So, this is it... the first round. I'm totally excited about this new project and what an awesome scene I got! Blue Peanut M and M just gave me those words and at first I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep it at her level of skills. I'm still not... but I did my best and well, I want you all to enjoy... and I just hope I managed to do that. So... enjoy!
The other players are: darksupernatural, Soncnica, Merisha, Vonnie836, V.R. Jennings, Blue Peanut M and M, Sammygirl1963 and DancerInTheDark101.
All future stories can be found at darksupernatural's profile. Thanks for doing this for us *hugs*
She stood over the prone, bloody form, looking down at him with blazing eyes, her breath coming in harsh, fast gasps . He would never betray her ever again, licking the blood from her lips she let the axe fall to the ground with a clatter. Something deep down within her stirred, awakened by the coppery taste in her mouth. As if in trance, she knelt beside the corpse of her husband, her head bending further, her eyes meeting his vacant stare, as she lapped at the blood running down his destroyed face... the crimson warmth running down her throat, and she felt it breaking free at the taste of blood. Her hands suddenly clawing at his chest, not fast enough in open new wounds, devouring flesh and blood stilling her ravenous hunger...
Awareness came back to him in jumbled litany of fear, pain and confusion. He could tell that he was moving, but not of his own accord. The cloying desert heat combined with the arid dust that rose with each jerky, uneven pull of his prone body, making breathing a chore, a task that only added fuel to the fire as his fear and confusion intensified, and he began to squirm and fight the pull, magnifying the particles that rose and creating a vicious cycle of discomfort that had no ending in sight.
He could feel talon like digits clamping cruelly into the tender flesh of his calf, creating tears in the skin and muscle, rich crimson rivulets slowly tickling the hairs as they trailed down his leg, only to be replaced by a sudden starting numbness. His breath hitched at the loss of feeling in his leg and he attempted to raise and twist a head that felt swollen and sluggish. He blinked against the dry and sandy air, willing his eyes to clear so that he could see his captor; bile rising in his throat, and a desperate need to escape overwhelming him as his vision cleared and the beasts true nature was revealed.
Blistering pain exploded through his fingertips as he clawed and scrabbled at the dust covered rocky floor, the skin stripping bare exposing the raw, new flesh beneath. His nails raked over the surface as he struggled and fought to gain purchase, bending back at times to increase the agony the unsuccessful effort was causing him. As the beasts hold continued to drag him along, never breaking a stride, he lowered his head despondently, defeat evident in his eyes, and prayed that his brother would reach him in time.
"So, a Dog-what?" Dean asked muffled through his mouthful of Burger.
"Dude! Manners!" Sam hissed annoyed, "And it's Dogai!" he corrected.
"Sounds like a Chinese dish!" Dean ignored Sam's plea on his manners and continued to speak with a full mouth. Finally swallowing down, he took a swig of his beer and then continued the conversation: "So, what's it?"
Sam glared at him. "There are different descriptions about WHAT a Dogai is, but the most reliable source described HER as a talon-clad, dark-skinned, haggard beast, feeding of blood and flesh. She prefers men, but when food is rare, she also takes on children or women. Like a Wendigo she prefers dark and wet places for her lair, which is odd, because we're in Arizona and there is just no place dark and wet. It's desert-land, but still, with the description and the MO it would be my first guess."
"Why now?" Dean asked.
"What?" Sam looked at him.
"Why did she - it start killing now?"
"That's the thing... I first thought maybe it's another similarity to the Wendigo and she rests for a amount of time, stores her... food... But I couldn't find anything in the past. I checked the adjoining states. Dead-end too. It's just an idea, but all I know is, that it started with GeoffryAdams. And he wasn't found in the desert. He was found at his home. Mutilated. The autopsy report says he died of trauma resulting fromhis bashed in skull…" Sam informed. "They think his wife did it, his now disappearedwife. What they couldn't explain were the claw-marks and the missing... uhm... parts of his body."
"You really think it's the wife, don'tcha?" Dean grinned.
