Dean sheds his first blood...

He watched as the cables towed the woman into the darkened room.

Her eyes were wide and panicked as she looked around and saw nothing but bare rock walls brought to light by a single bare light bulb. A wavy mist hung in the air, but it brought her no reprieve from the heat - it actually left a smokey taste on her tongue and in her nose. She had blonde hair - kind of an ashen shade - and deep hazel eyes that seemed to swallow what little light there was. She was beautiful, that was undeniable. But there was something even more remarkable about her. Any other demon wouldn't have cared, and would have begun tearing without a thought. But the patient demons would sit back a little and admire her unblemished skin, a sight rarely seen in Hell. Aside from the hooks, there wasn't a single flaw on her body; no burns, no gaping wounds, not even a bruise. She was a newcomer to the realm of torture. She was fresh.

The mist swirled with every breath she took, which was accelerated into labored huffing by her own panic. But behind the woman's breathing was a sound so subtle that at first, she thought she was hearing things. Her ears were not deceiving her, however. Whispers, only a few hushed voices saying indiscernible words, no louder than a light wind through trees. They echoed scarcely off the jagged walls. She tossed her head this way and that trying to pinpoint the source, but as soon as she looked in the direction of the sound, the whispers were elsewhere. Her fear spiked, and a few sobs managed to leak out with her breath. Tears formed in her eyes, from heat and pain and fear. She had no idea where she was or what was going on. The pain in her shoulders and wrists was unbearable. She hung in terror and agony, alone with the whispers.

Then the whispers stopped.

The woman flinched on her rack as a soft gust of air stirred across her back. A deep sense of foreboding settled like lead in her chest as the air became more frenzied with movement and the mist swirled frantically. Something was about to happen - something bad. She began to struggle on her rack, jerking and pulling despite the immense pain it caused her. The shackles around her ankles were very heavy, however, and kept her firmly anchored onto the hooks. The woman grunted and whimpered as her efforts proved to be more and more futile. Moisture trickled down her forehead - whether it was sweat or accumulated mist, she didn't know. The hooks in her flesh began to bleed, sending red rivulets down her chest and sides. But after a while, she ceased in her struggle to get free, panting on her rack in resignation. She had noticed that the air had stopped moving, too. Her eyes were slowly sweeping the room, taking in the craggy walls, the mist, and the - wait... Her eyes locked onto the space in front of her, peering into the area between herself and the wall. Something was there, something so faint and ethereal that she wasn't even sure if what she thought she saw was in fact what she was seeing. Maybe just a trick of the eyes. But the longer she stared, the more she was sure. A face, only several inches away, staring back at her.

"Don't be afraid." A voice resounded through the room, coming from all angles in a quiet, non-threatening tone. The woman jerked away on her rack, torquing her shoulders painfully. There was no way that could have been a trick.

"Who's there?!" She screeched, kicking her legs and making her shackles clang loudly. Tears streamed from her eyes, but her voice remained relatively steady. "Help! Someone help me!"

Her torrent of cries was cut short in her throat as a man stepped into the mist - or more accurately, he stepped out of it, his form pulling from the swirling moisture in the air. Beads of water clung to his silver skin and gleamed quietly in the dim light. The woman took all of him in, not knowing what to think. He was humanoid in form, but she could barely call him human. His skin looked like it belonged on a corpse, but he radiated strength and power and life. The hair on the top of his head was cut short into a military cut, but it was a shocking white color. As were his eyebrows and eyelashes. It was his eyes that stopped her. One was a harmless green, a familiar shade that almost felt welcoming. But the other eye was gone completely, and thin gray smoke lazily drifted out of the open socket, rising up and dissipating into the mist. He filled her with equal amounts of terror and wonder. Her mind screamed monster, but her heart played with the idea of angel.

For a long while, they just stared at each other. He didn't seem threatening or menacing, but she wasn't getting a very 'friendly' vibe from him either. She couldn't tell what he was feeling, and his piercing one-eyed gaze made her uncomfortable. Then he took a step toward her, and she remembered to be afraid.

"No! Get away!" Her hands were clenched into fists and straining at her hooks. He didn't stop, taking slow deliberate steps and getting closer. "I said stay away!"

He did stop, at only a few inches away from her. He was way too close for comfort, and she instinctively craned her head away from him. He looked at her with a steely eye. Not menacing, but not friendly.

"What's you're name?" His voice was deep and gravely.

