“I didn’t have much of choice, Lisa. Sort of light on brothers to back me up. It’s not like I can go out and hire anyone to help,” Dean replied.
The burly guys finished shackling Dean to the wall, then walked away.
“It’s fine anyway, I have an idea,” Dean said, trying to sound confident.
“I’m not feeling so fine,” Lisa said.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Constance stepped to the edge of the platform and hushed the gathering. She raised her hands up in supplication and began to speak. Her ice-cold voice echoed loud and clear around the walls.
“To all my sisters, we have waited years. The time is nigh. Our great Princes will rise up and under our power create the world in their image. Darkness will reign. No longer will we have to live in the shadows. Sisters, since we came to this land we have suffered and cowered in the corners. Never gaining the respect or the resplendence we are due. After three hundred years the alignment is clear. Sixty-six seals were broken and though the Prince of the South was returned to the underworld—his resurrection is imminent. We will finally have the dark power to create a New World in which we can live freely without the reigns of the light and the Godly. As we go forth, spread the darkness before you like seeds, dear sisters. We are the chosen queens of darkness. The power is ours for the taking. We are the spouses of the Four Princes, and they will do our bidding and build the world of dark, crushing the light. Bring forth the first sacrifice.”
A scream echoed through the cavern. A young girl, presumably the one from the Amber alert Dean had heard on the trucker’s radio, was dragged up to the platform. Constance began her chant one again. With one hand she brought out a long knife, with the other she held the neck of the girl over a large brass bowl.
“Close your eyes, Ben,” Dean said. “Now.”
Ben squeezed his eyes shut. The girl continued to scream.
The rest of the witches joined in the chanting, louder this time, their voices echoed off the walls so the noise was unbearable.
Dean tried to move closer to Ben as the boy started to visibly shake with fear. Dean looked at Lisa and saw her eyes were full of tears. The guilt squeezed his chest—how could he have let this happen?
Constance shouted over the chanting and the girl’s hysterical screams.
“We call forth the Four Princes of the Darkness. The rulers of Hell, the sons of darkness. Rise up from your unearthly shackles. We call forth and command you to rise. We call all the forces of darkness to rise. To the prince of the North, Belial, I command you to rise. I invoke thee. I summon thee. I conjure thee. With this life blood, manifest thyself. With this sacrifice, manifest thyself. Come forth, Belial. Come forth, Belial.”
The girl fought like a young goat, but Constance held her firmly by the nape of the neck and in one deft cut she slit the girl’s throat from side to side. Lisa whimpered and buried her head in her chest.
Constance held the dead girl’s hair, the body plunged forward and blood poured from the gaping neck wound into the bowl. A dark-red drop splashed up across the lip.
Constance started to shout.
“Belial, I call you forth. I have raised you, I am your Queen, I am your bind to this earth.”
There was a rumble from all sides of the cavern. Small pebbles shook loose from the ceiling.
“What’s happening, Dean? What did she mean by the princes of darkness? Is that Lucifer?” Lisa whispered.
Dean looked at her.
“Is that why we’re here? Were you going to try and do this? Raise Lucifer to get Sam back?” Lisa’s eyes were wide with fear and disbelief.
“It crossed my mind,” Dean admitted.
“Are you crazy? I know you miss Sam, but were you really prepared to do this?”
“I had no idea it meant sacrificing people—I would never do that. You know that, don’t you?”
Lisa turned her head away from him.
“I don’t know anything anymore, Dean. I’m so scared I can’t think.”
Another great groan emanated from the ground. Belial was slowly rising up. They needed to get out of there.
“Trust me, please, baby. It’s going to be fine. I’ll get us out of here—I promise,” Dean said.
Just then two of the burly guys walked over. One grabbed Lisa by the waist and pulled her up, as the second struggled to unlock the ancient iron shackles that held her feet and ankles. Lisa started screaming, she kicked her legs and struggled to escape.
“Mum!” Ben called as he tried to pull free of his bonds.
