talking about spells that could end the world.” And it was rumored to be capable of summoning the Devil himself.

“Shouldn’t a dangerous book like this be under heavy lock up? How the hell did these witches get a hold of this?”

“That’s a good question. I thought that the Book of the Damned was a mere myth since it had not been seen since the early 20th century. Even still, it should have not been easy to acquire considering its reputation. I doubt that there is a witch out there who hasn’t heard of it.” Sam stood up, straightening out his knees, and put the book inside a plastic evidence bag. “I think we should keep this on the downlow. Don’t want it getting into the wrong hands.”

“That’s fine with me. Just knowing what it is capable of gives me the creeps.” Charlie agreed.

“Dean, did you find anything?” Sam asked. He had seen his brother sniffing through the apartment but he had not made any noise to alert him of anything. In response to his question, he shifted back to his human form, the vest hanging around his shoulders like a shawl and completely naked.

“Dear lord!” Charlie shrieked and covered her eyes.

“Seriously, Dean? You and I both know that it’s only in fiction that werewolves shift back into their human forms with their clothes on.” Sam scolded him as he rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it’s not like I can speak to you when I’m a wolf. I will change back as soon as I tell you what I picked up on.” Dean crossed his arms.

“Well, what is it?” Sam prodded.

“Sulfur. The place reeks of sulfur.” His brother answered before shifting back into his wolf form, which allowed Charlie to finally uncover her eyes.

“Sulfur? What is the significance of that?” She asked Sam.

“I don’t have any personal experience but supposedly the smell of sulfur typically indicates the presence of a demon.” He had read about demons in all the lore books, it was practically Witch 101, but he had never desired to encounter any. It was dark magic to invoke a demon and Sam was determined to not cross the line between light and dark because all too often it was a slippery slope. He had heard the horror stories of witches just testing the waters out of curiosity to see what it was like then becoming completely obsessed to the point that it destroyed their lives.

“Demons. You’re telling me that they exist!?” Charlie exclaimed in shock.

“Yeah. They’re hard to pick out unless you know what you are looking for since they always take a human for a vessel.”

“Damn, this feels like this should be way above my paygrade. Though, it is not like the department is sporting a team of exorcists either.” Perhaps it was time for Sam to pull out his old books to look up protection wards against demons.

---

There was always the stereotype that witches worshipped Satan but the truth of it was that they only represented a fraction of the group. Some of them worshipped the “old” gods and revered nature while others were atheists. Sam personally fell under a separate category as agnostic.

They had done all that they could with the apartment so they moved onto interviewing the neighbors, which were other witches in the coven. Like most other nonhumans, they were distrustful of the human dominated police force and were tight lipped about any details on the victims. Sam suggested to Charlie that she should take a walk and see if that would cause them to be more forthcoming. Dean remained by his side.

“Look, do you know if the victims were dabbling in some magic that they shouldn’t have been?” He asked, wanting to get straight the point.

“Why should we say anything to you? You norms are all the same!” The older woman, Brunhilde, huffed. “Norm” was a slur used by nonhumans to refer to ordinary humans. Sam let out a sigh and channeled his magic so that a flame came out of his index finger.

“Not quite so ordinary.” Sam blew out the flame with a breath. Dean tilted his head up towards him.

“Oh! What are you working with the Norms for? They got you on a leash?” There were no apologies for her assumption before boldly insinuating that the police had something on him to force him to work for them. Granted, Sam did not have a lot of options when they recruited him but he could have refused if he had wanted.

“That is none of your concern. Are you going to answer my question or not?” Sam shifted the conversation back on topic, letting his tone reflect his growing irritation with the older woman. It was counterproductive to withhold information that could solve her comrade’s murder simply because she refused to have any faith in humans.

“Why, you should show some respect to your elders!” The woman gasped dramatically, sounding offended. Sam clenched his hands into small fasts.

“Do you want to end up like the victims. If so, keep it up.” Dean nudged his hand with his nose.

“Rude one, aren’t you? You must be a filthy Norm lover,” Brunhilde huffed and turned up her nose at him. Very well, it seemed that there was no getting through to her. She stomped away without another word. Perhaps one of the other neighbors would be more cooperative. Dean gave a low whine, which in wolf speak for him conveyed concern.

“I’m okay, I have dealt with much worse.” Sam was accustomed to this kind of treatment. He had been bullied for being a puny nerd in middle school until puberty had kicked in and made him twice the size of his bullies. And then he had faced discrimination when he unwittingly became outed as a witch in college. News had traveled fast at Stanford. The professors that once looked upon him favorably and offered him letters of recommendation started to ignore him and classmates refused to work with him on group assignments. Their attitudes had all changed towards him even though nothing about Sam had changed. He was still the same Sam. They just knew the truth of what he was, “And you have dealt with just as much and worse. Witches get less hate than werewolves.”

