Posting from physiology lab cause yolo Marta, I hope you see this... Okay so I might not make the tiny chat tonight because my roommate and I have to go out and get stuff from target (American Tesco) so tell everyone I say hi and happy Halloween :)
Warnings: Horror!Fic, Torture, Violence, Ideologically Sensitive, Strong Language, Best Read At Night: (comedy and fluff included)
A man sat at a table; writing in his notebook. Dan was barely able to see the writing, but could make it out to be some sort of scientific journal with today’s topic being how far the human body can stretch before it reached its limit.
“Oh please! Please don’t! Help!” a voice screamed making Dan turn.
A woman was tied with her wrists above her head and her legs spread wide. She was on a medieval looking torture device Dan vaguely remembered from school known as ‘the rack’ meant to pull the victim’s arms and legs in different directions until they dislocated, then ripped right off.
“You are quite the help.” Count Coronini von Cronberg said standing at the end on the crank.
“Please don’t do this! Let me go! I won’t tell anyone!” The woman begged, tears running down her face.
“Silence! You should be honored to help me - in the name of science! Just think about what your contribution means!” he shouted, voice bouncing off the walls.
“Oh please. Please don’t!” She screamed as he began to turn the crank.
Dan stood up, legs feeling like jelly as he tried to move towards the woman, but just fell again. Her screams rang out while Count Coronini von Cronberg continued to crank. He started laughing as she let out another scream after hearing a sickening pop. Her feet were blue from the circulation being cut off and now they hung limply after being dislocated. Dan felt as if he was going to be sick. He tried to crawl towards her but fell short again while she let out another scream when her shoulders came out of place. Cronberg walked over to his journal to write something down while she screamed and cried in pain, begging God to take her now and take care of her children. Cronberg returned to the crank laughing harder as her screams got louder until a ripping sound silenced her screams. Blood flooded the floor around Dan getting his palms soaked in the metallic smelling liquid making him feel sick.
“Ahh, another volunteer!” Count Coronini von Cronberg smiled walking towards Dan. “You’ll be a great help to the scientific community...”
“Dan!” a voice screamed trying to be heard over Dan’s cries for help. “It’s okay! It’s me, Phil! What happened?”
Dan opened his eyes to see himself sitting on the floor in Phil’s arms. He looked over to where the rack was and breathed out a sigh when it seemed to be as unused as when they got here.
“What the hell was that?” Dan asked Phil as if he knew.
“I don’t know. I just came in here to you screaming. I tried getting you out of it, but it took forever.” Phil replied hugging Dan tightly. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Dan nodded feeling his headache slowly dissipate. “I thought I saw something.”
“Saw what?” Phil asked, concerned, “Was it to do with...you know, the screams?”
He shrugged, letting Phil help him up. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think it’s just the castle getting to me.”
Dan sat himself down back in his seat, massaging his temples. He couldn’t get the picture out of his mind - the sight of the Count approaching him. Immediately his heart started beating faster and colour drained from his face as he remembered the dream he had in the cave with Dean.
“Dan, you look really pale..are you feeling sick?”
He nodded, not daring to say anything. He felt like he would throw up the moment he opened his mouth.
“Do you want some water? I can go get some...” Phil said standing up.
“No, stay.” Dan whispered out. After that, the last thing he wanted was to be alone.
Phils’ mouth narrowed into a line, but regardless he nodded and sat down.
Moments passed and the nauseous feeling left Dan, He could breathe properly and there was no longer a headache or irregular heartbeat haunting him. As if that vision...whatever it was, never happened.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The black haired boy asked as he watch Dan mindlessly shuffle the cards.
At first, Dan didn’t say anything. He didn’t know whether he should tell Phil - it would just make him more scared and the experience more real. It could’ve been just his mind and overactive imagination playing tricks on him. After all, ghosts aren't real, right?
However, he caved in to his senses. The other man had the right to know - he did tell Dan about the screaming he experienced.
“It was a vision... I think.” The younger man said slowly. “What I saw, I saw something similar when I was in the cave with Dean. I don’t know how real it was, you know? It’s terrifying now I think about it. I’ve said that I don’t believe in ghosts but now this...”
“Dan...”
Dan ignored Phil, continuing to speak. “I saw the Count. Not just him though. There was a woman. She was strapped to that rack thing - you know that torture thing in the corner? He...he was experimenting on her, seeing how far the body can stretch. Phil...I saw her. I heard her pleading for mercy. It...It was the worst thing I saw in my life.”
Phil sat silent studying Dan. He placed a hand on Dan’s knee not knowing what else to do.
“Maybe she was the person screaming.” Phil offered feeling his heart rate pick up.
“Maybe.” Dan replied looking up at Phil. “Let’s just call it quits. Let’s just cut our losses and get another hotel. We’ll just tell BBC that-”
Before he could finish, a blood curdling scream echoed through the halls.
“I heard it too.” Dan answered for Phil seeing the worried look on his face.
The both stood up hearing another scream. They both broke into a sprint towards it to see where it was coming from while Phil slipped his hand into Dan’s. Dan held it tight finding comfort in Phil’s grasp and tugged him along to the museum part of the castle where Sam and Dean were supposed to be.
