[SPN]: Redemption is just another ten letter word.
For spn_30 snapshots.
prompt 11 on my table.
11. I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell/ But just coming to the end of his triumph.
R, 203 words, Post season 4 and slightly blasphemous.
***
Our Father, who art in Heaven
Lucifer is risen.
Hallowed be thy name
Sam. Sammy. We gotta go.
Light. So much light. Death. So much death.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will-
Dean- he’s coming.
Be done on earth
Sam!
Doors creaking, footsteps breaking, hearts hammering. Soundtrack of staccato rhythms.
Ba-da-bing, ba-da-bing-bang-fucking-boom.
As it is in Heaven
Run.
Give us this day our daily bread
Please Sam, run.
Run, run, run, as fast as you can.
And forgive us our sins
You can’t catch me I’m the King of the Damned.
I’m so sorry Dean.
Oh God, forgive us our sins
Tyres jolting, engine screaming, road short and unending.
Please…
Christ, with bullet holes in his hands and a bleeding mouth on his side:
Ripped asunder and scattered across a thousand stillborn skies.
I believe he screamed.
One thousand, four hundred and fifty one miles from Maryland to South Dakota.
Count them.
I believe in the Father, and in the Son
You’re still my brother.
and in the broken, foul-mouthed Spirit.
Wasn’t your fault, Sammy.
So forgive us our sins
As He breaks, so shall It break.
And deliver us from evil.
It wasn’t your fault.
Yes Dean- it was.
No… it was mine.
prompt 11 on my table.
11. I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell/ But just coming to the end of his triumph.
R, 203 words, Post season 4 and slightly blasphemous.
***
Our Father, who art in Heaven
Lucifer is risen.
Hallowed be thy name
Sam. Sammy. We gotta go.
Light. So much light. Death. So much death.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will-
Dean- he’s coming.
Be done on earth
Sam!
Doors creaking, footsteps breaking, hearts hammering. Soundtrack of staccato rhythms.
Ba-da-bing, ba-da-bing-bang-fucking-boom.
As it is in Heaven
Run.
Give us this day our daily bread
Please Sam, run.
Run, run, run, as fast as you can.
And forgive us our sins
You can’t catch me I’m the King of the Damned.
I’m so sorry Dean.
Oh God, forgive us our sins
Tyres jolting, engine screaming, road short and unending.
Please…
Christ, with bullet holes in his hands and a bleeding mouth on his side:
Ripped asunder and scattered across a thousand stillborn skies.
I believe he screamed.
One thousand, four hundred and fifty one miles from Maryland to South Dakota.
Count them.
I believe in the Father, and in the Son
You’re still my brother.
and in the broken, foul-mouthed Spirit.
Wasn’t your fault, Sammy.
So forgive us our sins
As He breaks, so shall It break.
And deliver us from evil.
It wasn’t your fault.
Yes Dean- it was.
No… it was mine.