|Samantha Winchester does not eat murdered animals (tofubacon) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2012-03-01 16:29:00
|Entry tags:||samantha winchester|
Who: Samantha Winchester and NPC attacker
Where: Alley behind the complex, then juuuuust outside the wards
Status: Narrative, complete
Sammy hesitated in the doorway to the alleyway, fingers gripping the slick plastic of the trash bag she held in her left hand, spoils of the full trashcan she’d encountered when she’d headed down to the community kitchen to get the leftover tofu bacon out of the freezer. It’s still inside the wards, she reminded herself, eyeing the dumpsters, it’s only a second. You also only have a second before half the Winchester family comes charging down here so…
Her family had been jumpy since Meg had started making threats (“About you, specifically.” her father had said, and she’d read the words on the street, glowing up at her from her phone as she’d walked back from the corner store, and for the first time she could remember the shadows in the night of the city where she’d been born and raised were menacing instead of merely unknown). Since then the air in the Winchester apartment had been helping her understand the cliché “the tension was thick enough that it could have been cut by a knife.” Her father paced the living room, Ben crowded her on the couch and held the remote over his head like they were kids again, annoying her like he always did when he was worried, until her mother snapped at them to separate. It had only gotten worse once the babies had been taken that morning. They’re being nice, she reminded herself now as she scanned the alleyway, charted her route from door to dumpster and back again, a journey of steps, of seconds, that she should have been done with by now. They’re trying to reassure me, not scare me.
She slid one foot out of the door, then looked over her shoulder, back to where she could see the glow of light from the newly-repaired kitchen (it was helpful, in this particular apartment complex, to have people with superhuman strength and the power of gods). At least I didn’t tell Jacob why he had to pick me up the other night. Possibly the only thing that could make me more nervous right now would be him literally hovering behind me, she thought, smiling a little to herself. The thought also served to remind her that Jacob was literally a shout away, and also that if either he or the other, more angelically gifted, member of their little group were here to see her now they’d tease her mercilessly about being afraid to walk outside, into a completely safe area.
“Right,” she whispered, and stepped over the threshold, leaving the door open behind her.
Once it was done she felt better, felt silly for having been scared in the first place. She even felt secure enough to pause once she reached the dumpster and peer inside the bag she held to make sure no one had forgotten to separate out any recycling. Sure enough, at the bottom of the bag, she saw a Coke can. Ugh, seriously, she thought, scrunching up her face and rolling up her sleeves as she prepared to dig down to the bottom of the bag what good is saving the world if you just destroy it with pollution anyway? The sound of a baby, or more than one judging from the differing sounds, crying was just another annoying distraction, grating on her nerves as she prepared to reach into the bag full of trash because some people -- wait. She froze and jerked her head towards the sound of the crying. Just within her line of vision, around the corner of the alley, she could see the edge of what looked like a car seat.
Later she would see how obvious this all had been. The trap set just outside the wards, the babies she could hear, but couldn’t see. At the moment, however, all she could think of was Jo’s frantic post, of the bodies that had been left on the steps, in the lobby, how it wasn’t such a stretch to believe that the demons and other evil of this world had just found a new favorite dumping ground. She tucked her hand into her pocket, found her knife, and jogged down the alleyway, skidding around the corner and-
The first blow was a punch to the stomach that knocked the wind out of her so thoroughly that she couldn’t even think of screaming or fighting back, could only stagger backwards, feet scrabbling at the suddenly tilting earth beneath them. Before she could recover she was dragged off, away from the range of the security cameras, into the shadow of a neighboring building’s porch. In the shadows, it looked like the demon who held her, pinned against the wall, while the other demon retrieved the tape recorder and empty car seat, had no eyes at all. His face was like a mask with nothing behind it, the inky black of his eyes melding with the alleyway behind him and it was that, the blackness, the nothing that shocked the breath back into her lungs. She jerked her arm up, swinging the knife, but her blow went wide as the demon changed his grip suddenly so that his hands were around her throat. No she thought, frantically working her lips, trying to get a sound, even a squeak, past the bruising grip, oh God no I have to be able to call I have to- she swung the knife again and connected, felt the blade sink into the demon’s side, but his grip didn’t ease. Her vision was going blurry fast, her hands opening and closing on nothing (they’d slipped off the hilt of the knife, still buried in the demon’s side but she couldn’t seem to accept it, accept that she was fading fast and that in another moment…) and then, dimly, she heard the demon speak for the first time.
“I think that about does it. Bruised her throat enough there’s no way she’s doing more than hiss air, much less scream.” An impatient sound from the other demon and then, “Just knock her the fuck out and let’s get going then. I don’t like cutting it this close.”
There was a sharp knock of her head against the wall, a bloom of pain at the back of her skull, and then nothing at all.