Fic: The Shattered One (23/?)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
The pucker in the fabric of space and time that was caused by a large number of humans being taken over by demons emanated from some manner of warehouse. Castiel followed the sense of wrong to its source and found himself outside a large building with a plain front, large metal doors, and no windows. Castiel stood outside a moment, pondering the situation. It was odd for a Hellmouth to be centered in a building, only because the effects a portal to the underworld had on the physical space near it. Most manmade structures would buckle under the strain. Then again, it did appear to be a sturdy, stout building… and if Lucifer wanted to open one in an urban area, doing so within a building seemed unavoidable.
Castiel surveyed the surrounding area, but it looked no different from the place where he had left the Winchesters… civilization given over to chaos and disarray. That would be expected from the land in the immediate proximity to a Hellmouth.
Shaking out his arm and clasping the hilt of his angel blade as it shifted into physicality, Castiel moved forward. He used the door (maybe he was more fallen than he thought) and was met with pitch black. He chose to see within it - that, at least, still separated him from mortal man - and he realized it was a narrow foyer area (more like a hallway he’d entered at an intersection). The walls were painted black, and no more than a dozen steps in front of him was yet another entryway, this one with a long black curtain for a door.
When he pushed through that, he stopped to assess the scene.
Inside, the place was dark, but not as pitch as the receiving area had been. The floor was plain concrete and wet in places. The walls were strewn with garish, reflective paper stars, luminescent neon paint, and mismatched graffiti (depicting both crude artwork and words). The ceiling was cluttered with reflective orbs and multi-colored lights. Though he had never been in one himself, Castiel knew the type of establishment… a night club for the gathering of sexually eager humans to gather and rub against each other, usually involving copious amounts of alcohol and loud music.
He wondered why Dean wasn’t a fan of them… they sounded like the type of place that would be to his liking, and yet he overwhelmingly favored bars.
Any further thoughts or observations about the room Castiel might have taken note of were pushed aside when the angel noticed movement near the back of the massive building. He stepped forward for a better look.
When he was no more than a quarter of the way into the building, he stopped and stared in incomprehension at what was happening.
The back of the club was packed with humans. A thick, writhing press of them. Easily one hundred men and women all together. Not a single one of them was upright, and when Castiel squinted, he could see why. Every one of them to a person had had their legs broken. They were a pile of humans, unable to run, no way to escape what was happening to them. Swarming over the great mass of humanity, like flies, was the telltale smoke of demons. They were looping, coiling in the air, arching up into the darkness, doubling back, and forcing themselves into any available mouth open on a moan or scream. Each human was possessed no longer than a few seconds before the demon was spilling up and out again, doing its sadistic aerial acrobatics before diving into another poor soul. It was a flesh-knot of the possessed, the recently possessed, those damned to be possessed soon again.
Castiel froze, perplexed. His senses felt each possession like a twinge of nausea (he knew the feeling ‘nauseated’ now to be able to call it that). It resonated wrong.
And the way the demons were jumping in and out of humans in quick succession, from a distance it had read to his angelic senses as the resulting mass-possessions that followed the opening of a Hellmouth.
But this was not a Hellmouth, though it had been orchestrated to fool an angel into believing it was one.
A trap.
Castiel was starting to draw back, sword at the ready, when he heard a noise he knew well from traveling with the Winchesters. The sound of matches scratching on a matchbook lighting strip.
He whirled toward the door, where a demon, all black eyes and blood-thirsty grin, dropped a handful of flame.
Castiel tensed to move against her, before the matches could even fall, when the same noise came from his left, his right, behind him. Castiel turned in a circle and saw a ring of demons, those hardly-lucky few left the use of their legs, each letting a matchbook of fire fall to the ground.
When the matches landed, as one, they ignited lines in the concrete, fire racing out and around in a circle. The speed at which the fire spread and the pulse of gut-reaction panic that flared in Castiel told him that the wetness he’d noticed on the floor before had not been spilled beer… it was holy oil.
The circle made a fiery corral around Castiel… then snakes of oil laid on the ground began to lick their way inward, toward him.
Castiel lurched backward from the fire, retreating just ahead of the flames. He flinched from a spider web pattern coming in at him from the opposite direction. For a second, Castiel thought the closing trails of fire would meet in the center and burn him. He thought this was how he would die.
He regretted that he would not see Dean and Daniel again.
