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blue_icy_roseTitle: In Fire
Characters: The Demon, appearances by Mary, John, and Sam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 405
Summary: These were the times that were meant to be savored.
Warnings: If you know about the kids like Sam and the Demon then you're good.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Supernatural. It all belongs to Eric Kripke.
Note: I have no idea where this came from, it just popped into my head last night and wouldn't go away. So I decided to just write it. Feedback's always welcome.
There were other ways to do this, it knew this. Other ways to go after the children besides fire. But fire…fire was everything. It was heat, passion, pain, triumph.
Fire was one of the best weapons to use against humans. For all the heat that it threw off, fire tended to make a human freeze. Just stop and stare and wonder if they were going to make it, if these were their last moments.
Looking down at the baby, at Sam Winchester, it smiled. It could hear the pounding of footsteps as the woman ran back, could practically smell her fear.
These were the times that were meant to be savored. The look of shock on her face as her back hit the wall, of disbelief as she slid toward the ceiling. And there, the panic when she realized that she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight. The terror in her eyes when it turned back towards her son and then slid into the shadows as her husband ran into the room.
It smiled as her blood seeped through her nightgown, dripping onto the crib and drawing the man’s attention to the ceiling. Laughter too low to be heard echoed in the room at his shock, the grief, the pain that ripped through the man as fire exploded into the room even as he cried out for his wife. It watched as the man froze (how typical) and then looked on in interest as he got his child out of the room. Not many humans remembered to move on their own. It usually took the child crying because of the smoke or heat to get them moving and sometimes, that was just too late.
Now it watched as the man ran back in the room, determined to get to his wife and it smiled, taking pleasure in the way the fire flared and seemed to reach for the man, causing him to fall back.
This was the best time. It wasn’t the destruction that came after, though that was always good for a laugh, no it was the way the fire flared bright and hot for that first minute or two. The way it seared everything and left its mark on the lives of the survivors so they’d be utterly changed for the rest of their short lives. Such entertainment just couldn’t be ignored.
Yes, fire was its favorite method of going after these special children.
Characters: The Demon, appearances by Mary, John, and Sam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 405
Summary: These were the times that were meant to be savored.
Warnings: If you know about the kids like Sam and the Demon then you're good.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Supernatural. It all belongs to Eric Kripke.
Note: I have no idea where this came from, it just popped into my head last night and wouldn't go away. So I decided to just write it. Feedback's always welcome.
There were other ways to do this, it knew this. Other ways to go after the children besides fire. But fire…fire was everything. It was heat, passion, pain, triumph.
Fire was one of the best weapons to use against humans. For all the heat that it threw off, fire tended to make a human freeze. Just stop and stare and wonder if they were going to make it, if these were their last moments.
Looking down at the baby, at Sam Winchester, it smiled. It could hear the pounding of footsteps as the woman ran back, could practically smell her fear.
These were the times that were meant to be savored. The look of shock on her face as her back hit the wall, of disbelief as she slid toward the ceiling. And there, the panic when she realized that she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight. The terror in her eyes when it turned back towards her son and then slid into the shadows as her husband ran into the room.
It smiled as her blood seeped through her nightgown, dripping onto the crib and drawing the man’s attention to the ceiling. Laughter too low to be heard echoed in the room at his shock, the grief, the pain that ripped through the man as fire exploded into the room even as he cried out for his wife. It watched as the man froze (how typical) and then looked on in interest as he got his child out of the room. Not many humans remembered to move on their own. It usually took the child crying because of the smoke or heat to get them moving and sometimes, that was just too late.
Now it watched as the man ran back in the room, determined to get to his wife and it smiled, taking pleasure in the way the fire flared and seemed to reach for the man, causing him to fall back.
This was the best time. It wasn’t the destruction that came after, though that was always good for a laugh, no it was the way the fire flared bright and hot for that first minute or two. The way it seared everything and left its mark on the lives of the survivors so they’d be utterly changed for the rest of their short lives. Such entertainment just couldn’t be ignored.
Yes, fire was its favorite method of going after these special children.
