Evil With A View

It was a simple hotel. One night stay. No cause for alarm. Or so the Winchester's thought. Until I showed up. They never saw it coming, but I'd be watching them for weeks, learning their habits. Hell, it was beautiful, almost like having them lo-jacked. And then I pounced. They screamed like little girls. Whiney bitches, in their oh so precious skin. Makes me sick, having to use a meatsuit to inflect any real damage. No matter, though. You have to do what you have to do.

"Time to play, boys," I call, sashaying over to the two bound brothers.

The boy's eyes bug out from behind their mouth gags, slightly bloodshot from straining at their binding.

They'd never suspected. I had been able to walk right up to the door, just called out to them, "Room service," and they'd came running like two little puppies starving for a meal. Never asking the question as to why room service would come so late and to basically a shack in the woods. I knew they were will settled, though, as the smoke coming out of the chimney indicated a decent fire was blazing. Which played right into my hand.

She thinks back to what she had seen that night, before entering the room, simple hunts for such experienced hunters.

A salt and burn to stop a haunting. Run of the mill stuff, although it was still hard to accomplish, even for these two. They'd eventually called in their friend, Bobby, and that skank demon, Ruby. It all turned out ok in the end.

And now they were in my hands, my control.

How the bitch stood by them in that rotting meat and obeyed their every whim was beyond me. She could be something more. Something powerful. They should bow down to her. Instead, she flings her brunette locks around and simpers at other demons. Makes me damn sick. But I waited until they were all gone and it was just the two. Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Twisted, effed up souls caught in a battle they knew nothing about.

Never mind that. If the others found out about me, about my plans, they'd kill me. Heaven and hell would destroy me. Still might. But, I'll have gotten the Winchesters.

The demon shook herself out of her thoughts and moves in closer to the Winchesters. She holds a flail in her hands; her ruby red mouth twists into a wicked grin.

"So, which one is going to play first?"

She reaches one hand down and slowly strokes the chain that the flail ball hung from. All part of her arsenal of torture that she never leaves home without.

Dean's eyes beg for her to spare Sam, and Sam's eyes beg for her to take him and spare Dean more pain and anguish.

"I can see you both are such sanctimonious bitches. So willing to play the martyr card."

Slowly, the chain drops to its full length and the demon begins to swing it around and around, from shoulder to hip. Again and again. The pace is slow at first, but quickens as does the hearts of everyone in the room. When she lets the spike covered ball strike both brother's legs she lets out a squeal of delight. Sam and Dean bite back their shouts as the teeth of the device dig into their skin and pull out chunks of flesh. A splash of blood covers the floor, and with it the scent of iron. The rust red color stains the floor in gory detail, bits of white flesh speckles it.

"I bet you're wondering what I want now, aren't you? Silly boys. Or boy, rather. I expect Sam has no clue, but, well, two Winchesters for the price of one. I just can't resist that!"

Her eyes flash black and then appear normal again; all the while she swings the sinister-looking scourge from side to side, careful not to hit herself or the brothers again. Not yet, anyway. The demon glances back down on her weapon of choice.

"I think I'm bored with this one, already. It's too easy. Not painful enough."