Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural... I just wish I did!

Bit of a random idea, but it won't go away which means I have no choice but to put it up and see what people think. I'm not exactly sure where this story will be going, but I suppose we'll find out. :) I should warn you that the violence and torture starts right now, so if you don't like that kind of thing I suggest you don't read this story! Set somewhere in season 3, obviously before Gordon dies.

Hell on Earth took its form in a damp, dank basement. Flickering lights sent demonic shadows dancing over the walls, and the very air seemed to drip with fear and despair. Water ran down the walls from a leak somewhere higher up in the building. The smell of blood and sweat hung over everything like a curse.

In short, it was the last place anyone wanted to be.

Amy rose from her position in the corner and stepped forwards as the door at the top of the stone steps swung open and Gordon Walker appeared, a plastic carrier bag swinging from one hand. He made his way down the steps, taking his time, the flickering light dancing off his dark sunglasses. As he reached the bottom he offered Amy a small nod of acknowledgement before sweeping his eyes around the basement. It was large and square, with a work surface spreading along one wall complete with an assortment of weapons. A device remarkably like a dentist's chair stood in the centre of the room, a small table standing beside it and a large light above. The chair was currently occupied by a young, bloodstained vampire who was staring blindly at the ceiling.

"Wasn't expecting you back so soon," Amy murmured as Gordon moved over to the work surface and pulled open a drawer. "I thought you were going to call the Winchesters again..."

Her voice trailed off as she watched Gordon pull out a syringe and place it on the counter before retrieving a vial from his bag.

"I was," Gordon said softly. "But why should we give up so quickly?" He shot her a grin. "All systems go."

"Is that...?"

"Dead man's blood," Gordon confirmed. "I added a little silver nitrate, just to be sure."

Amy frowned. Gordon filled the syringe and placed the vial safely in his pocket before taking a silver knife and turning around. He walked leisurely forwards, dropping the syringe onto the small table as he spoke.

"Morning, Opium. Sleep well?"

The vampire flinched and looked up, his eyes focussing wearily on Gordon. His chest heaved in a defeated sigh and he turned his face away.

"That well, hmm?" Gordon flicked the knife between his fingers. Thoughtfully, he lowered the knife and carved a long, deep wound over Opium's arm. The vampire snarled low in his throat, but didn't respond. "Just so you know," Gordon said. "I'm getting impatient. And I just lifted all restrictions."

He crouched down so as to be on Opium's level. Sweat and dried blood covered the vampire's face and his eyes were glassy and dull. Gordon flicked his cheek, and he blinked.

"Now, I'm going to give you one last chance," he said. "If you tell me what I want to know, I will release you. Where is your vampire colony?"


"How many of you are there?"


"Fine. Then where are the Winchester brothers?"


Gordon sighed and rose to his feet. "Very well," he said, his voice falsely resigned. "I try and I try, and yet you refuse to be civil."

He flipped the knife over in his hand and brought it down in the centre of Opium's chest. The vampire hissed and trembled as Gordon deftly cut a pentagram into his torso, adding the symbols within in seconds. He pulled out the vial in his pocket and held it in front of Opium's face.

"You know what this is?"

Opium's pupils shrank in fear, but he said nothing. Gordon smiled.

"Well, then. You shouldn't be surprised."

He tilted the vial and let a few drops spatter over the bloody pentagram. Opium let out a yelp, like a wounded animal, and cringed back in the chair. He strained against the manacles binding him to the metal chair, his whole body bucking and shaking. Gordon paused, allowing him to fall back in the chair.

"Feel like talking?"

Opium bared his pointed teeth, his answer clear. Gordon's eyes narrowed and he tilted the vial again, allowing the solution to slop carelessly out onto the vampire.

Opium screamed.

The chair rattled beneath him as he struggled wildly, his body jerking and shuddering in agony. His skin seemed to shrink on him, black veins standing out like spider webs across his body. His screams filled the room and echoed out into the house above.

Amy's hand closed over Gordon's wrist and pulled him back sharply. Gordon looked up at her, frowning. Amy was pale and trembling, her eyes wide as Opium's screams died in his throat.

"Gordon! We can't–"

"We said we would do whatever it takes."

"But... but this... this is barbaric! This is–"

"This is necessary," Gordon snapped. "If you can't take it, wait outside."

Amy stared at him for a moment. Then she let go and retreated to the wall, her arms folded tightly. Gordon would have ordered her to leave, but a weak moan from below him snatched his attention and he turned away. Opium lay limp in the chair, his chest heaving with sharp, shallow breaths. New blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. Gordon slapped him lightly, and he flinched.

"Tell me what I want to know, and I will stop."

Opium rolled his head to the side and looked Gordon in the face, the whites of his eyes pink with unshed tears. His broken, beaten body shook and his mouth hung open. He made a small noise in the back of his throat. Gordon bent closer.

"Hu... Hu... Hathway St-Street," Opium breathed, his voice trembling and weak.

Gordon smiled. At least one of his questions was answered.

"There," he said, dropping the knife and vial onto the table. "Was that so difficult?"

Opium's eyes slid out of focus, his breathing loud and irregular. Gordon picked up the syringe and reached for the vampire's wrist.

"Gordon, he's had enough–"

"No, he hasn't," Gordon said over his shoulder. "Not until every one of my questions is answered."

He squeezed half of the syringe's contents into the vampire's bloodstream and let the needle fall onto the table. Opium's veins pulsed wildly, pressing against his skin. He turned, dusting off his hands.

"Keep an eye on him," he said.

Then he turned and strode out of the room. The vampire let out a weak moan, struggling to breathe. Amy automatically took a few steps forwards, and then seemed to remember what he was and stopped. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily.

"Look, if you would just tell him what he want's to know-"

Opium didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were squeezed shut in agony. Amy stepped closer, biting her lip. He was by far the most handsome vampire she had seen for a long time - he had jet black hair which hung down over one eye and silvery eyes, almost like a cat. His body was toned and muscular, unlike some of the fat, rude vampires they had encountered in the past drunk on blood. She was right next to him now, looking down at him.

"I wish you would tell him," she said, almost to herself. "These Winchesters are hunters too, aren't they? What possible reason could you have for protecting them?"

His eyes flickered open suddenly, reflecting the light so that they appeared to glow slightly in the darkness. She hesitated as his eyes roved over her face and then stared straight past her at something else. But they weren't unfocused, he was looking at something... before she could even draw breath to gasp, a hand closed over her mouth.

"Its a little something called loyalty," a voice growled in her ear. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Something hard came down on the back of her head and she slumped to the ground, unconscious. Sam Winchester stepped over her lifeless form and looked down at Opium.

"Hey, mate," he said softly. "Don't worry. I'm getting you out of here."

So what do you think? Confusing? I hope so! Please REVIEW!!