"Jeeze, Dean. The wounds inflicted on him, don't match any known animal... It's just a theory yet, but if Dogai's are related to Wendigo's, they may have been human once too." Seeing Dean's raised eyebrows he continued. "Geoffry Adams was known as the biggest womanizer in this part of Arizona. What if she killed him and started feeding on him? And now she's turned - or - turns slowly into a Dogai?"
"We'll kill her. Of course only if you would finally get to the part where you tell me how to kill the bitch."
Sam took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly and swallowing, before taking a sip of his own drink.
"SAM?" Dean's exasperated voice broke the silence impatiently.
"Patience, big brother. Patience!"
The next time he became aware, the heat was gone and replaced by cool and damp air. For a moment he thought he was saved, but the pain in his wrists and shoulders that flared up at his very first movement told him otherwise. He was bound, hands high above his head, almost his whole weight pulling on his shoulders as his feet just barely touched the ground. His left leg was numb up to his hip, while he could feel the cold floor on the toes of his right foot. His shoes were gone...
This forced his eyes open and he was confronted with a darkness so corporeal he choked on it. Flashes of memories of the last few hours came back to him, sending chills down his spine and he felt the panic rise again, his breath starting to come in fast little gasps. Calm down! His brain shot commands at him he couldn't obey. Dean!
He could only remember snippets of what had happened, why he was here, what had him. One of this snippets was of his brother on the ground. He had so hoped that Dean would get to him in time... Gawd... he felt his heavy head fall forward, while his breathing quickened even more, his blood rushing through his veins, almost deafening him. Just before he passed out again, something behind him rustled.
Dean... A small spark of hope flared again as he could dimly feel the presence of someone else in the room.
Hard hands grabbed him, ripping and removing his shirt without care. He started to struggle with all his remaining strength, but it ended in a shocked and pained cry as a sharp talon was dragged down lazily from his collar-bone to the end of his sternum.
His breath hitched and his jaw quivered in fright and disgust as a cold, wet tongue licked away the blood and replaced the initialling pain of being cut to a new level of agony. He felt the Dogai's saliva burn him like acid. He bit down hard, drawing blood from his lower lip, keeping himself from crying out, but another lap on his wound and he couldn't suppress the pain filled scream. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing as he felt her claws holding onto his waist as she continued to move her tongue over the mark, until he slumped forward, spent... Dean... please! God, help me!
He first felt the pain in his back, where something pointy digged into it, the strained muscles of his shoulders protesting as he rolled on his side and he coughed, starting to gag at all the desert-dust he had breathed in.
He didn't know what hurt most as he lay on the ground, eyes scrunched close. He felt dry, hot, shaky and somehow his right side, where that bitch had hit him felt oddly numb.
Suddenly he was fully alert. Fighting himself into a sitting position. The first try to call out his brother's name was futile, nothing more then a gasp. He coughed again, trying to clear his irritated throat.
"S'mmy!" he rasped, turning to all fours, blinking his eyes open despite the harsh sun-light, searching for his brother.
"Sammy!" his voice carried the name away loud and clear with a slight notch of panic and worry, on his third try.
Silence met him and Dean swallowed hard. He had heard Sam scream a warning, right before being tackled and then...
The pain in his side was intense as he felt airborne from the force and landed hard, hitting a pointy stone on the rocky ground, robbing him off his breath and causing him to feeldetached fighting for his consciousness, fighting to get back on his feet again. Sam! He had to help...
His head rolled away from the noise of his brother screaming as he felt the pain in his side turn into a numb throbbing his awareness fading with it.
He drifted, wasn't really conscious anymore but awake enough to listen to her scuffle away... away... away with Sam, his little brother... then everything around him blackenedout... Sam...
He was so cold... huge shudders let the joints in his shoulders scream. He could feel blood running down from his wrists, tickling him on the way, first his armpits, then his sides. His chest felt oddly numb now, but he knew the claw-mark still bled. He could feel it gathering at the waistband of his jeans, making the denim heavy and sticky with soaked up, coagulated blood.
