Sam Winchester swallowed thickly as he eased around the corner in the warehouse, tense and unhappy to be hunting vampires after dark, but sometimes there was no choice. Not if they wanted to save the victim they knew they had. He disliked it even more knowing that they'd caught this case, so soon after gaining the mark of cain back. The last thing Dean needed was to be killing something that looked and acted so human.
Leaning against the wall for a moment, gun pointed at the ground, he listened, trying to figure out exactly where the high-pitched laughter and shrieks of pleasure were coming from. While it was better to have room to fight in, it sucked that it made sound echo so badly. Glancing up at Dean as the man came around the other hall, Sam sighed softly. They had to do this, no matter how much he disliked it. Nodding towards the last hall, Sam moved towards it, knowing that the vampires had to be at the other end. And he was right. For a moment, so overwhelmed at the sickening sight at the other end, he cursed as he put the gun away, knowing they couldn't risk shooting any of them, not when they were so close to their victim. Ignoring the sick feeling at seeing another human hanging in chains, served up like a side of beef, Sam moved in to kill the vampires as they headed towards him.<|im_end|>
Dean stood there, trying to control himself. He could smell the blood, feel the sex inside. He could hear the grunts of someone fucking someone else and the terrified whimpers of the victim. The Mark of Cain made everything so sharp and clear. He could smell and hear and taste too much. The flavor of the room danced on his tongue, making him want to dive in there and join in or slaughter them all. One of the two. The Mark was even worse this time. The push was harder to resist. He looked at Sam and swallowed because he could feel the darkness pressing against him, trying to drown him. He could hear the sickness in the other room and felt himself reacting in very inappropriate ways. He really needed to kill those things before he found himself swept away. They didn't have an angel's touch, nor did they have sunlight or dead man's blood so they were going to have to decapitate them all. He gripped the machete in his hands and swung into action.
He blinked a little and looked around. He was not where he was supposed to be. The First Blade was in his hand and he was covered in blood. He had cuts all over himself but he was pretty sure none of the blood was actually his. The cuts were already scabbed over and he knew that was because of his Demon, it could regenerate fast enough that he could see himself heal. He grimaced as the Mark of Cain burned on his arm and he hissed, dropping the First Blade and clutching it, trying to ease the pain. He looked around once he'd recovered and realized he was nowhere he recognized. It was abandoned wherever he was. That was when he noticed her. The girl, the victim that the Vampires had been torturing. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. She was... perfect. Unconscious but so, so perfect. And hurt. Hurt bad.
He could, sometimes, get fuzzy images and now he could recall calling the First Blade and tearing through the vampires and turning on Sam when he ran out of victims. Turning on the Girl who had been strung up still. He remembered backhanding Sam, knocking him to the ground and trying to attack the girl and... failing? After that nothing. "Okay... first things first. Call Sam." Dean muttered, reaching into his pocket for his phone.
"Sam! God, are you okay? I think I hit you... I don't know where I am but that girl, the one the Vampires had, she's here with me and I think I... I think I hurt her Sam." Dean admitted, feeling pretty sick at the idea. She was just gorgeous... like an Angel, he sounded sappy. That was weird. Had Dean found himself a succubus or something?<|im_end|>