For some reason magical humans were viewed a little more favorably than supernatural beings in general. Perhaps it was because they were still human at the core despite their abilities. Sam then approached one of the younger witches in the coven after Charlie rejoined him. Her name was Estelle and she came from a long line of witches. There was not always a precise rhyme or reason when it came to who got the gift.

For the most part, it was inherited, though sometimes it might skip a generation or a few. Magic tended to favor women over men. From doing some research into his own family tree, Sam had discovered that he had gotten his gift from his mother’s side of the family. Mary Winchester had passed away when he was just an infant. Dean had told him about their mother, how he had seen her perform some small bouts of magic and not much more than that.

The textbook term for a person like that was a Spark.The less frequent means of acquiring magic was by making a deal with a demon. No deal was without its price and the cost of doing business with a demon was your soul. There was no definitive sources on what happened to the soul once it was claimed, whether it was doomed to eternal damnation in the fiery pits of hell or to be made to do the Devil’s bidding.

“I only really knew Maggie since we were close in age. She had mentioned her mother somehow getting ahold of an old artefact but she never went into any specific detail.” Estelle informed them. That artefact had to be none other than the Booked of the Damned, though Sam did not want to tell her that.

“Do you know how Ms. Denisson got ahold of that artefact? Or why she wanted it?” Charlie asked. Unlike Brunhilde, Estelle was not hostile towards ordinary humans.

“No clue why,” the witch answered, “but I think a witch named Rowena might have been involved.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Sam asked.

“She’s a master at the craft and the word on the street is that she is the one to go to if you want to track down rare hard to find items. I would be wary though, she dabbles into some pretty dark magic.”

“Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please do not hesitate to contact us.” Charlie handed over one of her business cards before the three of them decided to leave the Coven of Ravenmore.

“So, what do you say that we track down this Rowena?” Charlie suggested.

“No offense, but I might be able to get leads on her on my own better. How about I rendezvous with you once I have found a lead?” Witches were a paranoid bunch and would not just hand over the location of one of their own unless it was to a fellow witch.

“Ah, yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Make sure to stock up on some holy water. We’re going to need it if w come face to face with this demon.”

“Umm, Sam, you know that they don’t stock stuff like that in the armory.” More like silver bullets, rock salt, and wooden stakes.

“Go to a church and have a priest bless some water. That will suffice.”

---

There was no better place to get intel than from Full Moon Alley, a sort of haven for supernatural beings akin to Chinatowns for Chinese immigrants. Dean could have easily shifted back into his human form and not worry about standing out but he remained as a wolf, without the K-9 vest. No one spared him a second glance. There were specialty stores, such as one selling potions ingredients and tomes on witchcraft, but what dominated the street was the bars. The popular one for witches was called, “The Witching Hour”. Sam thought that it was a cheesy name.

No one spared him a glance when he walked inside, even though it was packed with women. The fact that he was a male witch made him very appealing to his female counterparts but on principle Sam did not date witches. He heard his brother growl anytime a woman tried to check him out.

“Look, you don’t need to protect my honor or anything. They’re not my type.” Dean paused and looked up to him in confusion. Sam cursed under his breath because he had never mentioned his sexuality to his brother before.

“Ah, I didn’t mean….Well, sometimes I date guys but I’m bisexual. I don’t date witches though.” His brother looked at him as if he wanted to the know the reason behind it but this was not the time or the place to go into the story. All it boiled down to was one bad experience by the name of Ruby. Her sweet nature turned out to be an act to manipulate him into doing types of magic that he purposely avoided and he could only watch as her obsession with dark magic consumed her.

She was shot through the head by hunters when she decided to kidnap a bunch of kids and sacrificed them for some sick ritual. Magic always had a price and the greater the reward, the greater the price. And only the depraved thought it was acceptable to kill people as payment.

Working his charm on the ladies around the bar revealed to him that this Rowena character was the head of a new coven, the Mega Coven, complete with an unoriginal name. She sought only the best to join her flock and scouted from recruits at other covens, stealing their finest.

And luckily for Sam, a few of the local covens were hosting a competition, which no doubt would draw out the best of their lot. He headed back to his apartment and gave Charlie a call to let her know what he had found out.

“Our best bet is to attend and find Rowena there.” The event did not start until tomorrow so there was not much they could do now but rest.

“Just to let you know, the department shut the case and they don’t want to pursue the matter any more since they still think it’s a hate crime.” Charlie informed him. Of course, why should the case matter when the victims were just a bunch of witches? But neither Charlie or Sam were content to end it just then. There was a demon on the loose that needed to be stopped.

