A quick note: There is some disturbing content in the way of blood and gore. Plus a little bit of bad language. Vague spoilers for end of season 5.



- When nightmares end, you are left with only reality. The Winchesters' revisit Hell. -

It was Hell... bona fide Hell with a capital H.

Chains attached to large hooks ripped through my skin, piercing the flesh and threading through nerves and tendons, sending waves of pain rippling through my body. Blood spilled from the massive gouges in my flesh, coating the pale skin with crimson. I could feel my life liquid flowing from my mouth as I screamed.

I screamed for my brother, my father and my mother. I yelled, pleaded and cried, hoping for a reprise from the blinding pain that was gripping me tight. Blood continued to fill my throat and gush out of my mouth, choking me and causing my screams to become half gasps for air. All I could think of was getting out of this nightmare.


I could hear words coming from somewhere. Maybe somewhere close or maybe they were in my head. A ghastly tune of horrific tendencies, words of death and destruction; words of what they were going to do to me, what I was going to do to myself – words of my worst nightmare.

"Dragged ya down below, down to the devil's show. To be his guest forever... Hate to twist your mind, but God ain't on your side. An old acquaintance severed, burn the world your last endeavour."

There was a flash of blinding blood red light and then I was standing before a room made of human bones. I was gasping for breath, could still taste the copper flavour of blood in my mouth. I could hear the screams coming from all around – above, below, from all sides; they were everywhere. I looked down at my body and had to touch my flesh as the incredulous sight of unmarred skin met my eyes. The gaping holes where large, silver-coloured hooks had pierced me were gone, leaving clean, white skin in their place.

The room before me was suspended by the same hooks and chains that had until recently held me. Flashes of light rippled through the cavern and as I looked down, I saw that I was standing on nothing... I saw the glints of millions of chains below me, and when I looked up I could see millions above me too.

Something hit me with a small splash on my shoulder and I turned my head and gagged as I saw a piece of bloodied flesh covered in someone's crimson blood sitting atop my shoulder. I closed my eyes tight, wishing for the nightmare to end. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer standing before the bone room, but inside it.

Before me, along the farthest away wall were steel bars. They ran the length of the wall, held in place by skeletal hands pushing out from the wall and gripping them tight. What seemed like an ocean of blood and gore coated the bone-made floor below the bars.

"Flesh is burning. You can smell it in the air. 'Cause men like you have such an easy soul to steal..."

The words repeated over and over again inside my head and all around, mingling with the screams and pleas for help from countless lost souls being tortured for eternity. Then, with a sudden finality, the whispers stopped and another voice appeared.


I turned, trying to squash the fear rising inside. Standing before me was what looked like a human man. Everything about him looked normal, except for when he rolled his eyes into the back of his head and revealed pure white orbs.

The man/demon looked at me once his eyes had returned to normal and then there was such a pain seizing me that I screamed again as my body spasmed, like one thousand volts of electricity were flowing through me. I clenched my eyes closed, trying to fight off the pain as I gasped.

The next thing I knew, I was flying backwards and slammed into the bars along the back wall. As soon as my body hit the cold metal bars, my arms shot above my head and more skeletal hands rushed out of the wall, gripping onto my wrists and ankles, holding me in place. As I stared, the hands started to sink into my flesh and merged with the bone, creating a symphony of flesh and bone.

"So stand in line, while they ink numbers in your head. You're now a slave until the end of time here. Nothing stops the madness turning, haunting, yearning..."

And then the man was once again standing in front of me. His white eyes boring into mine and he cocked his head to the side, a twisted grin appearing on his face and morphing what looked like human features into something unnatural – something demonic.

"My name is Alistair, but you may call me Master if you wish."



I gasped as it assaulted me like a freight train hitting a car stalled on the tracks. I couldn't breathe through the pain and when I was finally able to open my eyes (I hadn't realised that I had closed them), I was greeted with the sight of Alistair's hand buried deep within my stomach, his hands gripping my intestines and twisting.

I lost track of how long his hands were playing with my insides, instead I focused on trying to keep the pain at bay for unconsciousness was something I was not going to be blessed with. I coughed, once again tasting the flavour of my own blood coating my throat and mouth as it slipped through my lips and fell down my chin.

"Ssstop..." I moaned as he gave a painful yank on what I figured was my large intestine. My pleas fell on deaf ears as Alistair ripped his hand out of my stomach, intestines still in his grip. Throwing them aside, he reached up and before I knew what had happened, a burning slice erupted across my throat and everything darkened to black.

"Can't wake up and sweat, 'cause it ain't over yet. Still dancin' with your demons. Victim of your own creation."

I gasped awake as the whispers started to echo in my mind. Lifting my head I looked up to see Alistair's grinning face staring back at me. I could still hear screams and glancing sideways, I saw countless other people held against the bars, some demon or another torturing them to the point of a painful and lengthy death.

"I give you an ultimatum, Dean Winchester," Alistair spoke. "To get off this rack, you must instead take my place."

Did he mean what I thought he did? The only way to get off the rack was to torture? Glaring, I replied as I struggled against the hold of the skeletal hands, wincing as once again pain flashed through my wrists and ankles.

"Go fuck yourself."

And the torture began again.

Master... you're back...

"And I know you hear their voices, calling from above. And I know they may seem real, these signals of love. But our life's made up of choices, some without appeal. They took for granted your soul, and it's ours now to steal. As your nightmare comes to life.

Amongst the whispers of torture and death, I could hear my family speaking to me. My long dead mother singing lullabies as she rocked me to sleep; my father humming along to Led Zepplin as we travelled down another endless road in the fringes of America; and my brother, saying how everything was going to be okay – that we would be okay. And then the throaty whispers would come along and rip the voices away from me and I would be left with nothing by pain and despair.

Days, weeks, months, years passed. I don't know how long I remained merged with the rack, having my body ravaged in every which way. I had limbs ripped off, intestines removed and strangled with them, blood loss, beheading and twisted inside out. I died every way you could imagine and every single one was bloody and painful.

"There is an ultimatum, Dean Winchester. Do you accept?"


And then the pain was gone.

"You should have known, the price of evil. And it hurts to know that you belong here. No one to call, everybody to fear. Your tragic fate is looking so clear... It's your fucking nightmare."

I slashed and diced and messed with an eternity of souls.

And I belonged.

Welcome back, Master...

Sam Winchester gasped and shot up, breathing hard as his heart pounded with fear. Was that what his brother had experienced while he was in Hell? If so, how in the world had he just dreamed about it?

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, the young hunter slipped his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up only to stop and stare in horror.

Before him was a room made of human bones, and in the centre was a throne carved of the same pristine white coloured substance, a crown of human skulls sitting on the seat, awaiting a king to place it upon his head.

"Welcome home Master..."

And Sam screamed.


Authors note: This is my first fic under my new penname. It's a dark piece of writing, but I hope someone enjoyed it all the same. Please leave some feedback. Also, I was wondering if it should really be an M fic, or is it fine at just a T? Thank you.