Another shudder let him groan. His teeth chattering but he froze as he heard yet another noise in the cave. She was still around. Here in the everlasting darkness. He flinched as talon-clad hands touched his bare back, breath catching in his throat again and all the terror he felt in not being able to see his attacker went a notch higher as he felt her breath on his neck, her tongue on the tender flesh of his shoulder... and she bit down hard sending his nerve-ends into a burning agony and he screamed again.
"Soon…" her voice nothing more then a croak with vocal-cords not made to talk anymore.
Tracking... he was good at it. He had learned early how to read a track. His father had made sure of that.
He was exhausted, his back was hurting permanently, his side still numb from the poison in her talons, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He bent over and coughed, trying to get the ever-present dust and sand out of his lungs. His eyes burned steadily and by now he hadn't enough fluids left to get rid of the small sand-corns irritating them.
A dizzy-spell caused him to sway and suddenly he found himself looking up at the burning sun and the dirty sky.
"Wow…" he breathed, staying there for a moment, taking deep breaths and ignoring the tickling in his throat.
Suddenly he jerked awake again. Shit!Had he fallen asleep in the middle of the desert, without protection against the merciless sun? Chastising himself he fought his way into a sitting position wavering heavily for a moment. He recognized that he wasn't sweatinganymore, his sight blurry and his eyes hurting from the dryness. As he cringed he could feel the tautness of the skin on his face. He needed to get out of the frigging sun.
Struggling to his feet proved to be a lot more difficult then the last time. He stumbled forward, hissing as the gentle throb in his side suddenly was peaking, and looked down at his injury. It didn't bleed anymore, the gashes for now congealed, dry blood coating the right side of his torso and ripped shirt.
Tiredly he continued to follow the trail of blood, and dragging-marks, feeling his strength wane with every step he forced his body forward.
She had gone some time ago, leaving him alone with his fears.
The shudders rippling through him continuously and he no longer could stand on his own accord, all of his weight pulling on his shoulders, the blood from his wrists a steady trickle now.
His thoughts were all jumbled, as to where he was and what had happened, but one of those thoughts stood in front of all others. Why hadn't Dean come? He fought his head from his chest again at the thought. Why hadn't Dean come?
Somewhere nearby he could hear water dripping, and this triggered another need in him. Water! Thirst! He needed water! But then, in the everlasting darkness surrounding him, images assaulted him. Pictures of Dean, blood running down from his brother's cut throat, and it was Dean's blood dripping to the caves ground... it was Dean's blood. A small, brokenly sob escaped him, as his mind came up with more cruel pictures, torturing him. He gagged, bitter bile suddenly filling his mouth, and retched, not able to control the sudden spasms, letting his stomach clench. Spent and exhausted his head dropped forward again, as he continued to listen to the dropping blood... Deans blood... Gawd... Dean...
The sun slowly lost its strength, he could feel the heat of the day retreating, as the shadows grew longer. Night would be closing in on him soon. He stumbled for the umpteenth time and just didn't have the strength to stay on his feet. Again he hit the sandy ground, eating dust. His throat was so sore and raw from coughing he was sure he wouldn't be able to talk for days. Defeated for a moment he let his head hang, his forehead touching the hot ground.
"Please! Help me!" He went rigid. "Dean…" He heard the whispered words and craved to listen to them, fighting to raise his head.
A few yards away, Sammy stood, both his arms raised in a greeting, his figure wavering in the heat.
"Sammy…" Dean whispered, the word causing another coughing-fit and a dry sob. He staggered to his feet starting forward again.
"Dean…" Dean stopped dead as the figure of his brother vanished with his name on his lips.
Choking Dean crashed to his knees again. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! His mind screamed at him. How could he just - for one second - believe his brother would stay there... waiting for him.
His self-loathing fuelled him with energy again, as he pushed to his feet.
He wouldn't let the bitch kill his brother. He knew Sam was alive. And as long as one breath was left in Sam, Dean wouldn't give up, not on Sam and not to the heat.