Then the fire cut left and right, coiled around him, and before long Castiel found himself standing in a circle of fire within a circle of fire, the two rings connected with paths of flame like the spokes of a wagon wheel.
Castiel turned in a tight circle, tucking his wings in close to avoid the flames. He was trapped.
“Worked like a charm,” the first demon, the Mediterranean-looking woman, said with a wicked smile. The demons doing the body-swap dance near the back settled into whichever body they found first and waited. There were more humans than demons, so not all were quieted by a demon invader. From those who were not possessed, the wails and moans continued.
The demon who’d first lit the fire looked toward her comrades in the broken humans and snarled, “Shut them up.”
And with that, the demons inside went ballistic, tearing up their hosts from the inside out. When the demons rushed out, the humans left behind were mere corpses. The same fate befell the remaining humans, until the club was cast into deafening silence. Their work done, the black smoke creatures vanished through air vents and the cracks of doors… no doubt off in search of meatsuits that could do more than writhe and die for the purpose of attracting angels.
The ambulatory demons who’d sprung the trap paced the burning perimeter that held Castiel captive. The leader, the woman, among them turned to a companion and said, “Tell Lucifer we have him.”
Castiel stiffened.
The second demon disappeared into the darkness.
Then it was down to a waiting game.
Castiel wondered how long it would take for Lucifer to show up.
As it turned out, not long.
The notorious fallen angel himself pushed through the black curtain only a few minutes later and settled smug, smarmy eyes on Castiel.
Then Lucifer froze. The arrogance in his expression gave way to genuine surprise.
Castiel tensed, sword still gripped tightly in his hand, despite the fact that several feet of holy fire separated him from his brother.
When Lucifer recovered, he huffed. “Well, well. Castiel. I have to admit, you were the last angel I expected. How are you not dead? Last time I remember seeing you, you were in some miserable cabin tearing in two.”
Castiel straightened his shoulders defiantly. “I believe humans have a saying that involves a fat woman that applies in this situation.”
Lucifer shook his head. “I’m impressed, little brother… how’d you do it?” He raked an invasive look up and down Castiel’s body. “The shattered one is gone. Huh. I didn’t think any of our haughty brothers and sisters on high would lower themselves to save a fallen angel.”
Castiel said nothing. He would not reveal Daniel’s existence to Lucifer.
It didn’t seem to trouble him. “You really are full of surprises. You certainly surprised me.” Lucifer slowly paced along the fire line, all the devil-may-care affectations in the world utterly failing to mask his dark power. “Though as interesting as this development is, you weren’t the angel I was looking to trap.”
“You mean I’m not Michael.”
“No offense, Castiel, but you don’t worry me. Intrigue me, yes, but I was trying to eliminate an actual threat.” Lucifer stopped, cocked his head, and a dark, happy light flickered in the firelight dancing out of his eyes. “Then again… if you’re here, that must mean the Winchesters are around.”
“I’m alone,” Castiel said quickly.
“Please… don’t even try; you don’t lie well. And even if you weren’t a shitty liar, I know you better than that… you hardly go anywhere without your precious humans.”
The thought of Lucifer going after the Winchesters - and Daniel - made Castiel brash. He edged closer to the fire holding him prisoner, desperate to get out and fight the Devil. His wing came too close to the holy fire and was immediately burned. He jerked back in pain, shaking with frustration and the agony of even just a touch of holy fire burning through his grace.
Lucifer chuckled. “Oh, you’re cute, Castiel. You know, for a second, I was disappointed to see it was you my demons had captured… but this might be even better. Thank you for bringing Sam Winchester right to me.”
“No,” Castiel barked.
Lucifer grinned. The fire made his smile a mouthful of orange and red. “Oh, definitely yes.” Something angry and twisted replaced the twinkle of cunning and cocksure in Lucifer’s eyes. His true self shone through in the firelight. “And I’m through being a nice guy - I don’t have the luxury anymore. Sam Winchester will consent to be my vessel, no matter what it takes. This world will be brought to its knees; you can count on that, brother.”
Lucifer turned to leave.
“Lucifer!” Castiel called after him.
Lucifer stopped and looked over his shoulder at the trapped angel. “You just sit tight here, Castiel… when I’ve taken Sam Winchester, I’ll be back for you.”
Then Lucifer was gone.
And Castiel was helpless, trapped in a burning cage of holy fire.