“Leave her alone,” Dean growled at the men. “Take me instead.” But the guys ignored him.
Lisa spat and fought, she pulled her leg back and managed to kick one of the guys in the nuts. The guy doubled over. Neither of the attackers noticed as a small key dropped to the dusty cavern floor. The guys pulled Lisa away.
Dean looked at the key and looked at Ben. The boy’s eyes were full of terror but he wasn’t hysterical. He understood Dean’s meaning straight away and placed his sneaker over the key.
“Can you get it over to me?” Dean whispered.
Ben steadily wrapped his sneakers around the small object and pushed it toward Dean’s hands. Dean felt the tip of Ben’s sneakers, then the cool metal of the key. He pulled one hand through the shackles as much as he could, then twisted his hand with the key into the keyhole of the opposite shackle. The iron clap unlatched with a soft click. Dean threw a glance in the direction the men had taken Lisa, he saw she was still fighting. Dean undid the other shackle, then his feet. No one was looking at them—all eyes were on Constance.
Dean shuffled over until he was beside Ben. He quickly undid the boy’s shackles. Dean looked around—how was he going to get them out of here unharmed? In the corner Dean spotted a nasty, ripped old dress. Dean crawled over to it and brought it back to Ben.
“Put this on. Quickly,” Dean directed.
“I don’t want to put on a dress,” Ben said.
“Just put it on,” Dean insisted, eyes flicking back and forth to make sure no one was looking at them. Ben pulled the dress on over his T-shirt. “Put this on, too.” Dean handed him a bonnet he had also retrieved. Ben begrudgingly put on the bonnet.
They stood up slowly and carefully, Dean’s gaze taking in the whole room. But the commotion in the center of the cavern was drawing everyone’s attention and they began to move slowly and silently toward the corridor.
“Hold my hands like they’re still shackled,” Dean murmured. “When we get near the opening, let me go and then I need you to do something for me.”
“What about Mom?” Ben asked.
“Don’t worry—I’ll take care of her,” Dean replied.
The chanting continued. In the center of the bonfire the earth below had started to give way again.
Dean saw that Lisa was being forced onto Constance’s podium. He didn’t have much time. He eyed the Necronomicon at the tall witch’s side. She was still giving directions to her underlings.
Dean whispered instructions to Ben, still dressed in the filthy dress and bonnet. If you weren’t looking carefully, he could have been one of the witches. Dean waited a moment.
“Okay, now,” he said.
Ben let go of Dean, and walked toward the podium. His hand shook as he reached out and grabbed the Necronomicon that lay near the dead young girl’s head. He flinched at her dead eyes, that were looking upwards right at him.
“You girl, bring me that book,” Constance said spinning around to face Ben. “Don’t dawdle, give me that book.”
Ben grabbed the book and approached her.
“Give it here,” Constance directed. Ben stepped toward her, but misjudged the uneven dirt floor, he tripped landing on all fours. “Oh you stupid child, can’t seem to resurrect a competent witch these days,” Constance said.
Ben struggled to get up. He rearranged his “skirts” then drew himself up before Constance. He held out the book for her. She grabbed it and stuck it under her arm. T
hen she directed the two burly men to bring Lisa to her. Ben swung around on his heel and walked in the direction of the door. The Escalade still stood inside the entrance. As Ben walked past Dean he handed the Necronomicon to him.
“Good job, now get out of here,” Dean whispered.
Ben nodded and walked into tunnel. The darkness swallowed him.
He made it five feet into the tunnel when two young girls appeared out of the darkness.
“Where are you going, girl?” one of them asked.
Ben hid his head and shrugged.
“These old witches are weird. Do they even speak English?” the other one said.
“I don’t know,” the first one replied. “But she shouldn’t be leaving. Keep her here. I’ll go ask.” The first girl walked into the cavern, the other watched her.
Ben was about to flee, when someone grabbed him by the arm.
Ben struggled against his abductor until the guy turned him around and gestured for him to be quiet. He had pulled him into the side tunnel off the main corridor. Ben couldn’t see much but he could tell this guy was old, bald, and definitely not a witch.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” the man hissed. “Follow me.”
