Sam Winchester (
likely_evil) wrote2009-11-20 08:52 pm
Entry tags:
In Which there is Blood...
Follows This
I hate you.
Sam was angry. He was very angry and he didn't know what to do with that emotion. It was like a fire in him and he couldn't stay still. He wanted to go into a tree but he couldn't sit still. He wanted to hide in the Impala but Dean would find him. So he just kept walking, not caring where he went but he had to keep moving or he was going to do something he didn't want to do.
"Hey, watch where you're going, G!" A man in an oversized hoodie and low hung jeans shouldered Sam as he walked by, then turned around and yelled at Sam. The two men who were with him turned as well, smirking.
"You watch where you're going. You're the one who hit me," Sam stated over his shoulder, but he kept walking.
"Whoa, hold on a sec. Don't you be disrespecting me, boy." The thug grabbed Sam's shoulder and spun him around to look into his eyes, the gasped at the blackness. "What are you, some kinda freak?"
There was a deep hiss from Sam's throat and his hands clenched into fists. "I'm not a freak," he growled. And then he moved quickly, grabbing the arm on his shoulder and twisting it around. The bone snapped easily as the thug cried out in pain.
The two friends instantly moved to aid the hurt on, but Sam made quick work of them. Fists flew and Sam kept hitting until there were broken bones and blood covering his fists from the faces of his victims.
The rest of the gang appeared from the shadows and Sam just tilted his head. This felt good. It felt right. This is what his angry part wanted to do and he just smirked at the rest of the gang as they surrounded him. His eyes watched the chains and the knives come out of pockets and he just lowered his center and hissed softly.
"Let's show this freak who's boss."
They didn't realize they were going against a demon, and a demonic Winchester at that. They never stood a chance as Sam moved through them like a hot knife through butter. And he was laughing as he took them down. His hand wrapped around a knife at one point and the punching and kicking turned to deadly slicing and stabbing. Soon, Sam was covered in the blood of the gang members as one by one, they fell to his feet struggling for life.
"FREEZE!"
Sam held his arm up to block the bright light of the cop car's spotlight. The police officer had his gun aimed at Sam, but Sam could taste the fear rolling off him. "Drop the Knife!"
"Why would I do that?" Sam asked. He lowered his arm and started for the cop, standing tall.
"DON'T MOVE!"
"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?!" Sam taunted, taking another step closer. He tilted his head, a sick smirk on his lips.
Two gunshots rung out and Sam felt them impact into his chest. He staggered back a few steps but remained upright. His head snapped back to looking at the cop and he snarled. "That wasn't nice."
He took aim and threw the knife, and it embedded itself in the cop's throat. Before the cop managed to stagger back into his seat, Sam moved and was in front of him, pulling the knife out and stabbing the cop again and again in a frenzy.
He didn't stop until the cop stopped moving, and he stood up and wiped his arm across his face, then licked the blood that was on his lips. And then he started to laugh because it felt so damn good.
Sam finally felt alive.
I hate you.
Sam was angry. He was very angry and he didn't know what to do with that emotion. It was like a fire in him and he couldn't stay still. He wanted to go into a tree but he couldn't sit still. He wanted to hide in the Impala but Dean would find him. So he just kept walking, not caring where he went but he had to keep moving or he was going to do something he didn't want to do.
"Hey, watch where you're going, G!" A man in an oversized hoodie and low hung jeans shouldered Sam as he walked by, then turned around and yelled at Sam. The two men who were with him turned as well, smirking.
"You watch where you're going. You're the one who hit me," Sam stated over his shoulder, but he kept walking.
"Whoa, hold on a sec. Don't you be disrespecting me, boy." The thug grabbed Sam's shoulder and spun him around to look into his eyes, the gasped at the blackness. "What are you, some kinda freak?"
There was a deep hiss from Sam's throat and his hands clenched into fists. "I'm not a freak," he growled. And then he moved quickly, grabbing the arm on his shoulder and twisting it around. The bone snapped easily as the thug cried out in pain.
The two friends instantly moved to aid the hurt on, but Sam made quick work of them. Fists flew and Sam kept hitting until there were broken bones and blood covering his fists from the faces of his victims.
The rest of the gang appeared from the shadows and Sam just tilted his head. This felt good. It felt right. This is what his angry part wanted to do and he just smirked at the rest of the gang as they surrounded him. His eyes watched the chains and the knives come out of pockets and he just lowered his center and hissed softly.
