Celebrating Supernatural -
23 Day Countdown Challenge
Day 8 - Episode 16
Theme - Dean Winchester's Journal
It’s hunger. It’s need. And I feel…everything.
I feel…I feel the give of skin under the edge of my blade. The crack of bone against the absolute fucking silence, exposing some poor soul’s everything to me and the nothing. Cracking each fuckin’ rib open to lay the bitch bare. And it’s so quiet. Oh, she’s screamin’. But here… In this world - In Hell - the silence is just the sweet fucking chorus of the screams you tear from the mutilated lungs of your damned little instrument.
The hunger….it wants it. It needs it. It needs the blood and the silent fucking screaming. It needs that sick fucking rapture, the pleasure high of control and being controlled and hitting every damned note just right until it sends you right over the edge. And I need it. I need to answer it. But my blade is fucking gone. The fucking piece of me that’s been missing for years. Since Hell. Since Alastair. Since I learned everything there was to know about pain and how to twist a human soul down into a bottom-dwelling piece of shit, hemorrhaging life and will and want and love until all that was left was the desire to bathe in fucking blood. Just like me. That deep fuckin’ nothing…the emptiness in the pit of my soul that craved some goddamned Hellfire was filled again. I was hungry, for the first time, because my nothing was filled with everything….Everything I’d been missing. Everything I needed. I needed And I need so fucking bad ‘cause I’m hungry but my is Blade gone and fucking Crowley that motherfucker I will fucking string him up on my goddamned mantle by his tiny demonic dick for taking it the fuck away from me.
Mm. Hemorrhaging life and will. That’s exactly what that fucker Magnus did to me. The fight, the little bit of will I had to say no for thirty fucking years. Sapped that shit right out of me. And it felt…I was relieved. I was fucking relieved It was a goddamned relief to buckle up in the passenger seat on this ride to my own personal Hell. The Mark and my Blade were in control and it felt fan-freakin’-tastic. It’s familiar. This… This is what was missing. The step I lost years ago. The part of me that slid off that rack and started singing some fucking Hallelujahs to finally have some blood on my hands..to finally be powerful to have a friggin purpose to tear souls apart under watchful eyes and praising hands and soaking everything in blood and sweat and cum and tears and the First Blade in my hand brought it all back to me and I was home and I need to fucking get back there. I need it.
But the Blade’s gone. It’s gone and I’m sitting here..empty-handed, broken, shaking, freakin’ miserable and I don’t even have the will. The mission, the drive to the fucking end…it’s still there, but I had all this will for vengeance, all this righteous fuckin’ fury, for Sam and for Cas and for fuckin’ everything that’s gone wrong and that’s just…gone. It’s just hunger. I’m hungry. And I want that feeling back. All of it. I don’t want to be empty. I don’t want be broken anymore. This..
The Mark… it’s fixing me.
When I held that Blade. My Blade. All that screaming… Every single friggin voice… The volume was fucking earth shattering… But they were all playing my tune. My kind of silence. My solace. My beautiful unchained fucking melody and i know every single word. And I know just how to slice to hit the right fuckin’ chord.
But now… My head is a goddamned sacrificial alter and I’m beggin’ for some fucking mercy because I can’t take all this fucking screaming when I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t have any blood or tears to appease it. Crowley took my Blade and I don’t know where the fuck that Ginger bitch is hiding and everything is even more fucked up than it already was I’m more fucked up than I already was and I’m hungry and I need some fucking blood on my hands before I rip my own goddamned skin off because it itches in my veins and it burns and it wants and it needs and I need and….fuck.
What have I done?
I’m not even human anymore. I’m turning into a monster so I can get this fucking job done. I’m going fucking insane to fix what I broke, to fix what’s broken in me. The Blade, the Mark, the fucking clarity…the clarity is eating me alive and drowning me in blood and sulfur and ash from all that damned Hellfire and that isn’t me. This isn’t me. I didn’t want this…
But it doesn’t matter. If this is what I have to submit to, I will. It’s okay. Because I’d never say it out loud…not to Sammy, not to Cas
especially not to Cas But. This is familiar. I know this. I can take it…and that big gaping fucking nothing in me welcomes it. Hell is calling for me, calling for my Blade, calling me to cut and slice and torment and wreck and own and spend and twist and destroy and I can do that because that’s what I’m good at. That’s the only fucking thing I’ve ever done right. I can destroy. And I will.
This..this is some fucking bloodlust, man. And it’s calling me back home.
Back to Episode 13