No longer was she able to spend any time in the agonizing brightness daylight brought. She wasn't Alicia Adams, the wife, the woman, the weak human anymore. She was reborn. Reborn on the night she had slaughtered her husband. On the night she had renounced humanity.
Soon... she caressed the cold and clammy skin under her rough fingertips. Soon he'd be gone enough to be hers... soon...
His tired and sore eyes looked up at the rock-formation. Sonuvabitch... he swore wordlessly, his voice too weak. Slowly he started the exhausting hike up the steep slope.
A few minutes later he stopped at the entrance of the cave, where the trail he'd followed the last couple of hours stopped abruptly.
As he opened his eyes again, he could see the red, dancing light of a lonely torch, and a bizarre face right in front of him. He shrank back, at the inhuman features and heard her hiss in annoyance.
She had eyes like crystals, clear and silvery, her dark-grey skin dotted with brownish blotches. Only the curves of her body reminded of her former humanity.
She raised her claws, letting him flinch and try to move away from her, but his whole body was numb, so he whimpered in fear as her rough fingertips touched him again.
"Now…" Her raspy voice echoed through the cave as she raised her claws shivering in barely contained pleasure.
Sam screamed weakly and scrunched his eyes close at the same moment as a gun-shot ripped through the cave and deafened out every other noise.
She felt a sharp, burning pain biting her skin, her arm suddenly useless. She turned around to see the one she thought she had killed.
Roaring in rage she advanced. She knew he couldn't see her. She was too fast for the human eye.
Before he knew it she had grabbed him by the collar of his tattered shirt and tossed him through the air, deeper into her home. He landed hard at the feet of the other one. But she had underestimated him.
She never thought a human could react that fast.
Already he was on his feet, lunging for his dislodged gun. She shrieked at him in anger and attacked again. She barrelled into him at the same moment his hands closed around the gun's stock, her razor-sharp talons digging deep into his left shoulder drawing blood.
Dean felt her claw piercing his shoulder, a pained wheeze escaping his throat, as he reacted on instinct and head-butted her. There were only seconds before he wouldn't be able to fight he knew, as he struggled to sit up, moaning at the pain and the already spreading numbness. He raised his gun as she moved in on him again, her body on top of his as she wrestled him down. He could feel her hot breath on his face as her mouth opened to reveal two rows of pointy sharp teeth. Her eyes, dark from fury bore into him, letting him forget to breathe. Just shoot her... his befuddled mind suddenly screamed at him and he pulled the trigger – twice. Tabbing her once in the chest and once in the head.
Sam whimpered, as two more gun-shots rang, something wet hitting the naked skin of his chest.
She shrieked, as the rounds hit her, jerking back and away from him and the pain, as a blue fire engulfed her from deep within. She crashed only a few feet away from Dean as he tried feebly to scramble backwards, to gain some purchase between him and her writhing, burning form, but his body failed him, as he simply collapsed, his hand on his injured shoulder, giving in to the mix of exhaustion and her paralyzing venom... not able to help his brother... not able... Sammy...
Silence settled once again in the cave, only the crackling and the heat of the fire remained.
The first thing his subconscious noticed was the dripping of water, followed by the feeling of a hard ground beneath him. He hurt, and he wanted nothing more then to succumb to the darkness he drifted in, but he knew it was more then his life in the balance. So he forced his hurting eyes open, looking around the semi-darkness as he tried to remember where he was, who needed his help. Memories rushed back as he could smell the acrid stench of burned flesh.
He tried to push himself into a sitting position, wincing as the movement jarred his hurt side. He almost crashed to the floor again, his right arm still numb and useless. "Sonuva…" his curse wasn't more then a weak croak as he tried to speak. He fought himself to his feet one handed and precariously started to stumble over to Sam.
Stopping in front of his brother Dean was lost for a moment, looking at the raw and rope burned wrists, the blood splatters and cuts on Sam's chest and the vicious looking bite on Sam's shoulder. Sam was limp, his whole weight lying on his shoulder-joints. It would be incredibly painful, Dean knew from past experiences.