Next
The pucker in the fabric of space and time that was caused by a large number of humans being taken over by demons emanated from some manner of warehouse. Castiel followed the sense of wrong to its source and found himself outside a large building with a plain front, large metal doors, and no windows. Castiel stood outside a moment, pondering the situation. It was odd for a Hellmouth to be centered in a building, only because the effects a portal to the underworld had on the physical space near it. Most manmade structures would buckle under the strain. Then again, it did appear to be a sturdy, stout building… and if Lucifer wanted to open one in an urban area, doing so within a building seemed unavoidable.
Castiel surveyed the surrounding area, but it looked no different from the place where he had left the Winchesters… civilization given over to chaos and disarray. That would be expected from the land in the immediate proximity to a Hellmouth.
Shaking out his arm and clasping the hilt of his angel blade as it shifted into physicality, Castiel moved forward. He used the door (maybe he was more fallen than he thought) and was met with pitch black. He chose to see within it - that, at least, still separated him from mortal man - and he realized it was a narrow foyer area (more like a hallway he’d entered at an intersection). The walls were painted black, and no more than a dozen steps in front of him was yet another entryway, this one with a long black curtain for a door.
When he pushed through that, he stopped to assess the scene.
Inside, the place was dark, but not as pitch as the receiving area had been. The floor was plain concrete and wet in places. The walls were strewn with garish, reflective paper stars, luminescent neon paint, and mismatched graffiti (depicting both crude artwork and words). The ceiling was cluttered with reflective orbs and multi-colored lights. Though he had never been in one himself, Castiel knew the type of establishment… a night club for the gathering of sexually eager humans to gather and rub against each other, usually involving copious amounts of alcohol and loud music.
He wondered why Dean wasn’t a fan of them… they sounded like the type of place that would be to his liking, and yet he overwhelmingly favored bars.
Any further thoughts or observations about the room Castiel might have taken note of were pushed aside when the angel noticed movement near the back of the massive building. He stepped forward for a better look.
When he was no more than a quarter of the way into the building, he stopped and stared in incomprehension at what was happening.
The back of the club was packed with humans. A thick, writhing press of them. Easily one hundred men and women all together. Not a single one of them was upright, and when Castiel squinted, he could see why. Every one of them to a person had had their legs broken. They were a pile of humans, unable to run, no way to escape what was happening to them. Swarming over the great mass of humanity, like flies, was the telltale smoke of demons. They were looping, coiling in the air, arching up into the darkness, doubling back, and forcing themselves into any available mouth open on a moan or scream. Each human was possessed no longer than a few seconds before the demon was spilling up and out again, doing its sadistic aerial acrobatics before diving into another poor soul. It was a flesh-knot of the possessed, the recently possessed, those damned to be possessed soon again.
Castiel froze, perplexed. His senses felt each possession like a twinge of nausea (he knew the feeling ‘nauseated’ now to be able to call it that). It resonated wrong.
And the way the demons were jumping in and out of humans in quick succession, from a distance it had read to his angelic senses as the resulting mass-possessions that followed the opening of a Hellmouth.
But this was not a Hellmouth, though it had been orchestrated to fool an angel into believing it was one.
A trap.
Castiel was starting to draw back, sword at the ready, when he heard a noise he knew well from traveling with the Winchesters. The sound of matches scratching on a matchbook lighting strip.
He whirled toward the door, where a demon, all black eyes and blood-thirsty grin, dropped a handful of flame.
Castiel tensed to move against her, before the matches could even fall, when the same noise came from his left, his right, behind him. Castiel turned in a circle and saw a ring of demons, those hardly-lucky few left the use of their legs, each letting a matchbook of fire fall to the ground.
When the matches landed, as one, they ignited lines in the concrete, fire racing out and around in a circle. The speed at which the fire spread and the pulse of gut-reaction panic that flared in Castiel told him that the wetness he’d noticed on the floor before had not been spilled beer… it was holy oil.
The circle made a fiery corral around Castiel… then snakes of oil laid on the ground began to lick their way inward, toward him.
Castiel lurched backward from the fire, retreating just ahead of the flames. He flinched from a spider web pattern coming in at him from the opposite direction. For a second, Castiel thought the closing trails of fire would meet in the center and burn him. He thought this was how he would die.
He regretted that he would not see Dean and Daniel again.
