ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ: ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴꜱ 1-5
𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳 𝑬𝒀𝑬𝑺
𝗔 𝗩𝗮𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀
i do not own Supernatural, any of the characters or their storylines. i only own my own characters and the storyline i made up for them. all rights go to Eric...
𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 courses through my skull, causing me to instinctively reach for support, desperate to alleviate the pounding. But to my dismay, my arms remain unresponsive, trapped in an immobile state. Confusion washes over me as I struggle to comprehend the situation unfolding around me.
As my senses gradually return, a nearby presence catches my attention, triggering a flood of memories from before I found myself in this disorienting predicament. With a groan, I open my eyes, only to be met with the unsettling sight of someone who is unmistakably not Dean, their face twisted into a sinister grin. Ropes constrict around my stomach, further highlighting my helplessness.
Aware of my awakening, the shapeshifter locks eyes with me in a chilling silence. Without warning, their hand swiftly rises and delivers a stinging slap across my face, forcing a grunt of pain to escape my lips. I can taste the bitterness of saliva as it is expelled onto the ground beside me, a reflexive response to the assault. My gaze remains fixed on the shapeshifter, who now wears a devilish grin.
"Well, good morning to you too," I groan, my voice laced with discomfort. The shapeshifter chuckles and sets the rope aside, not too far from where Sam sits, also bound and seemingly unconscious. "Sam!" I whisper urgently, hoping to rouse him, but to no avail. I scan the surroundings, searching for any sign of Dean's presence.
"Where is Dean?"
"Dean can't answer right now, but you can leave a message," the shapeshifter taunts, mimicking Dean's voice. Irritated and unamused, I find myself unable to appreciate the uncanny resemblance. "What? It wasn't funny?" he asks, his smile fading. He turns away from me and begins to walk away.
"Where's Dean?" I demand, my tone growing harsher. The shapeshifter shakes his head, producing a ticking sound as he clicks his tongue.
He turns back to face me. "You know, Dean was always concerned about you too," he reveals. Confusion etches across my face as I observe him, his grin still intact. "Yeah, he always had his suspicions..." he trails off, approaching me. Leaning in close to my ear, his face brushes against mine. "Daddy has done some really bad things to you."