Not having an alternative, Ben did as he was told and followed the old guy. They ran up a long, dark tunnel, through two sets of doors and out into a parking structure.
There they paused to catch their breath. Then the old guy bent down and spoke to Ben.
“I want you to go back above ground. And no matter what you do, do not come down here again. You understand me?”
Ben nodded. “Who are you?”
“Friend of Dean’s. Now go,” the man said sternly. Ben wasn’t going to be told twice. He ran up the ramp and out of the parking garage to the lawn outside. There he plopped down on the grass, still trying to catch his breath. He looked down at his improvised disguise and then quickly tore off his dress and bonnet.
“What the hell are you?” a voice said.
Ben swiveled round. A gang of boys stepped forward and encircled Ben. They were much bigger than Ben, and though he’d been bullied a couple times on the playground, Ben knew he was being confronted by a group with a lot more street cred.
“We haven’t seen you around here before. You know you gotta ask permission before coming outside, right.” one of them said.
In the last six hours Ben’s skin had grown a tad thicker than it had been before.
“Dude, leave me alone. There’s some shit going down and I really don’t need your crap too.”
“Hey, you know some white guy, Dean, came here looking for trouble round here?” an older kid said, stepping forward.
“Yeah, Dean’s my mom’s boyfriend. He’s down there,” Ben said pointing to the parking garage.
“Where? Down in that locked cavern shit?” another kid said.
Ben nodded. “These real bad witches have my mom. I don’t know how Dean’s gonna stop them. Some old bald guy just took me up here and told me to stay. I think he went back in there.”
The older kid held up his hand. He was clearly the leader.
“What do you mean witches, little man? Like Halloween witches? You trippin’?”
Ben shook his head emphatically.
“No, I mean real witches. Like want to bring the dark days upon this whole town, upon this whole world kind of witches. Believe me, there isn’t going to be any candy given out.”
“Well, I’m up for a little beat down. If that white dude is down there, we’re going to go help him. Tiny get some steel up in here,” the kid said.
“Sure thing, Tim.” Tiny, who was anything but, popped open the back trunk of a Caddy. Inside was an impressive weapons cache. Ben got up and stepped toward the trunk.
“Back away, little man. This is our fight now. No freaks are going to take over our homes,” the older kid said.
They all grabbed street weaponry and disappeared down the ramp and into the parking garage.
Ben sat on the bumper of the car and said a little prayer that Dean and his mother would reappear soon. This vacation really sucked.
Samuel and Sam crouched at the cavern entrance; they were taking potshots at any witches trying to leave the cave.
They heard a noise behind them, and turned to see a group of boys were approaching through the tunnel. Samuel stood up to meet them.
“Be careful in there boys,” Samuel said.
“Why aren’t you in there, old man?” the oldest-looking kid asked.
“Believe me, I’m doing my part,” Samuel said as he pointed his gun at a runaway resurrected hag and pulled the trigger. Her dusty head slit in two and she dropped at the boys’ feet.
“Good enough,” the kid said.
Crouched in the shadows, Dean thumbed quickly through the Necronomicon. He found the spell Thomas had described in the journal that Nathaniel had used to send Belial back to Hell. Dean realized he had one small problem; he didn’t have anyone to sacrifice—except himself.
He was going to have to rethink this—but fast. Very fast. Constance was hushing the chanting crowd of witches. She had pulled Lisa up on the platform. In the center of the cavern, the earth started to move around in a circle. The fire squelched as a blast of heat poured from the hole opening up in the center of the room. Belial was rising.
Constance started to chant again. Dean saw a shadowy figure lunge forward in the darkness.
Then he saw them. The kid who had sold him the guns and his gang ran into the cavern, guns blazing. They started shooting.
Enraged, Constance released Lisa and leapt off the podium. Dean was relieved to see Lisa still had the presence of mind to seize an opportunity, as she too jumped off the podium and retreated into the corridor, back toward safety.