“Figures.” Sam scoffed.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Charlie apologized.

“It’s not your fault.” After Sam ended the phone call, he decided to unwind. Dean had went to do whatever, leaving him alone. He stripped down to a tank top and boxers and boiled himself some water to make tea. He lounged on his bed and perused carefully through the pages of the Book of the Damned.

It was undecipherable, written in a text that Sam could not understand. It was not Latin or any other old languages that he recognized. He shut the book and let out a sigh. What could have these witches possibly wanted? And more importantly, how were they able to decipher it?

He had dozed off until he had felt an unsettling feeling pull in his gut as if he was being watched. His eyes shot open and he glanced around his room frantically. Sam did not see anything suspicious but he nearly jumped out of his bed when he heard a low chuckle.

“Who are you!? Show yourself!” Sam demanded, conjuring a flame in the palm of his hand. A handsome man with short blond hair materialized in front of him but he was no mortal as a set of horns protruded from his forehead and his icy blue eyes shined with magic. His chest was bare with some pieces of jewelry around his wrists and he wore a loose fitting pair of white pants.

A demon. Was this the one responsible for the murders? Sam dispelled the flame that he was holding, doubting that aggravating a being much more powerful than him would work to his favor.

“You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you?” The demon grinned before sidling up to him. He ran a finger down his chest over the fabric of his tank top. Sam was frozen in place as he did not know what to do. He doubted that he could take this demon on his own and unprepared as he was.

“What do you want?” Sam asked, trying not to flinch as the demon licked a stripe down his cheek. What the everloving fuck? He had heard stories but did demons really consume human flesh? Was he going to be this demon’s dinner?

“Aren’t you precious, darlin’?” They were interrupted, however, by the door to Sam’s bedroom bursting open and a furry blur launching itself at the demon. Dean.

“Dean, no!” Sam cried out, not wanting his brother to get killed. A loud smack and his brother was sent flying towards the wall, letting out a small whimper at the impact.

“I will see you around, Sammy.” The demon gave him one last look before he smirked and disappeared, leaving only a smell of sulfur behind. Sam bent himself over Dean and pressed against his fur in an attempt to speed up Dean’s natural super healing capabilities. Dean coughed as he shifted unconsciously back into a human.

“What the fuck!?” He exclaimed.

“I think that was the demon we are after.”

“How did he find us?” Dean groaned as he stood up and removed his hand from his side. Sam watched as the bruises started to fade.

“He might have been watching us this entire time.” Sam suggested.

“Fuck, do you have any idea what he wanted with you? Because I find it strange that he waited until you were completely alone. And he didn’t come after me or Charlie.”

“No clue, your guess is as good as mine,” Sam shrugged. While the action itself was dismissive, he was truthfully unnerved by the encounter. He needed to look into protection wards like yesterday.

---

“So, this competition, is it anything like the Triwizard Tournament?” Charlie asked him when she picked him up in a regular car as a police cruiser would attract too much attention.

“Harry Potter is just fiction.” Sam snorted. He decided to not say anything to his partner about his encounter with the demon but Dean had insisted on tagging along.

“Well, good, we don’t have to worry about a noseless Dark Lord then,” she joked, “So, how am I going to blend into the crowd? Aren’t they going to notice that I’m a Muggle?”

“Not all witches can sense magic in others but to be safe, I bought this bracelet.” He handed the gold chain with sapphire stones to Charlie.

“Does this make me a wizard?” She laughed.

“Sorry, no Hogwarts letter for you. It’s imbued with protective magic that encases your whole body in a invisible shield of magic. If you’re surrounded in magic, no one is going to think twice about it.”

“Neato!” Charlie put the bracelet around her right wrist. What Sam had not told her was that he had also added some extra protections to guard her against the demon. The competition was being hosted inside the auditorium on Full Moon Alley, neutral ground for the covens. It was not like they could get permission to use a high school.

They settled themselves in the back row of seats, the best place to observe everyone else inside the auditorium. Charlie asked him enthusiastically, “Hey, so did you do this kind of stuff when you were younger?”

“No,” Sam shook his head, “I tried to keep my gift to myself as to not draw attention to myself.”

His father had enrolled him in an ordinary K-12 school and who knows what the administration would have done if they found out that he was a witch. Supernatural and magical beings were typically segregated into special schools.

The competition spanned over the course for two hours, Dean constantly fidgeting in the seat beside him but by the end, a winner was declared. They shuffled out of their seats and made their way to watch who interacted with the victorious witch. Charlie stepped aside when her cell phone rang.

