SpN: Non Timebo Mala, prologue
11/3/09 12:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHere's the opening bit of the Semi-Cowboy fic.
"This the place?"
"Yes, Stuuu--pid." The man speaking rolled his eyes, and ran his fingers through his thick mustache; his fingers seemed fascinated by the feel. The six men wore long, mud-spattered, black canvas dusters, hats pulled low over their eyes. The horses they rode dripped foam, biting hard on their bits, their skin quaking. They stood stock still though everything about them telegraphed a desire to run. Their eyes rolled and blinked, steam rose from their flared nostrils. One of the men leaned forward and caught his mount's eyes, patted its shoulder.
"Yer a good boy, aren't ya?" he smirked, and a few of the other men laughed as the horse shied and made a noise that it shouldn't have been capable of.
The leader of the group, the man with the heavy moustache, snarled at his men. "Shut up you complete idiots. Come along. The boss says the whole thing has to burn."
"We getting' some fun or not? Could use some. It's boring as fuck out here. Big shot bastard…thinks he knows it all…."
"Why don't I share with the boss what you think? How long before he'd tire of playing with you and let you out that corpse? We're not here for fun. Torch the place, fry the meat monkeys and get the fuck out, that's the deal."
The men grumbled and growled at each other, and whipped the horses forward. The leader and the one who'd complained of boredom held back and watched the others ride towards the house.
"What's the point, here? Why can't we play with them if the boss wants them gone anyway?" The bored one asked.
"Beliel wants these…" black eyes opened wider—"Winchesters dead. Apparently he thinks they may become a problem somewhere down the line—doesn't matter. Mostly he wants them dead because Azazel doesn't. Beliel desire's are not our business. We just follow our orders."
"Yeah, guess you're right. I'd just as soon keep my head down and not be noticed. Safer that way."
The leader smiled. "Words to keep your head by."
~xX0Xx~
In a clearing stood a cabin—neat, new, and looking well cared for. At the edge of the yard, tangled in a newly-erected post and rail fence, pumpkins lolled on the end of their vines. The bright orange and dusty green of the fruit and vine, the fresh tan of the fence stood out against the golden fields and made a pretty picture, framed by the streaks of salmon and pink and orange the setting sun threw across the snowy peaks of the distant mountains. It was a lovely picture of prosperity, of peace. Black eyes took it in, and a low, satisfied voice said, "Burn it all."
The two small cabin windows flanking the door gleamed like gold. The sun dropped lower, flamed in the sky, and competed with the flames they unleashed on the cabin. They watched for a moment or two as the walls caught, the roof rose and flapped before showering the sky with burning shingles….
~xX0Xx~
Inside the cabin, the mother grabbed the child closet to her, and ran for her other baby.
"No, no—*run*, get out, Mary!" shouted the father. "I've got Sammy. You and Dean get outside!" He swept the baby out of the crib, ready to run, when the door blew open.
"Well, well, and where are you off to? We've got a nice fire here, and I expect you've got some lovely chestnuts to throw on the fire." the mustached man winked at John. "We'll roast them up nicely, believe me."
The crew at his back laughed raucously, jostling each other—it was awfully like boys at a bonfire, John thought, and tightened his grip on the baby. Wished that his rifle was handy.
The mustached one stepped forward, ignoring chunks of burning pine dropping on him. John stepped back, fear racing through him, gagging on the smell of burning flesh. Blinded by the flames, he heard Mary screaming in fear….
"Shut that bitch up," the leader of the intruders hissed, and his face…his face turned into something inhuman.
"Devil," John gasped.
"Well, right enough, though that's a lower case D," it sniggered. "Get it?" It made an expression that suggested its eyes were rolling but it was impossible to tell, all black as they were. John stiffened slightly, and by sheer force of will made himself to relax—Mary was slipping behind them towards the door, to freedom….
His heart leaped—go, go, save yourself, save our boy. His hands bowed over Sammy, Sammy who was going to die with him…tears ran and the devils laughed. And then—Mary's shriek of pain cut through him, laced through with Dean's high pitched scream, it speared him. Mary shrieked again--a sound impossible for a human throat--and then the floor caved in, the roof sagged inward with a shower of sparks and clots of flame, to rest in the cellar….
The world exploded and went dark. It was over in less than the blink of an eye.
And then, hopefully a lot more….
eta:part 1
"This the place?"
"Yes, Stuuu--pid." The man speaking rolled his eyes, and ran his fingers through his thick mustache; his fingers seemed fascinated by the feel. The six men wore long, mud-spattered, black canvas dusters, hats pulled low over their eyes. The horses they rode dripped foam, biting hard on their bits, their skin quaking. They stood stock still though everything about them telegraphed a desire to run. Their eyes rolled and blinked, steam rose from their flared nostrils. One of the men leaned forward and caught his mount's eyes, patted its shoulder.
"Yer a good boy, aren't ya?" he smirked, and a few of the other men laughed as the horse shied and made a noise that it shouldn't have been capable of.
The leader of the group, the man with the heavy moustache, snarled at his men. "Shut up you complete idiots. Come along. The boss says the whole thing has to burn."