The question caught her off guard. As a result, she didn't answer. The mist continued to lazily cascade through the air as each moment became more tense. He patiently waited for her to give an answer, while she decided whether or not she should give one. His one empty eye socket deeply unnerved her. He squinted his good eye as the silence became too prolonged, and slowly tilted his head down and to the side, gazing up at her through his snowy white eye-lashes.

"Unless you would rather me just call you 'girl', or 'woman', or 'bitch', or 'hag', or-"

"My name is Lynn, you pompous bastard!" She was appalled by his bluntness, and it had immediately put her on the offensive. No man - if indeed that was what he was - was going to talk to her that way.

He smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, making Lynn feel ashamed that she had fallen for his trap so easily. He spread his arms a little and bent forward in a mock bow, never taking his eye off of her.

"It's good to meet you, Lynn." He sounded sincere. "My name is Dean."

"I don't care who you are, just let me go." Lynn refused to be cajoled by this "Dean" creature. "I haven't done anything wrong."

Dean straightened. He had a look on his face that Lynn could only identify as befuddlement. He began to circle her slowly, taking in her naked form and the fresh blood-trails running down from the hooks. She tried to follow him, but the hooks in her shoulders made it difficult to move her head. Dean cocked an eyebrow, like he wasn't sure if he liked what he saw.

"What's the last thing you remember, Lynn?" He continued to circle her, the mist trailing after him like a cape. Lynn gave a sigh of frustration, her shoulders and wrists still hurting like the devil.

"I was walking to my car after a late night at work." Her voice was exhausted, softened by the terror the memory brought with it. "Somebody grabbed me from behind and put a knife to my throat. I suppose that was you?"

Dean, still circling, puckered his lips in consideration. "Possibly," he finally said. "What happened next?"

"I started to fight back, but then I blacked out." Lynn huffed a breath, for the incredulity of the circumstances was not lost on her. "The next thing I know, I'm being butchered like some-some pig on these godforsaken hooks! What do you want from me? Why am I here?"

Dean stopped circling, standing in front of her without a word. Lynn just now realized that the man didn't appear to be breathing - his chest did not rise or fall. After several seconds of silence, Lynn looked to Dean's face. He still looked confused, but now there was something more there - could it have been, perhaps... pity?

"I'm afraid I can't give you a clear answer to that." Dean's voice echoed in the room, though he couldn't have been speaking louder than a whisper. "What did you do for a living?"

Why so many questions? Lynn was beginning to think that this really was some big mistake. But she didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"It doesn't matter, I haven't done anything to deserve this kind of treatment!" She snarled.

Dean huffed a laugh, resuming his circling. "You must have done something, or else you wouldn't be here. You see," Dean said as he stepped up close behind her, nearly putting his lips to her ear. "you're dead, Lynn - and you're in Hell."

The only movement in the room was the swirling mist, the smoke curling out of Dean's eye, and Lynn's jaw slowly dropping open. Her mind was simultaneously blank and racing, trying to interpret some hidden meaning that must have been in his words. A metaphorical 'Hell', perhaps. But Dean didn't seem like the type to exaggerate.

"I... I don't believe in Hell..." Even as she said the words, her body began to shake with fear. Dean must have sensed it, smirking in her ear as he backed away.

"Maybe that's it," Dean wondered out loud. "Being a non-believer doesn't protect you from judgment. It's a harsh reality we live in... or rather, used to live in."

"Stop saying that!" Lynn snapped. "I can't be dead! I have a career and a family - my... my daughter..." The tears that rolled down her cheeks were thick and hot. She shut her eyes tightly, as if that would make them stop. "Please just let me see my daughter again..."

Lynn flinched suddenly as a hand caressed her cheek. Her eyes flew open, shocked to see Dean's face barely an inch from her own. There was darkness in his eye, but the sympathy she saw on his face threw her off completely.

"Lynn." His voice was gentle. "I'm sorry, but you know that what I'm saying is the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense out of all of this; about me, about the hooks. You were murdered, and somehow, for some reason, you came here. You'll never see your loved ones again."

Lynn's heart would have shattered if it was still beating. But even though it wasn't, the pain of the realization was just as great. Dean was telling the truth. He had to be. She could think of no reason why he would lie to her - and she hated him more for that. She wanted to weep and bawl and sob her eyes out. She wanted to scream and thrash and kick until the hooks tore her to shreds. But shock alone kept her from doing any of those things, leaving her frozen on her rack as the her internal agony did more damage than any demon ever could. Dean's thumb stroked her cheek gently, a lover's touch that brought her some comfort that she didn't want. Slowly, Lynn's gaze focused and locked onto Dean's face.