Dean ran toward the group.
“Dude, arm me!” he yelled at Tim.
Tim swiveled around and threw Dean a sawed-off.
“Now this is more like it,” Dean muttered. He turned around and started blasting at encroaching witches. He climbed back up onto the Escalade and started shooting at the center of the writhing fiery pit.
“This is some shit,” Tim called.
“All in a day’s work,” Dean yelled back.
The gang members had some great hunting skills. One old witch flew at Tiny, who tried to swat her away but was caught offguard by her strength.
“Die, witch bitch,” Tiny said, pointing his gun at the resurrected creature’s head and blowing her dusty brains out.
Another kid with a red do-rag ran into the center of the cavern.
“Don’t!” Dean yelled. But it was too late, the kid jumped over the ring of fire and landed in the center of the resurrection. The ground gave way and a blast of fire spit up as the kid slid into the pit.
Tiny steeled himself as another witch jumped on his back.
“Duck!” Dean yelled.
Tiny ducked down, leaving an open shot for Dean. He blasted the witch.
“They’re weakened by all their energy going toward the resurrection,” Dean explained. “Just keep blowing them away.”
Constance flew at Dean and toppled him off the car, knocking the breath out him. The tall witch knelt on top of him and held the knife to his neck.
“When are you Campbells going to stop causing problems for me?” she hissed. “I’m getting pretty sick of it.”
“Get sick of this bitch,” Tim said, shoving his gun into her head. But Constance was too quick; she spun off of Dean and swiped at Tim with the knife. A crimson ribbon of blood appeared across his chest. The boy looked down in surprise, and ineffectually put his hand to his chest. A little bubble of blood spit out his lips.
“No!” Dean rushed to Tim’s side. “We’ll get you out of here.”
He shook his head.
“Too late, man, too late. I ain’t going to make it. Just use me, okay?”
Dean looked into the kid’s eyes and nodded. He knew what he was saying.
“Take care of my Gram.”
The life was quickly draining out of him.
At that moment the rumbling became more intense. From the center of the cavern a geyser of fire shot up from the floor, the figure of Belial—half-goat, half-man—appeared from the earth. Though surrounded by fire, the figure was darker than dark. It turned toward Constance in a shower of brimstone.
“I have raised you, I am your Queen, I am your bind to this earth,” she cried.
“Belial is yours to obey. You have unchained the first Prince of Hell.” Belial’s voice shuddered over the cavern.
“Do it. Do it now,” Tim whispered to Dean.
Dean pulled out the Necronomicon, and started reading out loud.
“Oh god of dark and god of light. You are summoned no more. Hide your evilness in the cage from which you came, you are not wanted on this mortal plain. I forbade vos of atrum pergo huic regnum. Vos es inconcessus ut ingredior inter lux lucis. Vos es inconcessus ut futurus in is terra. Vado tergum qua vos venit. Vado tergum ut vestri cage. Vos es non volo. Per vox of lux lucis quod filiolus of Olympus quod bonus verto tergum ut atrum.”
Belial swung his mighty head and the enormous blackness headed toward Dean, but Dean continued, struggling to keep his voice steady.
“You are not needed in this world. Go back from which you came. Take this sacrifice and be gone.”
With that Dean sliced Tim’s throat and the blood spurt from his neck over Dean’s hands. It dripped onto the dirt floor, seeping into the dust. Belial gave a great roar. He moved toward Dean, and as he passed through the ring of fire, he transformed. Suddenly standing in front of Dean was the figure of John Winchester.
But the figure’s voice wasn’t his father’s; it belonged to something dark and unearthly.
“Dean, why have you forsaken your father? Why not create Hell on Earth, and then your family can be together again?” it said.
Dean turned his head away and repeated the last sentence of the incantation.
“Non opus in hoc mundo. Revertere unde veneris. Accipe sacrificium et recedemus.”
Belial bent down and shot his hand out, grabbing Dean’s chin. He pulled him toward the fire.
Supernatural 7 - One Year Gone Page 23