Halfbreed: Destiel's Daughter

Eleanor is no ordinary teenager. First, she's a Winchester, that should say it all. But there's so much more... She's been killing the supernatural her whole life, and by 17 years old, she thinks she knows everything, except, she still doesn't know that angels exist. Funny, considering that one of her fathers is Castiel, an angel of the Lord...

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17. Hell

Eleanor's Pov.

Within half a second the air had changed. It was hot, as you'd imagine Hell would be. Like a few hundred degrees. To a mortal it would have been incredibly painful. Demons, hideous, broken faces surrounded me on all sides. Most were gathered around a clean looking soul- a human. Screams of terror and agony emitted from every one of the human souls.

The smell was probably the worst part, your nostrils filled with burning flesh and blood and sweat and the insides of people that were scattered everywhere. Demons snarled and grinned at me as I was dragged deeper and deeper into the pit by the king.

Eventually we came to a black door, it wasn't originally black, you could tell it was burned. Inside was a single other demon, a chair with straps on it, and a table full of tools that I'd never seen before. This demon may have been uglier than Crowley, I cringed at the sight of him.

“So I see my handcuffs worked?” He asked.

“Quite nicely, now, if you'll give me a while alone with Ms. Winchester. I'll call you when I need you to fill in.” Crowley laughed, delighted. The nameless demon nodded, leaving the room. Crowley didn't remove the hand cuffs until he'd forced me into the seat. The straps on the chair were the same metal as the handcuffs, I knew because they caused my skin to bubble and burn when they touched me.

I almost let out a cry of pain, but I didn't. I couldn't give Crowley the satisfaction. I even fought against the restrictions, thrashing and pulling. I ignored the horrible pain while I did so, but soon gave up, figuring that it was pointless. Crowley had sat watching me, amused by my agony and frustration.

“I have to say, I was more than delighted when you walked in on your daddy and me. He would have killed me if it wasn't for you. And I wouldn't have been able to have my fun with you...” He stroked my cheek lightly with the back of his hand. I fought back the urge to bite it. I'd never been in a situation like that before, but I was smart enough to not piss him off, not quite yet at least... Soon enough I might just do it for the shear joy- as idiotic as that might be.

“Remind me to apologize to him about that.” I replied, though a large percentage of me was terrified, I didn't show it. Crowley wouldn't know. I wouldn't let him.

“You've done Hell a great service my dear, and now you're going to do even more. You're going to be my weapon.” He said, triumphant, probably because he got to me before the angels.

“No, I won't.” I spat.

He chuckled, “It's adorable that you think you have a choice. Before we get to that though, I need some information. Either you answer my questions, or you answer my questions. One way involves torture. Choose wisely.”

“Eat me.” I responded. That obviously wasn't the answer he was looking for, because he turned to his toolbox then. I scoffed when he pulled out a blade not longer than my pinky.

“You got lucky once your highness, I've done tests, I can't be tortured, because I can't feel pain.” I smiled at him, a sarcastic smile that could probably piss off just about anyone. I know it always made my fathers mad...

My mood shifted at that thought. That day in Kansas could have been the last day I'd ever see my family. Suddenly, tears wanted to come. My dad could forever think that I hate him because of what he is... In that moment I stopped caring. Up until then I was still scared, I didn't want to ever touch him, or barely even look at him. But in the blink of an eye I couldn't care less what my family was. Angel, Demon, Human, Werewolf, Death himself, I didn't give a rat's ass. All I knew was that I wanted to see them again. I wished that I was still with them, that I wasn't so selfish, that I never left them...

“Oh, I know that this will hurt. Let me know when you give up.” Crowley informed. He tore off my shirt, and then my jeans. I was strapped into the torture chair in nothing but my underwear. That was worse than the pain, watching as his eyes moved over my body.

“You are so lovely... It's a shame, really...” He sighed, and then he began to carve, just above my belly button. I bit down as hard as I could on my bottom lip to keep from screaming. My hands clenched into impossibly tight fists. He was right. It did hurt. It was worse than any pain I had ever felt.

After a few hours of him slicing all over my body, my insides were fully exposed. The floor was covered in blood, it seemed like it should be all the blood in my body, but I was still as awake as I was when he started. His blade found it's way to one of my organs, slicing, slow and deep. That was when I finally screamed, and the look of satisfaction on his face killed me more than any torture... 

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