"If this is Hell..." She started, unblinking. "Then what does that make you?"

The stroking stopped. The question hung heavy in the air, the mist swirling between them as a growing unease settled on Lynn. Dean's eye never broke her gaze, his face perfectly stone and his hand still cradling her jaw. She didn't notice that his skin was ice cold until now.

"Has anybody ever told you," he said, "that you have amazing skin?"

As she watched, the smoke curling out of his empty eye socket turned from a light gray to an inky black. His good eye also flooded with black, like an endless void. Lynn couldn't help but stare in horror, seeing herself reflected in that blackness. When Dean smiled, it was no longer friendly or gentle - it was a feral grin, hungry and twisted. If Lynn had been scared when she got here, she was definitely terrified now.

"It's so complete, so flawless." Dean's hand traveled from her chin to her shoulder, then down to her chest. When he spoke, his voice was at a whisper. "It makes me want to rip it off."

His hand froze right above her belly button. Dean licked his lips, and if Lynn didn't know any better, she would say he was shaking. The man hesitated, as if he was making a choice. Lynn saw the exact moment when he made his decision in his eye. With a single huff of laughter, Dean smiled widely at her, his eye bright with excitement.

"Welcome to Hell, Lynn."

With a single thrust, Dean dug his fingers into her abdomen. A blast of power shot through Lynn's body, making her seize and toss her head back. The energy ripped outward, tearing her skin from her muscles. Even the thin layers of skin on her ears and eyelids and between her toes was torn off of her body. The walls of the room were spattered with red. A large puddle of her blood and other fluids had already accumulated on the floor. Dean, breathing heavily, reached a hand up to wipe the smear off of his cheek as he took in the woman's new look. He could count the number of veins and arteries that snaked over Lynn's flayed body, could see them shake and bunch with every move she made. The white tendons connecting the muscles to the bones were no thicker than Dean's pinkie fingernail. Lynn's lipless mouth was open in a noiseless scream as every nerve was exposed to the hot, harsh air. Her eyes were flooded with her own blood, and the bare spots of her skull were a dark pink. She was unrecognizable.

Then she started to scream. Dean's eye rolled back in his head as he shivered with euphoria. Damn, it felt good to hear her scream.

Dean reached a hand up, ready to continue his session, when suddenly the chains came to life and began to haul the woman's bleeding husk away, her screams echoing down the hallway. His excitement was immediately replaced with annoyance. Turning around, he growled at the white demon that had stepped into the room with him.

"I wasn't done yet." Dean scowled.

"You wasted all your time talking to her, I'm afraid. " Alistair picked his ear with his pinkie. "Now that you know what it feels like, maybe you'll be a little quicker next time."

Dean scowled as the air swirled around him. Gordon and Bella stepped out of what was left of the mist, leaving the air clear. Where normal demons had ethereal forms of muggy black smoke, they had a fine silver mist. As of now, they were all just beginning to learn the extent of their new abilities. Bella stepped up beside Dean, black hair all swept to one side, while Gordon stood between Dean and Alistair his arms crossed.

"What was the entire point of talking to her?" Gordon bared his pointed teeth. "Trying to go easy on her? Trying to be her friend? What a load of bullshit."

"Torture isn't just physical," Dean spat back. "You didn't see the look in her eyes when she realized she wasn't going home, when she knew that there was no hope for her. I'm surprised her hook didn't break right there."

"You just didn't have the guts."

"No, he's right," Alistair interrupted. "Mental torture can be just as damaging as physical." Alistair grinned slyly at Dean. "You would know that better than anyone, wouldn't you, son?"

Dean huffed a laugh through his nose. "Learned from the best, didn't I?"

"Indeed." Alistair considered all three of them before turning and heading back down the corridor, into the bowels of the castle. "Come. There are preparations that need to be made."

They fell in step behind him, leaving the blood stained room behind. Bella sidled up to Dean, nudging him with his elbow.

"Well, did you feel it?" She asked quietly. "Better than sex, right?"

Dean smirked. "I don't know what kind of sex you've been having... but yes, this was much better."

