Post by Ryder James Winchester on Aug 26, 2011 12:30:34 GMT -5
Ryder didn’t wake up as much as he suddenly became aware of the flesh being peeled from the right side of his body. The pain was beyond anything he’d ever felt before, and a fierce scream was torn from his lips a moment before he wrenched his grey-blue eyes open to find the figure of a lithe, blonde haired, black-eyed demon female doing the skinning.
The young Winchester writhed violently to escape the torture, but it was no use. His arms and legs were spread eagle and bound; his body naked and completely exposed to the fiend’s malicious brand of entertainment.
Tilting his face upwards, he let out another agonized howl. Even the salty tears that escaped from the corners of his eyes burned as they slid down his flushed cheeks.
This was hell. Literally.
The hunter went slack as the demon finished her torment, having only peeled a small portion of skin away to reveal a patch of the rib bones beneath. Of course they would only skin him a little at a time, for what fun would it be to get it all done in one fell swoop?
The demon laughed maniacally at the human’s ragged breath and the way his body convulsed.
The scene reminded her of her childhood days; of the little animals she had afflicted until they twitched themselves to death. Obviously the Winchester would not die here. That was the absolute magnificence of being a torturer in the Pit. They never died down here. Jerked, cried, bled…but they never died.
When all of the shudders were wrung out of Ryder his body finally stilled, and she trailed a cold fingertip across his tear-stained cheek and down his tawny chest. His breath was heaving but he did not look at her; only winced as the digit continued a path down his rippled stomach to the coarse hair just above his manhood.
The middle Winchester expected no less from the underling. Pain, mortification, emptiness; it was her job to beget the most horrible human emotions feasible.
The last months of his life; the last hours, Ryder had tried to prepare him self for what was to come. To ready his mind. To steady his will.
But there was no preparing for this. Not this.
During the persecution and the unwanted sensual fondling, the young man found a serene place in his mind where he could hide for a moment. The image of Simi’s virtuous face transported him elsewhere; to a beach with a cool breeze and the comforting feel of sand beneath the souls of his feet.
Ryder could imagine the warmth of her embrace; the sweet taste of her kiss. In the distance he saw the forms of his family drawing closer and could even hear the precious giggling of his little niece as her chubby hands reached out for him. Chevrolet’s grin lit their path.
Unbidden, the whisper of a smile drifted across his visage. The peaceful expression incensed the devil woman, and immediately she went to tell her superior of the hunter’s unbreakable spirit.
Ryder was unaware of the departure of the female, and as well, the arrival of one higher in rank than she.
The male approached the middle Winchester slowly so not to disturb his reverie, for he had the power to look into the humans mind; stealing from those blissful memories the knowledge of what would hurt him the most.
When Ryder realized he was being watched his stormy orbs came open in slow motion, meeting the pale gaze of a towering man. The pale-eyed demon wore a sardonic smile; the expression wringing a sudden breath-stealing fear out of the hunter. As if the female demon hadn’t even touched on that sentiment within him.
“Well…if it isn’t Ryder Winchester in the flesh.” The white-eyed demon said in a sycophantic tone, his stare drifting down over the young man’s bleeding body. “And how painful that flesh must be for you...”
He extended a hand to the exposed area in Ryder’s side and pushed his fingers through the sinew and bone, wrenching a satisfying cry from the man.
Ryder felt as if the demon was thrusting his fingers through the muscle and would soon find the thunderously beating organ which the rib cage was meant to protect.
He writhed violently again.
No! That organ belonged to his wife; his family! Satan himself couldn’t steal it from him!
An oily chortle echoed up out of the demon, and the sound was like a thousand lost souls pleading for a freedom which would never come.
He withdrew his hand from Ryder’s wound and plucked a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, absently wiping off the blood and tissue that soiled the insipid appendage.
“Ah, brave Winchester.” The demon said and clicked his tongue. “Your lot is such a strong specimen of your species. If it weren’t for all those driveling sentiments you cling to you’d be the best of your kind. The best of our kind…which is what I mean to propose.”
Ryder blinked, not understanding. The demon just smiled wider, and within his white stare, a scene played out like a fucked-up home video.
Young Ben and Chey Winchester played while Dean and Lisa watched; wrapped in one another’s arms.
Simi as a pig-tailed youth joined the game of tag and Lexi appeared at his parents’ side; her grin peace and light, as it always had been.
Within the white-eyed demon’s motion picture gaze Ry watched as his siblings and Simi aged; Ben joined by Makayla Rhys-Damara, Chevrolet clinging to her little bean and Simi round with his own babies.
