The Trickster's Demon (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Prologue

I woke up, alone and scared.  My bare arms were pressed against something cold, and when I looked down I saw that I was covered in my dark jeans my think gray tanktop.  I shivered, my long brown hair falling around my face and spilling over my shoulders.  A sharp pain went through my skull and I groaned.  I looked around to see that I was in a dark cell chained to a wall.  My wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw and my throat felt like it would close up any second.  My eye twitched, a nervous tick I got a few years ago after the Winchester boys had decided to take me in.  I wondered where they were now.  Surely they would've gotten me out of this by now, right?  I wouldn't know.  I didn't even know how long I've been here, but it must've been at least a few days due to the state of my dirt-caked body and greasy hair.

I gasped as a harsh light flooded into the cell, leaving me blind for a few seconds.  After my eyes grew accustomed to the cold light, I looked up, my eyes still narrowed at the short figure in front of me.  His smirk made me nervous as I slowly registered who was in front of me.

"Hello , dear." his thick British accent rang through the cell, his voice reverberating against my head, sending more waves of pain through it.

I groaned a little and tried to stand up, only to fall back down to the ground with a dull thud.  My legs felt like jello and I was in no state to do anything but accept my fate.  My eye twitched again.  This wasn't good.  It usually only twitched twice an hour when I was in a dangerous situation.  At this rate, I knew I was bound to have a panic attack soon.  My grey eyes flitted around the cell, looking for any kind of weapon.  There was none.

"Why the long face, love?" he walked over to me, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls and knelt in front of me.  His smirk stayed put as he gently lifted my chin with his left hand, using the right to stroke my hair.  I shuddered at the touch. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." he jerked his head back at a slightly familiar demon.  I knew I had encountered him before, but I couldn't remember when or where. "He is."

The strange demon grinned a little and stepped forward, yanking me up by my hair, pulling out several strands.  I cried out in pain, which my throat didn't like.  He disconnected the chains from the wall and led me out of my cell and down several long corridors, yanking the chains harshly whenever I failed to keep up with his long strides.

After several painful minutes, I was finally led into a large room with a sort of operating table in the middle of it.  I gulped and started shaking.  I had never actually been tortured before, but I knew from helping Sam get Castiel out of trouble it was excruciating.  Ever since Sam, Dean, and Cas had helped me out of a tight spot almost four years ago now, I always thought of Cas as the angel that nobody could hurt.  That hunt had proven me wrong.  After that I spent about three weeks doing whatever Cas asked me too, hoping to make up for something that wasn't even my fault.

I was dragged out of my mind as the strange demon lifted me up like a sack of potatoes and strapped me onto the table chair, thing.  I was breathing heavily and struggling against the bonds.

I shut my eyes tight and whimpered when I felt breath on my ear. "You're going to tell us everything about the Winchesters and their pet angel." Crowley's voice sent shivers down my spine.  Not the good kind of shivers.  They were the ones that made you want to give up on life and drown yourself in alcohol or numb your body with drugs or pain.  They were the ones that revealed all of your insecurities.

"Go to Hell, Crowley!" she knew the words were stupid considering they were IN Hell, but it still gave her a little bit of comfort saying them.

He just chuckled and left the room, leaving me to the mercy of this strangely-familiar demon.  And I knew he wouldn't give me an ounce of it.

The only things that could be heard for quite a while were the screams that came from my already sore throat.  They ripped through Hell and I knew it gave Crowley satisfaction, hearing me plead and beg for the pain to stop.

Over the course of several hours, Crowley stopped by three or four times.  He only came by to see if I had given any information.  He soon left, sulking, upon hearing the news that I hadn't spilled anything.  I whimpered in pain as a strangled look came across the demon's face.  I didn't really have time to register much of anything before I passed out, pain making me succumb to the blackness.

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Ps; Holy carp 883 words!