"We getting' some fun or not? Could use some. It's boring as fuck out here. Big shot bastard…thinks he knows it all…."
"Why don't I share with the boss what you think? How long before he'd tire of playing with you and let you out that corpse? We're not here for fun. Torch the place, fry the meat monkeys and get the fuck out, that's the deal."
The men grumbled and growled at each other, and whipped the horses forward. The leader and the one who'd complained of boredom held back and watched the others ride towards the house.
"What's the point, here? Why can't we play with them if the boss wants them gone anyway?" The bored one asked.
"Beliel wants these…" black eyes opened wider—"Winchesters dead. Apparently he thinks they may become a problem somewhere down the line—doesn't matter. Mostly he wants them dead because Azazel doesn't. Beliel desire's are not our business. We just follow our orders."
"Yeah, guess you're right. I'd just as soon keep my head down and not be noticed. Safer that way."
The leader smiled. "Words to keep your head by."
In a clearing stood a cabin—neat, new, and looking well cared for. At the edge of the yard, tangled in a newly-erected post and rail fence, pumpkins lolled on the end of their vines. The bright orange and dusty green of the fruit and vine, the fresh tan of the fence stood out against the golden fields and made a pretty picture, framed by the streaks of salmon and pink and orange the setting sun threw across the snowy peaks of the distant mountains. It was a lovely picture of prosperity, of peace. Black eyes took it in, and a low, satisfied voice said, "Burn it all."
The two small cabin windows flanking the door gleamed like gold. The sun dropped lower, flamed in the sky, and competed with the flames they unleashed on the cabin. They watched for a moment or two as the walls caught, the roof rose and flapped before showering the sky with burning shingles….
Inside the cabin, the mother grabbed the child closet to her, and ran for her other baby.
"No, no—*run*, get out, Mary!" shouted the father. "I've got Sammy. You and Dean get outside!" He swept the baby out of the crib, ready to run, when the door blew open.
"Well, well, and where are you off to? We've got a nice fire here, and I expect you've got some lovely chestnuts to throw on the fire." the mustached man winked at John. "We'll roast them up nicely, believe me."
The crew at his back laughed raucously, jostling each other—it was awfully like boys at a bonfire, John thought, and tightened his grip on the baby. Wished that his rifle was handy.
The mustached one stepped forward, ignoring chunks of burning pine dropping on him. John stepped back, fear racing through him, gagging on the smell of burning flesh. Blinded by the flames, he heard Mary screaming in fear….
"Shut that bitch up," the leader of the intruders hissed, and his face…his face turned into something inhuman.
"Devil," John gasped.
"Well, right enough, though that's a lower case D," it sniggered. "Get it?" It made an expression that suggested its eyes were rolling but it was impossible to tell, all black as they were. John stiffened slightly, and by sheer force of will made himself to relax—Mary was slipping behind them towards the door, to freedom….
His heart leaped—go, go, save yourself, save our boy. His hands bowed over Sammy, Sammy who was going to die with him…tears ran and the devils laughed. And then—Mary's shriek of pain cut through him, laced through with Dean's high pitched scream, it speared him. Mary shrieked again--a sound impossible for a human throat--and then the floor caved in, the roof sagged inward with a shower of sparks and clots of flame, to rest in the cellar….
The world exploded and went dark. It was over in less than the blink of an eye.
And then, hopefully a lot more….
eta:part 1
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
11/3/09 05:48 am (UTC)*shakes you by the collar*
More, woman! Eek! *whimpers* You've successfully sunk your fic-claws into me yet again. Damn, you!
Hee.
(no subject)
11/3/09 06:02 am (UTC)Hunh--the more I go along, the less cowboy is in it. This one is coming a lot faster than the J2. This is more or less just adventure and the J2 is a lot of talking and thinking--*pout* but if I get it right, it'll also be lots and lots of nasty, and this one, sadly, not so much. *G*
(no subject)
11/3/09 02:15 pm (UTC)*shudders*
(no subject)
11/8/09 05:23 am (UTC)OMG! Can I
stealshare your icon puh-leeeeeeeeeeze?????? It's perfect for the Public Enemies AU!*koff* Anyhoo....*blush*
(no subject)
11/8/09 05:34 am (UTC)Actually, i clutch this lovely, happy ending to my chest, as you'll torture me horribly with this one, i know.
Yis, of course, you may have the icon. It's by
*snuggles up close*
(no subject)
11/8/09 05:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/8/09 06:08 am (UTC)*smooch*
(no subject)
11/3/09 11:55 pm (UTC)Can't wait to see what else you come up with for this!
(no subject)
11/8/09 05:24 am (UTC)roxy be clueless...sadly almost a normal state for her....
(no subject)
11/8/09 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/8/09 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/8/09 04:27 pm (UTC)Who, me??
(no subject)
11/6/09 06:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/8/09 05:25 am (UTC)*massive hugs*
Thank you!!!!
(no subject)
11/8/09 05:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/10 03:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
5/5/10 03:32 am (UTC)well, I like to start things with a bang... ;)
(no subject)
5/5/10 04:11 am (UTC)Will keep reading! You keep writing!