A Supernatural Sister

Chapter 11

"I hope they do care, love. For your sake."

As you might have guessed, having a blade produced in front of you as you're being held captive does strange things to the mind and body. Stress, anxiety, hatred. I could feel it all pulsing through my veins. Right before I blacked out. That's right ladies and gentlemen - I blacked out. As I'm sure you can imagine, the adrenaline that should've have kicked in was replaced with fear. Confrontation with the King of Hell, not my ideal way to be awoken.

"Dear, dear, dear. You're not going to be any fun as a play thing if you pass out at the first sign of danger. What will you be like when things start to get real?" Crowley tuts, rising from his chair as I regain consciousness.

I try to ignore him, looking past him at the walls. No windows. A door? There has to be some way to get out of this place, there always is. A face pops into my vision and I bite down my tongue to stop the scream from escaping. Pull yourself together, Annabelle. The knife is produced again, a look of content on Crowley's face as he runs it along my arm softly, almost like a scarlet caress. And then a slight burning pain. Nothing unimaginable, just enough to make me see what he wants. Pain.

After a while it numbs and the scarlet streaks have dried on my arms. Who the hell does he think he's dealing with? If Sam and Dean ever turn up, I swear to Cas I will kill them.

Crowley gets bored rather quickly. After the first few shallow marks over my arm and the limited pain I displayed, he decided to take things a step further.He took the knife and plunged it deep in to my hand, looking intently as I bit my tongue whimpering, eyes streaming with tears. I barely make a sound, refusing to play along with his psycho games. Crowley rolls his eyes, removes the knife and wipes it clean on a napkin produced from his pocket, he walks away. Opens the door and simply walks away without another word, or even a second glance. I'm not sure what I'm thinking. Get out of here, I guess. Not how, not when, just out. Then comes the struggling, the burning pain in my hand as I attempt to squeeze it out of the metal rings securing my wrists to the wood.

My thoughts eventually become hazy, most likely due to the blood lost from the gaping hole in my hand and I blink rapidly in an attempt to keep conscious.

Where did it all go wrong? I had good grades, my mom, friends. And now, I'm here, struggling for consciousness and being hounded by the King of hell. No pun intended. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly glad I met the brothers I didn't know I had but the bullshit I've gone through to be with them and then they're torn from beside me, it makes me wonder if it was all worth it.

I don't know how long I'm sitting in that chair, but it feels like forever in a day before I hear a distant rev of a car. Slightly familiar, but then, that could just be my mind playing tricks on me, or Crowley messing with me. What a surprise that would be.

All in all, unless my super reliable brothers (are you catching the sarcasm?) decide to turn up, I am completely and utterly, irrevocably screwed. I hear the car engine closer, but still not close enough, more of a faint whir. Maybe that's just the sound of the room spinning so fast. Maybe it's my breathing, my sobbing. Maybe it's the wind. My whole is woven with maybe's and possibly's and could be's. Intertwined with lies and secrets. My life is, ultimately, a spiders web. Fragile, easily broken. Yet here I am, being strong for once and listing the things that went wrong.

How pessimistic of me.

A/N

You guys are incredibly patient people wow. So, it's 5am (uk time) and I'm wide awake, I finished this lil bit for you guys although I'm sure it's short, but I hope you all had a good Christmas!

Beth x