Swallowing dry Dean raised his left, functioning hand, touching Sam's cheek.
The reaction he got was intense. Although not fully aware Sam jerked heavily, groaning in pain as the sudden movement jarred his abused shoulders. Dull eyes blinked open, looking at him.
Dean saw the parched lips, the dried blood marring Sam's face as he lifted his head.
"S'mmy…" he whispered and felt his brother relax into the touch. Dean wanted to say more to soothe him, tell him he would cut him down, tell Sam to just let him handle everything… but his already swollen throat threatened to close up completely at the pain he could read in Sam's blood-marred face.
"Dead…" Sam's hollow voice whispered, his head slowly falling to his chest again.
Taking a deep breath he stepped up to Sam, his chest touching his brother's cold and clammy skin, as he lifted his good arm that now held his pocket-knife and cut through the rope.
For a second time that day he found himself flat on his back, this time with a heavy weight pressing him down. Sam whimpered something incoherently, as Dean tried to catch his breath. He could feel the scratches on his side had reopened.
Coughing and panting he again heard the soft dripping sound of the water, nearby.
Stubbornly he worked himself into a sitting position, moving his right, weak arm around Sam's midsection and used his good arm to drag him and Sam towards the dripping water.
"'most there…" he forced out between heavy breathing and soon enough he felt the wetness under his fingertips. Leaning against the rough rock of the caves wall he pulled Sam up, letting him rest against his chest, feeling his own heart hammering hard against his brother's back. It wasn't more then a slow trickle, but it was water, nonetheless. Dean held his cupped hand out, catching the drops. He shifted Sam around to have better access to his brother's face and slowly to not spill any of the precious good he carried, he held it to Sam's mouth. As soon as the water touched Sam's lips his brother's mouth opened and Dean tilted his hand feeding his brother. He repeated the procedure a few times, grinning in relieve as Sam's eyes fluttered open, one arm came up to weakly push at his hand.
"You…" Sam's rough voice whispered. And this was all Dean needed to hear. Seconds passed as he greedily drank the small amounts of water he could catch with his hand.
"Slowly..." Sam's weak voice and a hand on his slowed him down.
Eventually Dean stopped, looking at his brother's shivering form, eyes drooping already. He could feel Sam relaxing into him, his weight heavy against his chest again and felt himself relax in return, his arms circling around his brother's midsection, trying to provide some warmth, his head tilting forward resting on Sam's uninjured shoulder. The light of the torch growing paler and paler as time moved on, blanketing the sleeping brother's in darkness.
A few days later...
Dean yawned and stretched like a cat, stopping dead as he recognized the sound that had woken him from his slumber.
Kicking his blankets back he sat up and placed his naked feet on the carpeted motel-room floor.
Another nightmare. Pushing to his feet he walked the few steps over to his brother's bed, sitting down on the edge. It was just the brink of dawn, Dean could see pale pink light through the small slit of the curtains. Sam's whimpering let him return his attention back to his little brother.
"Sam…" He whispered gently, his hands dropping on his siblings shoulders to shake him awake.
He could hear the blood drip in the darkness. His brother's blood. Dean hadn't come. She had killed Dean and no one would savehim. He whimpered as he felt her presence in the cave, almost able to feel her hot breath again. Then, in the next moment she was all over him, her hands on his shoulders, pinching hard... blood, he could still hear it dripping down, her breathing in his ear.
"Sammy…" He jerked against her hold. "Sammy... Sammy?"
Dean was surprised as Sam's arms shot up and wrapped around him, holding him in a tight, strangling, desperate embrace.
He felt his brother's fast breath on his neck as Sam continued to hold on as if his life depended on this connection.
Slowly Dean's arms came up, wrapping around Sam's form, returning the hug, gently. One hand starting to go up and down his brother's back in a soothing motion.
"Everything's okay, Sam. I gottcha, I gottcha…"