“Dean? Sam?” Phil called out as the screaming stopped.
“Here.” Sam’s voice called sounding weak.
Dan pulled Phil around to the side of a staircase and gasped at the sight. Dean was laying on the floor, his neck snapped and blood pouring out of his ears, mouth, and holes where his eyes used to be. Phil let out a muffled scream as his grip tightened on Dan’s hand.
“What the hell happened?!” Dan asked bending down to Sam’s side.
She was pale and losing blood fast. Her body had holes everywhere - like a hundred spikes went right through her body - allowing more and more blood to fall out. She coughed closing her eyes reaching out for her husband’s hand.
“No, Sam. You’re not going to die. We’ll get help.” Phil comforted her near tears, though they all knew even if help arrived this second, she had no chance.
“Count.” she breathed.
“What?” Dan asked unsure if he heard her correctly.
“Count Coronini von Cronberg. Here.” she said.
“What do you mean? Sam? Sam!” Dan shouted shaking her dead body. “Fuck.”
“Dan.” Phil whispered, tears flowing down his cheeks. “She said Count Coronini von Cronberg is here. And he got them. They’re professionals! We’re next! Dan, we’re going to die! We’re going to be tortured and killed like Sam and Dean!”
“Calm down Phil!” Dan shouted colliding with Phil in a hug. “It’s okay. We’re going to be fine. You just have to stay calm, okay?” he whispered taking on a softer tone running his fingers through Phil’s hair to soothe him.
Phil allowed Dan to wrap himself around him as he tried to control his emotions. Sam and Dean. Dead. The only two people that had any chance at fighting the ghosts haunting these walls were gone. Forever.
“D-Dan.” Phil whimpered. “We need to get out of here.”
“I know,” The other soothed, “Come on, we need to grab our phones from the torture room so we can call for help as soon as we’re out of here.”
“No! I’m not going back there, please...please don’t make me.”
Dan looked Phil in the eye, releasing him from the hug, but not letting go of his hands. “Phil I’m not leaving you here. But we need those phones. We’ll be quick, nothing will happen, I promise.”
Hesitantly, Phil nodded and allowed Dan to half-drag him back as they ran. The way towards the court room and the torture chamber joined to it was a blur, the image of the puddle of blood around Sam and Dean still clear in both their minds.
The room looked almost innocent when they entered it. Nothing happened since they left it mere minutes ago, it remained unchanged regardless of the terrible things that happened in the other parts of the castle. Dan quickly grabbed their phones and after a second of thought, the cameras too.
“Let’s go,” Dan urged, pushing Phil out of the torture chamber before giving it one last look.
The door slammed shut behind them.
“Dan don’t scare me like that!”
“It wasn’t me, I didn’t even touch it.” Dan panicked, moving as far away from the door as possible. “Something’s not right.”
“Something wasn’t right from the moment we got here.” said Phil. “I knew we should have just left the phones.”
Dan shook his head, not bothering to reply. Taking hold of the other man’s hand again, he pulled him towards the corridors while never taking his eyes off the door.
Suddenly, Phil’s body started shaking uncontrollably. Fear ran through Dan as he saw that, grabbing the blue eyed man by the shoulders. “Phil, Phil what’s happening?” He asked over and over again, gaining no response.
Phil’s vision was a blur. He no longer saw Dan in front of him, or felt his hands on his body. That did not exist. He was surrounded by darkness and dim candlelight. It was a scene, a silhouette of a man, dragging another person by the neck into the centre of the court room. Everything was unfocused but the sounds. Phil could hear every word being said, the smallest sound. It felt like someone turned up the volume to the full after having it muted for so long.
“Now, you have a choice here, dearest. What do you think, do you want to go into the hole or into the torture room, hm?” Came a male voice, which Phil guessed to be the Count’s.
“No, please - I have children! They need me!” Begged the other, another man, the victim. Phil did not need to see him in full focus to know what he felt - fear and desperation that were almost suffocating.
“Ah, children, hmm? How about we play a little game then?” Phil’s stomach turned at hearing the Count’s proposition. “How about you let me play with you and I won’t hurt those little angels of yours?”
“I’ll do anything...just don’t hurt them.” The man begged.
“Very well then...I wanted to do this experiment for a while now. Let’s start in the name of science, shall we?”
Albeit unclear, Phil still managed to see the Count pull up the father up onto a chair. He wanted to stop it happening, but he was frozen in place.
“How many children do you have?”
“F-five.”
“Five, you say? Well, how about you break a finger for every child you have? Now go on then, we haven’t got all night.”
The next part made Phil physically sick. He couldn’t see the fingers being broken - but he could feel it as if it was happening to him. He could hear it so clearly that it muffled the Count’s laughter. Every crunch, snap and pull of the muscle being torn away from the bone rang in his ear. The yells torn from the victim’s mouth as he was forced to break his fingers himself brought tears to Phil’s eyes.
“No! No, please stop! STOP!” Phil shrieked, but it was for nought. He was a mere observer to what was the past.