“We got ourselves another case, human vics this time,” Charlie informed him grimly when she rejoined him. Now that they were given a case, they would have to turn their attention on it or else stir up suspicion from their bosses. He sighed, even though they were so close, Rowena would have to wait.

The Wheelhouse bar was located on a river and boasted an excellent view on the riverfront. And one time the inner decor was just as gorgeous but what awaited Sam was a massacre, blood and guts splattered everywhere. Police were already on the scene when they showed up.

“Oh my God, is that intestines hanging from the ceiling fan!?” Charlie turned pale and nearly gagged as she looked up, “You know, I have seen a lot of screwed up stuff but this takes the cake.”

“Are there any witnesses?” Sam asked the nearby cop, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and covering his mouth with it.

“Just one. Some Devil worshipping freak.” The officer led him over to a woman seated on the balcony of the bar in handcuffs.

“Our Lord walks among us! He has delivered His wrath upon those that have refused His will!” She spoke hysterically, not sounding even a little bit sane. There was little doubt in his mind that the demon from before was responsible for this. It was just as gruesome as the scene with the witches.

“What does he look like?” Sam asked calmly, seeking confirmation of his suspicions. Unfortunately, she had just garbled out some more nonsense and did not actually answer his question. The woman started to cackle madly and Sam watched in horror as her eyes turned black. Dean started to snarl.

“ Your interest flatters me .” The voice that spoke from the woman was deep and masculine, definitely not belonging to her. The cop standing beside him recoiled and took off running, screaming his head off but Sam remained firm.

“Let this woman go.” Sam demanded.

“ Why do you protect these humans that are so unworthy? They reek of sin yet they abhor the supernatural and the unnatural. What hypocrites! Who are they to cast judgment? ”

“Is this is what these killings about? Delivering justice? What about those witches that you killed?” The commotion had drawn Charlie out onto the balcony and Sam wanted to tell her to turn back.

“ They sought to control me. Turn me into a puppet to do their bidding. I will not be chained or bound. ” The demon hissed. Charlie opened the top of a flask and flicked the contents at the possessed woman, which caused her to scream. Holy water.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas...” Sam started reciting the exorcism spell.

“ You might be able to save this woman but you cannot stop me . I know where you live, Sam Winchester .” Were the last words out of the demon before he was completely expelled as Sam finished the spell, relinquishing his hold over the woman. The woman slumped backwards into the chair, the black from her eyes faded before she closed them, knocked unconscious. Sam ran towards her and felt her pulse. Thankfully she was still alive.

“Holy shit. I so do not get paid enough to deal with this kind of shit.” Charlie finally remarked. The words that the demon spoke before being exorcised out of the woman was not just a threat but a promise. Dean was panicked and wanted to bring in an expert to ward their apartment extensively. While that might deter the demon from going after him there, as soon as he left the safety of the wards, he would be vulnerable once more.

There were cases to solve and Sam was not going to cower behind a web of protection spells. He was not going to stop living his life just because there was a demon out there with an unusual interest in him.

Dean had taken being a protective older brother to new extremes. Sam could hardly take a dump without his brother accompanying him. No amount of words would sway Dean’s mind from easing up.

The demon proven to be determined and had found a way to corner Sam. Through patience. Dean had to go do werewolf business with Garth, something too important to get out of, leaving Sam alone. He was walking towards Uncle Chen’s to get some Chinese food for dinner when the demon approached him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the demon smugly commented.

“More like you been stalking me.” Sam said sarcastically.

“Sam, Sam, what am I going to do with you?” The demon grabbed him by the throat and dragged him into the nearby alley, shoving him against the cement wall. The grip around his throat tightened, causing him to choke.

“Screw you.” Sam croaked out, which seemed to amuse the demon rather than insult as he let out a chuckle.

“You know, you and I could make a great team. You have that enormous pool of magic that you haven’t even tapped into yet. It’s a pity that it has gone to such waste.”

“And why would I help you when all you do is hurt people?” He spat.

“I’m asking you nicely. I could force you to bend to my will.” The demon leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “So, what is it going to be?”

---

There was a large snap that echoed through the barren corridors formed between the buildings as he stepped over the back of one of the numerous bodies, devoid of any life, lining the streets of Detroit. A river of blood would be more appropriate.

He did not waver as he walked forward, trampling over the deceased, as he followed after his master, the one who held the leash to his metaphorical collar.

The man that was once known as Sam was no more, only a hollow shell of him remained, unwaveringly obedient. He had not even flinched when the light faded out of those that he cared about, their corpses being casually discarded onto the floor when the demon strangled the life out of them.

Not even Dean’s final cries could reach him.