The scene brought another wave of yielding tears to his eyes.
“That’s right… I know of them. All of them.” The demon spoke, never loosing his smile as the picture changed from harmonic images to a panorama of savagery. Fire arose from the ground to lick at his family like some sort of wicked pet; the demon that stood before him holding the reigns of his blazing familiar as it begun to consume his loved ones.
The movie did not end there. From within the flames sprung miniature creatures made of sin; their tiny clawed hands grasping at each family member; ripping at their flesh as they chewed at their limbs with mouthfuls of tiny, jagged teeth. All while a blaze ate away at their bodies.
Ryder clenched his eyes shut. He could watch no more. It wasn’t just a tactic of torture for the white-eyed evil that stood before him. It was a promise.
“Give up. Surrender to us and your eternal pain can end. Give us what we ask of you and you will be set free. Not unleashed into the world as a broken man…but something better…something more powerful than you can imagine.”
Ryder’s head shook of its own accord. His mouth gaped open to negate the devil but the sound that came from him was merely an indignant moan.
The demon tensed and frowned, but for only for an ephemeral moment. He blinked and his eyes transformed from the horrid white to a normal, almost sympathetic chocolate brown.
“Ryder, we aren’t asking for much.” He told the young man in a patient, compassionate voice. “Just your family and your servitude.”
Ry found his voice once again. “Fuck. You.”
The white-eyed demon clicked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.
“That’s a shame.” He said sadly, and suddenly, a gleaming blade appeared within his palm.
“You can’t save them. Eventually we will collect them…one by one. We will hurt them. All I am asking is that you join us willingly. Beelzebub saw within your uncle what I see in you. A darkness that would make you more commanding as a demon than you ever could be as a pitiful human…”
He slid the knife as easily into Ryder’s gut as a hot knife through butter. The young man wailed in misery.
“Your suffering will end and your family would be spared the torture you have seen…if only you concede to me.”
The dagger eased through Ryder’s stomach to his lower belly and his intestines poured out of the wound. He coughed, spitting up and choking on blood.
“If you do not surrender, your pain will last for infinity and you will see your family perish nonetheless.”
The demon bent to grasp a length of the intestine, tugging it out slowly, inch by inch.
He brought the guts up to wrap around Ryder’s neck and the young man could not breath as it was tightened, could see nothing but blackness though his awareness remained.
He could never betray his family. He would never.
Letting his head fall back against his neck his mouth yawned open and another heartrending yell escaped. “God help me…”
The young Winchester writhed violently to escape the torture, but it was no use. His arms and legs were spread eagle and bound; his body naked and completely exposed to the fiend’s malicious brand of entertainment.
Tilting his face upwards, he let out another agonized howl. Even the salty tears that escaped from the corners of his eyes burned as they slid down his flushed cheeks.
This was hell. Literally.
The hunter went slack as the demon finished her torment, having only peeled a small portion of skin away to reveal a patch of the rib bones beneath. Of course they would only skin him a little at a time, for what fun would it be to get it all done in one fell swoop?
The demon laughed maniacally at the human’s ragged breath and the way his body convulsed.
The scene reminded her of her childhood days; of the little animals she had afflicted until they twitched themselves to death. Obviously the Winchester would not die here. That was the absolute magnificence of being a torturer in the Pit. They never died down here. Jerked, cried, bled…but they never died.
When all of the shudders were wrung out of Ryder his body finally stilled, and she trailed a cold fingertip across his tear-stained cheek and down his tawny chest. His breath was heaving but he did not look at her; only winced as the digit continued a path down his rippled stomach to the coarse hair just above his manhood.
The middle Winchester expected no less from the underling. Pain, mortification, emptiness; it was her job to beget the most horrible human emotions feasible.
The last months of his life; the last hours, Ryder had tried to prepare him self for what was to come. To ready his mind. To steady his will.
But there was no preparing for this. Not this.
During the persecution and the unwanted sensual fondling, the young man found a serene place in his mind where he could hide for a moment. The image of Simi’s virtuous face transported him elsewhere; to a beach with a cool breeze and the comforting feel of sand beneath the souls of his feet.
Ryder could imagine the warmth of her embrace; the sweet taste of her kiss. In the distance he saw the forms of his family drawing closer and could even hear the precious giggling of his little niece as her chubby hands reached out for him. Chevrolet’s grin lit their path.
Unbidden, the whisper of a smile drifted across his visage. The peaceful expression incensed the devil woman, and immediately she went to tell her superior of the hunter’s unbreakable spirit.
