Scalding hot water exploded from the dodgy shower head which made Sam, the younger Winchester, instinctively jump back. He fiddled with the temperature control for a few seconds until he found a relatively comfortable temperature. He stood submerged in the spray of hot water for a few minutes longer as the water glued his long floppy brown hair to his face. He brought a hand up to brush it out of his closed eye when, all of a sudden, the water started to splutter out of the shower head until it eventually stopped. Sam gave up on his shower and made sure to turn the water off, even though it appeared to have stopped, just in case it decided to turn on again and flood the whole room while he slept. He wrapped a clean white towel around his waist and quickly dried himself off, shivering slightly as the air was much cooler now he was out of the shower. He had barely enough time to pull on his blue underwear and jeans before he was thrown through the locked bathroom door and into the wall at the far end of the motel room. He looked around wildly but couldn't see his attacker. His head throbbed as he lunged towards the silver knife that his big brother Dean kept under his pillow but before he could reach it something cold grabbed his ankles and he flew across the room, hitting another musty yellow wall. A small trickle of warm blood matted his wet hair at the back of his head and he slowly stood up. For a short moment all was calm. The desk suddenly shot through the air, dropping his laptop on the floor with a clatter, and hit Sam square on the forehead. His vision began to fail him as he collapsed onto the rough grey carpet and slid into unconsciousness.

Sam opened his eyes groggily. Everything was dark. "D...Dean?" he called out but no answer came. He slowly became aware of the pain in his neck and head. His elongated body had been squashed into a space that was far too small. Shit, where was he? He tried to move his arms only to discover that they had been secured behind his back with chunky iron cuffs, a thick iron chain linked the cuffs on his ankles to the cuffs on his wrists. Even if he had a knife he wouldn't have been able to cut through iron. He felt the slow rumble of a car's engine and tried to move his head to see if he could get a better look at where he was. He instantly regretted doing so as he ended up getting his neck into an even more uncomfortable position. Crap crap crap. This was not good. How had he been caught off guard like that? Dean was going to give him hell for this . . . and dad, if he ever came back from his hunt.

The engine stopped.

Sam froze. Someone, or something had stepped out of the car. He heard the door slam shut and the tyres rise up a little as the weight inside the car decreased. His breathing grew rapid and slightly panicked. "Calm down Sam." he muttered to himself "This isn't going to help you."

The cramped boot of the rusty car was yanked open and a bunch of scrunched up rags were stuffed into his mouth. Bright sunlight blinded his vision, so much so that he couldn't see any more than the silhouette of his attacker. He could tell that it was a man, unless it was a ridiculously oversized woman. and they were – by the looks of it – very strong. A thick strip of black cloth was tied over his eyes, obstructing his vision, and a strip of thick tape was roughly stuck over the rags in his mouth. He wanted to fight back but he could hardly move in the cramped space, even without the shackles restraining his movement. Rough hands grabbed him and he was hauled out of the car and thrown onto the muddy ground. A second pair of hands joined the first. and together they dragged the helpless form of little Sam Winchester through the dirt and into a long abandoned warehouse. He deliberately tried to drag his feet through the soft dirt in the hope that he would either manage to leave a trail to mark where he was if Dean ever found him, or that his feet would catch on something, anything, that could help him.

"Naughty naughty." a voice hissed into his ear and his elephant feet were hoisted up off the ground by a third pair of hands, these were smaller but still clearly male. How many people were there? This was getting out of hand. He kicked both his feet backwards into something that felt like a very toned torso and smirked inside upon hearing an annoyed grunt. His glee was short lived. Someone, or something, grabbed his – now dry – mop of hair and yanked his head backwards. "You'll only make things worse for yourself. Sammy."

Sam grunted in frustration, no one called him Sammy but Dean. The strip of thick grey tape made him feel even more helpless than he already was. He noticed that the sound of their footsteps had changed, they had gone from a muffled tread along an old decaying carpet, to a hard strike which echoed around the large room.

All at once the many hands dropped him onto a hard concrete floor and the same force as before sent him skidding across the floor and into a brick wall. His head collided with the brick and he swam into unconsciousness.

When he woke he found himself slumped against a cold wall, "Dean...?" his weak voice echoed around the large room. His vision slowly cleared and he saw the faint flicker of half a dozen candles in brackets lining the walls behind and to the side of him. Wind whistled through the rafters and sent a shiver down his spine, it felt like the darkness was closing in on him. His feet were raw and studded with small stones. His toes and the hem of his jeans were caked with mud.

"Big brother's not here right now." a voice said from the shadows. He tried to see but the light from the candles only stretched so far.

"What do you want from me?" he asked trying his best to keep his voice steady, this wasn't the first time he'd been kidnapped.

"You know something, you hunters really do get in the way."

"That's what we do." he grumbled under his breath.

"But I really think it's high time you leave us in peace. And I know that the only way that'll happen is –"

"To kill us all." Sam said cutting him off "Of course you'd see that as the only option." he was trying to sound strong, trying to sound like Dean.

"You certainly do live up to your reputation as the smartest Winchester."

He could sense it grinning. "Don't worry Sammy. You're not going to die just yet. You're here as...well, I think you already know."

Sam wanted desperately to kill it. He tried to get up but found himself still chained up and now the chain, that connected his wrists to his ankles, was attached to the wall. He grunted and pulled at the chains, the sound of the metal rattling bounced around the room.

"You know it's futile." the voice moved closer, carried by light footsteps. "But," the blade of a knife caught the light, "Doesn't mean we can't have a little fun first." soon the voice had a body. A tall man emerged, he was strongly built, his young face bore traces of stubble, his eyes were black.

"Y-you're a..."

"Demon, yes, you are quick on the uptake." he stepped closer to Sam, his agonisingly slow footsteps made Sam's whole body tense. He spun the knife in his fingers and crouched down in front of Sam who shrunk back, fear visible on his young face. The demon grinned and jabbed the tip of the knife into the muscle above his heart. The knife was dragged right across Sam's chest, he clenched his teeth and fists until his knuckles were white, he gasped in pain. The demon grinned broadly and laughed as he made a second cut parallel to the first.

A woman entered to large room carrying an oil lamp, it illuminated the warehouse and the chains that dangled threateningly from the high ceiling, ropes swung from the rafters as if they were just waiting for their next victim. Sam wondered how many people had died here, it had the look of somewhere one would go to die. Like a hangman's forest. The woman stepped into the glow of the candle light and smiled wickedly.

"Hello Winchester." he glared at her but said nothing, blood trickled down his bare chest. Her grin widened and a second set of talon like teeth emerged, "We're not just a myth you know." she hissed with a vicious look in her cold grey eyes. Sam screamed as her fangs dug deep into his neck, she made sure not to cut any arteries.

The demon stood back with his arms folded across his chest "Don't kill him yet."

The vampire smiled and licked the blood from his neck, he flinched and tried to edge away but the chains kept him where he was.