A New Life (Dean Winchester X Demon Reader)

Meeting the Winchesters

It was a normal day for you, if you could describe anything as normal in a Demon's life. Each day was spent the same, waiting to be summoned, giving that someone what they asked for, then repeating the process all over again. Somedays, you added collecting a soul to the process, but usually it was the same thing over and over. Sure, you had been given the chance to leave this monotonous life behind, but you didn't want that. Sure, Crowley would love to have you by his side, but you liked where you were. Being a crossroads Demon was the tamest job you could have. You didn't have to deal with torturing souls, listening to them scream each and every day. No matter how long you've been a Demon, you still couldn't handle the thought of torturing all those souls, or killing for the fun of it.

Instead, you stayed quiet and they let you live your life in as peaceful a situation as possible. Being a favorite of Crowley's, you were allowed to stay top side, and you had made a nice life for your self. That is, until someone ruined it all for you.

You were spending a quiet morning, sitting in the living room of your vintage house, reading a book from one of your favorite authors, when you felt the familiar tug and pull of being summoned. Saving your place in the book, you stood, letting yourself be transported to the place of calling. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face the summoner, wondering what was so important that they wanted to trade their soil for it.

"Yes?" You asked, your voice not hiding the boredom you felt. Glancing up through your red haze, you took stock of the person standing next to you. He was an older man, you could tell by the salt and pepper that ran through his hair and beard. He had weathered lines throughout his face, showing he was just as worn as the faded ball cap on his head.

"I want to make a deal." He said, his voice raspy from years of smoking. 

"I figured that out already when you summoned me," your sarcasm showing through. You were impatient, wanting to get back to your book.  He strode closer, a slight tilt to his thin lips showing that he thought he had the upper hand.

You stood your ground, watching as he moved closer and closer, finally stopping when his nose was almost touching yours. Has this man never heard of personal space, you asked yourself, but stayed in place, not wanting to show any weakness.

"What do you desire?" You asked, wanting to get away from this man who gave you the creeps.

"You" he said, before shoving a bag over your head. Thrashing about, you tried to transport away, but the man just laughed, punching you in the stomach. "That's not going to work honey. You see, I drew a devils trap on the bag. You're mine now."

Your stomach dropped at the thought that you had been captured. You had always been so careful, so prepared, but you had been so bored today, that you messed up, and now it might just cost you your life. If you could call living as a demon, life.

Struggling as much as you could, trying to get away, but the devils trap weakened your power and strength, and the man was easily able to drag you along. A car door opened, before you were roughly pushed inside, your head slamming against the door frame. He shut the door behind you, and before you could even try to escape, the car started moving, tires squealing as you left the crossroads behind.

Time passed, and the car kept moving, and you quickly lost track of the turns it had made. Soon pavement turned to gravel, and gravel turned to dirt, before the car finally came to a screeching stop. Roughly pulled from the car, a hand tightly grasped around your forearm.

You felt the cold metal belonging to the barrel of a gun pressed against your neck, and you laughed. "You know a gun won't harm me, right?"

"It might not kill you, but these are special shells, filled with holy water. Might not kill ya, but will hurt like hell."