Then the fire cut left and right, coiled around him, and before long Castiel found himself standing in a circle of fire within a circle of fire, the two rings connected with paths of flame like the spokes of a wagon wheel.
Castiel turned in a tight circle, tucking his wings in close to avoid the flames. He was trapped.
“Worked like a charm,” the first demon, the Mediterranean-looking woman, said with a wicked smile. The demons doing the body-swap dance near the back settled into whichever body they found first and waited. There were more humans than demons, so not all were quieted by a demon invader. From those who were not possessed, the wails and moans continued.
The demon who’d first lit the fire looked toward her comrades in the broken humans and snarled, “Shut them up.”
And with that, the demons inside went ballistic, tearing up their hosts from the inside out. When the demons rushed out, the humans left behind were mere corpses. The same fate befell the remaining humans, until the club was cast into deafening silence. Their work done, the black smoke creatures vanished through air vents and the cracks of doors… no doubt off in search of meatsuits that could do more than writhe and die for the purpose of attracting angels.
The ambulatory demons who’d sprung the trap paced the burning perimeter that held Castiel captive. The leader, the woman, among them turned to a companion and said, “Tell Lucifer we have him.”
Castiel stiffened.
The second demon disappeared into the darkness.
Then it was down to a waiting game.
Castiel wondered how long it would take for Lucifer to show up.
As it turned out, not long.
The notorious fallen angel himself pushed through the black curtain only a few minutes later and settled smug, smarmy eyes on Castiel.
Then Lucifer froze. The arrogance in his expression gave way to genuine surprise.
Castiel tensed, sword still gripped tightly in his hand, despite the fact that several feet of holy fire separated him from his brother.
When Lucifer recovered, he huffed. “Well, well. Castiel. I have to admit, you were the last angel I expected. How are you not dead? Last time I remember seeing you, you were in some miserable cabin tearing in two.”
Castiel straightened his shoulders defiantly. “I believe humans have a saying that involves a fat woman that applies in this situation.”
Lucifer shook his head. “I’m impressed, little brother… how’d you do it?” He raked an invasive look up and down Castiel’s body. “The shattered one is gone. Huh. I didn’t think any of our haughty brothers and sisters on high would lower themselves to save a fallen angel.”
Castiel said nothing. He would not reveal Daniel’s existence to Lucifer.
It didn’t seem to trouble him. “You really are full of surprises. You certainly surprised me.” Lucifer slowly paced along the fire line, all the devil-may-care affectations in the world utterly failing to mask his dark power. “Though as interesting as this development is, you weren’t the angel I was looking to trap.”
“You mean I’m not Michael.”
“No offense, Castiel, but you don’t worry me. Intrigue me, yes, but I was trying to eliminate an actual threat.” Lucifer stopped, cocked his head, and a dark, happy light flickered in the firelight dancing out of his eyes. “Then again… if you’re here, that must mean the Winchesters are around.”
“I’m alone,” Castiel said quickly.
“Please… don’t even try; you don’t lie well. And even if you weren’t a shitty liar, I know you better than that… you hardly go anywhere without your precious humans.”
The thought of Lucifer going after the Winchesters - and Daniel - made Castiel brash. He edged closer to the fire holding him prisoner, desperate to get out and fight the Devil. His wing came too close to the holy fire and was immediately burned. He jerked back in pain, shaking with frustration and the agony of even just a touch of holy fire burning through his grace.
Lucifer chuckled. “Oh, you’re cute, Castiel. You know, for a second, I was disappointed to see it was you my demons had captured… but this might be even better. Thank you for bringing Sam Winchester right to me.”
“No,” Castiel barked.
Lucifer grinned. The fire made his smile a mouthful of orange and red. “Oh, definitely yes.” Something angry and twisted replaced the twinkle of cunning and cocksure in Lucifer’s eyes. His true self shone through in the firelight. “And I’m through being a nice guy - I don’t have the luxury anymore. Sam Winchester will consent to be my vessel, no matter what it takes. This world will be brought to its knees; you can count on that, brother.”
Lucifer turned to leave.
“Lucifer!” Castiel called after him.
Lucifer stopped and looked over his shoulder at the trapped angel. “You just sit tight here, Castiel… when I’ve taken Sam Winchester, I’ll be back for you.”
Then Lucifer was gone.
And Castiel was helpless, trapped in a burning cage of holy fire.
Next