"Let's show this freak who's boss."
They didn't realize they were going against a demon, and a demonic Winchester at that. They never stood a chance as Sam moved through them like a hot knife through butter. And he was laughing as he took them down. His hand wrapped around a knife at one point and the punching and kicking turned to deadly slicing and stabbing. Soon, Sam was covered in the blood of the gang members as one by one, they fell to his feet struggling for life.
"FREEZE!"
Sam held his arm up to block the bright light of the cop car's spotlight. The police officer had his gun aimed at Sam, but Sam could taste the fear rolling off him. "Drop the Knife!"
"Why would I do that?" Sam asked. He lowered his arm and started for the cop, standing tall.
"DON'T MOVE!"
"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?!" Sam taunted, taking another step closer. He tilted his head, a sick smirk on his lips.
Two gunshots rung out and Sam felt them impact into his chest. He staggered back a few steps but remained upright. His head snapped back to looking at the cop and he snarled. "That wasn't nice."
He took aim and threw the knife, and it embedded itself in the cop's throat. Before the cop managed to stagger back into his seat, Sam moved and was in front of him, pulling the knife out and stabbing the cop again and again in a frenzy.
He didn't stop until the cop stopped moving, and he stood up and wiped his arm across his face, then licked the blood that was on his lips. And then he started to laugh because it felt so damn good.
Sam finally felt alive.

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"That knife's not gonna do you any good on this body, Sam, and you know it." And her own knife was far far away. She wasn't risking an accident. "There are better ways to make me scared." Her hand started to trail down his side, pressing her body up against his using the car for leverage, leaving her lips in inches of his. "Better ways to have some fun. Lots of things I could show you."
The knife was being pressed against her throat just enough to draw a little blood. She could feel it run down her throat, slipping into the cleavage of her shirt. Jake would have taken advantage of that. She was kind of curious if Sam would do the same.
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He felt her body press against his and he groaned deep in his throat before turning black eyes to her. He watched her a moment, not moving away as the smirk came to his lips.
"Then show me."
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She knew that the urge to kill was still there, but she had to teach him a little bit of restraint first. Sex was just as good for blowing off steam, and that was lesson number too. She leaned in, pulling him into a rough, teasing kiss, just teasing him with what she had to offer before pulling away and heading back in the direction she came. "C'mon, Pinocchio. We got some work to do."
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He bet the squealed like stuck pigs.
Then she was kissing him and another urge rose to the top of his list. His fingers started to come up and grab her face before she pulled away and he looked between her and the approaching flashing lights, debating on what he wanted more.
He could find other humans to kill later. Wiping the knife off on the cop's uniform, he held onto it as he ran after her, waiting to see where she led him.
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"Still remember how to do this, big boy, or do you need me to give a tutorial?"
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She wanted him to take, so he would fucken take. He growled and grabbed her hair, pulling it back hard with one hand as his other reached up and pressed against her forhead.
He then reached into her mind, looking for what she wanted him to remember. Flesh. Heat. Taste. Thrust. He tiled his head to the side, eyes closed as he felt her lust wash over him.
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In the meantime though, that didn't mean she couldn't touch herself. Her hands wandered over her his shirt, pulling it away from him, so that she could get under the material and feel skin. Once he released her head, she would lean forward and taste the combination of him and the metallic texture of the blood there, but until then, her hands would just have to do for now.
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Soon he would let her go so his hands could rip at her clothing, wanting to get down to flesh on flesh.
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She just pulled him in closer when he crawled over her, her fingers digging in to his skin as she pushed closer, letting her body press up closer to hers.
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As he did that, he bent over and bit her neck, not aiming to draw blood but to leave a mark of dominance. She wanted him to take her, and he was doing it and he would make sure the bitch remembered who the hell was the powerful one here.
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She had been doing this a lot longer than he have, and she had a trick or two of her own up her sleeve.
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But right now she was open and hot and he was taking her. As he got closer to his edge, he gave a soft groan, his breath speeding up and his hips pounding into her even harder.
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She didn't let herself lapse, though -- benefit of being a demon was that she could separate the two. Her hips continued to meet his rhythm, looking to pull him with her.
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"Turn over," he ordered, and didn't wait but instead pulled out of her and went to grab her hips. "On your knees."
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