It truly was. There were almost to words to describe the release that Dean had felt as her blood was dripping off of his fingers. His whole body was still electrified - he would have had goosebumps if he was human. It was like a deep breath of fresh air, like taking your shoes off after a long day of walking, like so many other appropriate metaphors that Dean could think of, but hundreds of times more fulfilling. It really was like one big orgasm.

"I do have to know one thing," Dean said to Alistair's back. "Why was she here?"

Alistair tossed a hand in a dismissive manner. "A jealous coworker at the hospital she worked at wanted to make sure that she got the promotion over Lynn, so she made a deal, forfeiting both of their lives to Hell. The coworker should be joining us in five years."

"A hospital?" Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Was she a doctor?"

"No. Just a Nurse." Alistair replied.

Dean considered that for a second. "Pity."

Alistair lead them into the anti-chamber of the castle, a large room deep within the floating rock. It almost looked like a catacomb, with bones decorating the walls and ceiling. A spinal vertebrae chandelier lit by blood candles cast deep shadows into every nook and cranny, and made the three silver demons' skin gleam slightly. Blood streamed down the walls from an unknown source. Alistair took a seat in the distorted throne at the end of the chamber, a chair made with warped metal, burned wood, and charred human bones. It was a little tacky for Dean's taste, but he wasn't about to tell Alistair how to live his life.

"We have littler time than I thought. "Alistair rubbed his head, all of his eyes squeezed tightly as if he had a headache. "As we speak, the legions of Heaven are planning on mounting a siege on Hell. I'm not sure why, but it's going to be hard to... what? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

So Dean hadn't been the only one to gape in shock. Gordon held his hands in front of him, his forehead crinkled with thought.

"Wait wait wait." He narrowed his eyes at Alistair. "Angels? Are you talking about angels?!"

"Of course I am, you stupid boy," Alistair hissed. "What else would I be talking about!"

"Angels exist?" Bella's voice was barely above a murmur.

"Yes, and they're stuck up bastards who think they're better than everybody else." Alistair switched his gaze between the three demons. "Did you seriously think that angels weren't real when you also knew that there were demons in the world? You can't have one without the other."

"Maybe you should have led with that." Dean rolled his eye in annoyance. Angels. Freaking angels. What was next? La Chupacabra?

"It doesn't matter," Alistair was getting angry. "The point is that Hell is about to be overwhelmed, and I'm not ready for those flying dicks to know about you three."

The three demons looked between each other. They weren't stupid - though they didn't know much about angels, they did know that if Alistair was scared, then they should be, too.

"So what are we going to do?" Bella spoke first.

"I need to get you all out of Hell before they get here." Alistair stood. "It's not going to be easy, even for you. But we have no choice. Lilith is getting anxious."

Dean stiffened. "Lilith? We're working with that bitch?"

Alistair leered at Dean. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find it in your heart to forgive her for killing you."

Dean scowled, the thought of Lilith making his skin crawl. Demon or not, it would be asking a lot of Dean to try to reconcile with the demon that had put him and Sam through so much. But... as much as he hated to admit it, he feared her more than he hated her. She was powerful, even more powerful than Dean was now. Possibly stronger than Alistair. To cross her again would be a very stupid mistake on Dean's part. In the past, he might have just said "screw that" and done it anyway, but now... things were different. Now, they were on the same side.

"Don't look so panicked, Dean." Alistair groaned at the expression on his face. "Lilith is currently in hiding. She won't reveal her location to anybody, not even me. But I will not be accompanying you to Earth, I have too much here that I need to do. So Lilith has sent her most trusted follower to relay her orders to you while you're up there."

"We're supposed to take orders from some lackey?" Gordon scowled. "You've got to be kidding."

"I get paid more than you, numb nuts."

They all turned at the sound of the voice. A demon strolled into the anti-chamber, smoke curling around it's form and bloodshot eyes peering out at them from behind mottled brown hair. Dean's mouth dropped open for the second time that day - he had seen this demon before, up on Earth, when he was still alive. They looked a little worse for wear now, but he definitely knew who it was the moment their eyes locked on each other. And yet, he found himself completely unsurprised.

"I knew it." He grumbled.

Ruby grinned at Dean. "Nice to see you again, short bus."

A/N: Hello! A lot has happened in the world since the last chapter, so I hope everyone is doing okay. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story. Seriously, I wish my other stories got as much love as this one does. Thank you so much.

Most of this chapter happened in one night, and I'm afraid that it really shows. I'll come back and edit it at some point.

As always, read, review, and enjoy!