Chapter 1: Disorientation and Dry Blood

Sam's eyes twitched, and slowly opened only to see a dark room. He could feel his body chained to a cold, steel chair and his mouth was taped shut. Sam blinked a couple of times but couldn't see anything. Thinking he was in a dream, he tried shutting his eyes and shaking his head wildly. He then opened his eyes again. Still pitch black. He thought. Suddenly, the lights went on. They were as bright as the afternoon sun, if not brighter. Sam winced, and blinked a couple of times, trying to get his eyes to focus. Where the hell am I? He carefully examined the area. Dry blood covered the walls and the floor. Sam felt disgusted at the sight, and looked down at his knees. How did I get here? He looked up again, and then heard a loud sound blasting in the enclosed space. It bounced off the walls disturbing his ear drums. This voice coughed. "Well, looks like you're awake." It said. Sam looked around, and saw a small speaker box hanging from the left corner of the ceiling. He wondered how a tiny thing like that could produce such massive sound. "You'll be staying here for a while." The menacing voice laughed. Sam wanted to speak, scream, anything. But the grey piece of duck tape, stretched from one side of his face to the other, prevented him from making much of any sound. "Your brother doesn't know where you are, nor does anyone else. You're stuck here until I let you go. That is, if I let you go." The speakers screeched after the last couple words. Sam grimaced at the horrid sound.

Then, there was pure silence. Nothing else was said. Sam tried looking behind his shoulder. How could someone put me in such a place like this? He turned his head a little more, his eyes moving to the very corner of his sockets. Sam caught a glimpse of a barred square on the ground. Then he turned his head back, facing to the front of the room. That could be a way to get out. Sam tried struggling out of the chains but it was no use. They were too tough. He tried and tried until he became exhausted. I can't… Sam shut his eyes and breathed in and out silently.

A noise echoed through the room. Sounds like the bars. Sam heard a man's grunts, struggling to get up. "Ah, finally! I need to put a ladder there or something." He said. Sam's body went stiff. It's him. He heard footsteps getting closer to him. "Sammy boy. There you are." The man circled Sam until he was standing in front of him. Sam could feel his cheeks heating up, and glared at the man. "What's wrong? Do I scare you Sammy?" The man held a knife up to Sam's eye and waved it back and forth. He watched Sam's eyes follow it cautiously. The man stopped, and lowered the knife to his side. "I can tell you have fear in your eyes Sam. Don't be afraid. I won't do anything…yet." The man's eyes seemed faded yet distinct, like he wasn't human. Sam's brow furrowed at the thought: What is this guy? The man went right up into Sam's face, and looked into his eyes. Sam didn't make eye contact, but observed what he was wearing. He has black shaggy hair, faded-looking dark blue eyes, deathly pale, jeans, and a T? Sam seemed confused about this whole thing. He wasn't anything like what Sam and Dean had faced before. The man pulled his face back, and turned around quickly. "Sam, I've brought you hear for a reason. I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're wondering." Sam let out a silent sigh, but a wandering thought still lingered in his head: What did he want me for then? "I want you here because…" The man paused, and turned around. "I need you to follow me Sam. I need you to be my servant and kill off human kind." Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. Kill off human kind? What is he talking about?! "Oh. Don't be so surprised Sam. You won't even remember a thing once it's all done." Sam gulped silently, wondering what this thing was plotting to do. The man pulled out a syringe from his back pocketed, filled with a clear liquid. "Just sit back, this won't hurt at all." Sam tried to break loose again, already knowing in the back of his mind that he wouldn't be able to. The man walked up, lifted Sam's sleeve up to his mid bicep, and stuck the syringe in. Sam was still trying to struggle, but then he suddenly felt weak. His eyes started to lose focus. What…what's going… Losing consciousness, he didn't have time to finish his thought. Sam's head lolled to the side, his eyes shut.