Maddison Winchester: Journal 3 {Supernatural}

15 Time Is on My Side: Part 1

April 10th - April 12th, 2008

We were getting desperate at this point. We started questioning any demon we could get our hands on about breaking Dean's deal.

Our most recent victim was currently tied to a chair and was getting doused with holy water. He screamed out in agony as it splashed on him and caused his skin to smoke.

"You ready to talk?" Dean asked.

The demon shook his head, looking at Dean with desperation in his eyes. "I don't know. I don't know anything!"

"Oh, you hear that? He doesn't know anything," Dean taunted.

Sam smirked. "Yeah, I heard."

"I'm telling you the truth," the demon said.

"Oh, you are? My god, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you." Dean grabbed the demon's face and forced holy water down his throat.

The demon screamed and choked on the holy water as it smoked out of his mouth.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time... who holds my contract?!" Dean shouted.

The demon stayed quiet, and his head just hung there until he picked it up, smiling at us with black eyes. "Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over."

Dean leaned down into the demon's face. "I want a name. Or else—"

"Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends?" the demon asked. "Please. Brother, that's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."

Dean stared at the demon and then nodded back to Sam, who started reciting an exorcism. He glared at the demon. "How does that feel? Does that feel good?"

"Go ahead. Send me back to Hell... 'cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you... with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester." The demon smiled.

Sam stopped. "Should I?"

"Send him someplace he can't hurt anyone else," Dean demanded.

Sam nodded and continued reading. The demon screamed out, and the smoke escaped his body.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dean had brought the body outside to bury it while Sam paced around in the cabin, on the phone with someone. "You ran the prints twice? Are you sure?" (...) "Okay." (...) "Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error." (...) He laughed. "Don't I know it." (...) "Okay. Thanks." (...) "Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant." He hung up as Dean walked into the cabin with dirt on his hands and jacket. "Bury the body?" he asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks." He grabbed a beer off of the table and sat down on the couch. "What was the phone call about?"

"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?" Sam asked.

"'Stripper suffocates dude with thighs'?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "The other thing."

Dean nodded. "Right, the guy that walks into the ER and kneels over, dead. His stomach ripped out?"

"His liver, actually. Anyways, I just found out something pretty damn interesting," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The dead body was covered in bloody fingerprints, not the victim's," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Okay, great. My man Dave Caruso will be stoked to hear it."