Ryder was unaware of the departure of the female, and as well, the arrival of one higher in rank than she.
The male approached the middle Winchester slowly so not to disturb his reverie, for he had the power to look into the humans mind; stealing from those blissful memories the knowledge of what would hurt him the most.
When Ryder realized he was being watched his stormy orbs came open in slow motion, meeting the pale gaze of a towering man. The pale-eyed demon wore a sardonic smile; the expression wringing a sudden breath-stealing fear out of the hunter. As if the female demon hadn’t even touched on that sentiment within him.
“Well…if it isn’t Ryder Winchester in the flesh.” The white-eyed demon said in a sycophantic tone, his stare drifting down over the young man’s bleeding body. “And how painful that flesh must be for you...”
He extended a hand to the exposed area in Ryder’s side and pushed his fingers through the sinew and bone, wrenching a satisfying cry from the man.
Ryder felt as if the demon was thrusting his fingers through the muscle and would soon find the thunderously beating organ which the rib cage was meant to protect.
He writhed violently again.
No! That organ belonged to his wife; his family! Satan himself couldn’t steal it from him!
An oily chortle echoed up out of the demon, and the sound was like a thousand lost souls pleading for a freedom which would never come.
He withdrew his hand from Ryder’s wound and plucked a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, absently wiping off the blood and tissue that soiled the insipid appendage.
“Ah, brave Winchester.” The demon said and clicked his tongue. “Your lot is such a strong specimen of your species. If it weren’t for all those driveling sentiments you cling to you’d be the best of your kind. The best of our kind…which is what I mean to propose.”
Ryder blinked, not understanding. The demon just smiled wider, and within his white stare, a scene played out like a fucked-up home video.
Young Ben and Chey Winchester played while Dean and Lisa watched; wrapped in one another’s arms.
Simi as a pig-tailed youth joined the game of tag and Lexi appeared at his parents’ side; her grin peace and light, as it always had been.
Within the white-eyed demon’s motion picture gaze Ry watched as his siblings and Simi aged; Ben joined by Makayla Rhys-Damara, Chevrolet clinging to her little bean and Simi round with his own babies.
The scene brought another wave of yielding tears to his eyes.
“That’s right… I know of them. All of them.” The demon spoke, never loosing his smile as the picture changed from harmonic images to a panorama of savagery. Fire arose from the ground to lick at his family like some sort of wicked pet; the demon that stood before him holding the reigns of his blazing familiar as it begun to consume his loved ones.
The movie did not end there. From within the flames sprung miniature creatures made of sin; their tiny clawed hands grasping at each family member; ripping at their flesh as they chewed at their limbs with mouthfuls of tiny, jagged teeth. All while a blaze ate away at their bodies.
Ryder clenched his eyes shut. He could watch no more. It wasn’t just a tactic of torture for the white-eyed evil that stood before him. It was a promise.
“Give up. Surrender to us and your eternal pain can end. Give us what we ask of you and you will be set free. Not unleashed into the world as a broken man…but something better…something more powerful than you can imagine.”
Ryder’s head shook of its own accord. His mouth gaped open to negate the devil but the sound that came from him was merely an indignant moan.
The demon tensed and frowned, but for only for an ephemeral moment. He blinked and his eyes transformed from the horrid white to a normal, almost sympathetic chocolate brown.
“Ryder, we aren’t asking for much.” He told the young man in a patient, compassionate voice. “Just your family and your servitude.”
Ry found his voice once again. “Fuck. You.”
The white-eyed demon clicked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.
“That’s a shame.” He said sadly, and suddenly, a gleaming blade appeared within his palm.
“You can’t save them. Eventually we will collect them…one by one. We will hurt them. All I am asking is that you join us willingly. Beelzebub saw within your uncle what I see in you. A darkness that would make you more commanding as a demon than you ever could be as a pitiful human…”
He slid the knife as easily into Ryder’s gut as a hot knife through butter. The young man wailed in misery.
“Your suffering will end and your family would be spared the torture you have seen…if only you concede to me.”
The dagger eased through Ryder’s stomach to his lower belly and his intestines poured out of the wound. He coughed, spitting up and choking on blood.
“If you do not surrender, your pain will last for infinity and you will see your family perish nonetheless.”
The demon bent to grasp a length of the intestine, tugging it out slowly, inch by inch.
He brought the guts up to wrap around Ryder’s neck and the young man could not breath as it was tightened, could see nothing but blackness though his awareness remained.
He could never betray his family. He would never.
Letting his head fall back against his neck his mouth yawned open and another heartrending yell escaped. “God help me…”
