(PG) They don't like each other much, but certain situations can bring even the most distant closer together.

Read more Unlikely Allies

(PG-13) Mulder goes hunting after fairytales again and Scully tags along. It doesn’t turn out the way Mulder hoped it would and things go wrong

Read more Bigfoot

(PG-13) On Halloween, Mulder goes exploring on his own and Scully ends up having to face some pretty strange things to save him from certain doom.

Read more Schreck Mansion Blues

(PG) John finds out that hard way that some fairytales may have root in reality

Read more 5x03 - A Pirate's Life For Me

(PG) A curse book, a salt'n'burn and everything goes South for the Winchester brothers. Who ever said that a rabbit's foot was bad luck?

Read more Bad Things Come In Threes

(PG-13) Things go terribly wrong and Hercules is facing a question at the end of a hard, long road that requires a well-thought-out answer.

Read more The Eye Of Gall

(PG-13) John is tired of Scorpius popping up everywhere, but can't seem to outrun him. He has a bad experience which rattles his belief that others are fundamentally good at heart and realizes there's only one way to break the stalemate between himself and his biggest fan.

Read more A Really Bad Day


Altex - Hynerian body organz

Ammiox - tool to alleviate Moya's amnexus problems

Amnexus - part of Moya's internal systems

Arn - unit of time roughly equivalent to one Earth hour

Aurora Chair - experimental torture device used by Scorpius to interogate prisoners, which projects their memories onto a screen


Barkan - Hynerian animal analogous to a bat, as in: He blasted out of there like a barkan out of Hezmana!

Bassim oil - a possession of Zhaan's that Chiana snurches

Blotching - mild expletive used by Furlow, the engineer at Dam-Ba-Da depot: Twice as blotching long as it would if w you weren't here.

Bonosphere - outer layer of the atmosphere on Furlow's planet


Cholian curd salad - Hynerican delicacy

Contala tea - a Luxan drink

Crank - mild Zenetan explenetive: They blasted the crank out of me!

Cycle - unit of time roughly equivalent of one Earth year


Dag-yo - Nebari term for cool, a word the translator microbes can't cope with

Das-trak krjtor - Scarran expletive

Dench - unit of measurement roughly equivalent to 1 inch: I want a three point grid search of every square dench of this asteroid.

Draz - mild Nebari expletive: We can StarBurst the draz out of here!

Dren - universal term for rubbish (sometimes used in a stronger form): All this analysis dren comes really naturally to you.


Eema - Luxan equivalent of backside, as in when D'Argo tells Chiana: You are a real pain in the eema!


Fahrbot - Hynerian word for insanity, as in: You're not just fahrbot, you're magra-fahrbot!

Fellip - creature from Tarsis from whom nectar is taken to make an alcoholic drink

Flillgran - a Delvian plant

Frangle - an enging part (possibly non-exsistent, since Furlow is trying to bamboozle Crichton when she says it)

Frell - Sebacean explentive, as in: What the frell is causing that magnetic anomaly?

Frotash - type of Luxan garden which D'Argo would like to plant


Gah - Nebari explentive

Glarion frost point - a very low temperature; temperature benchmark (in reference to cryo-stasis)

Greebols - Nebari term for a fool: Why do I always get stuck with the greebols that don't have any plan?

Grezz - another possibly non-existent engine part; see Frangle

Gris - Nebari term similar to dren, as in: We beat the gris out of them!

Grolack - a feast item

Grotless - Nebari term for 'out of my wits': I'm scared grotless!


Hentas - Hynerian unit of short measurement: A bomb, mere hentas from where I was...

Hepatian minced stew - a feast item

Hetch drive - the engine put in Farscape 1 after Crichton burns off the last of the fuel

Hezmana - Luxan term for Hell: Where in the hezmana is that siren coming from?


Jelifan fire paste - an explosive

Jinka poles - Sebacean term, as in: You damage the captain's prize and he'll have both your head's on jinka poles!

Juka - expletive used by the botanist Br'Nee

Juxt - mild Hynerian expletive: What the juxt was that?!


Kal tenaga, chvoko - Sebacean phrase roughly translated as ' a crowning glory'

Karjik Pulse - form of tracking device used by the Peacekeepers, attuned to energy sources

Krawldar - Hynerian delicacy

Kronite - remnants of past Peacekeeper cargo which have explosive properties


Lerg - Sebacean number as in: Level four, number six lerg five

Living Death - Sebacean name for an irreversible comatose state induced by exposure to high temperatures

Lutra oil - a volatile explosive


Marauder - Peacekeeper assault ship

Marjols - a delicacy enjoyed by Hynerians

Masata - Acquaran term for saviour

Mellet - something that is not very pleasant served chopped

Microt - united of time roughly equivalent to one Earth second

Mivonks - intimate male body part, as in: She's clearly leading D'Argo around by his mivonks


Nerfer - Sebacean term for somone who plays by-the-book: Guess he's not as big a nerfer as I thought he was.

Numnas - derogative Sebacean expression for guts, as in: You haven't got the numnas to go through with this!


Panthak jab - a type of blow used by Peacekeepers in battle to knock out a foe

Paraphoral nerve - part of Sebacean anatomy which facilitates the removal of toxins from the body, but does not regenerate when damaged. (This is similar to the function of the liver in th human body)

Pedrark - Luxan festival

Pleebig - mild expletive used by Furlow: I'm not a pleebig occular physician.

Pneuma - something vital to Delvians: I would risk my pneuma for a chance to go home.

Prabakto - Hynerian term for rascal, as in: Just go, you lucky prabakto.

Pronga - animal whose smoked sinew is easy to prepare

Prowler - two-seater, top-of-the-line Peacekeeper ship similar to a jet fighter


Qualta Blade/Qualta Riffle - Luxan weapon, serving as both a pulse riffle and a twin-bladed weapon powerful enough to cut through stone


Raslak - hot, strong drink server on Peacekeeper bases (probably alcoholic)



(PG) Mulder gets involved in a nasty case and ends up in mortal danger. He also gets deprived of one of the few remaining illusions he has.

Read more Business As Usual

(PG-13) A Halloween prank turned on its head puts Mulder in mortal danger and has Scully scrambling to save him from certain doom.

Read more A Breach Of Loyalty

(PG) John and Aeryn go shopping on a commerce planet and John messes up, landing them in a very bad situation that teaches him more about the UTs and how he can't expect this part of the universe to bow to human rules.

Updated: 6. September 2012 (COMPLETED)

Read more Out Of The Fire

(PG-13) Sam and Dean stumble over a cult in a small town in Louisiana and get in over their heads. They get help from an unexpected source. But not everything is what it appears to be.

Read more Maiden, Mother & Crone

(PG-13) Just when things can't get any worse, that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel shines a little brighter.

Read more A Tale Of Hope

(PG-13) John once again gets in over his head and the rest of Moya's little band of outlaws has to rush to his rescue. But things are not as easy as they seem -- like always -- and the future seems a little bleak for Moya's gang.

Read more Deja Vu All Over Again

(PG-13) Loss can drive you crazy if you let it. John is having his own problems with loss these days and Sikozu is not helping.

Read more A Perfect Day

(PG-13) A tag for 7x06 Slash Fiction

Read more 7x06 Tag

(PG-13) Separated by forces outside of their control, John and Aeryn must make the best of it until they're reunited.

Read more Dreaming Of You

(PG-13) While on his way to chase down Sam at Bobby's, Dean gets some help from an unexpected source.

Read more Godzilla

(R) Shapeshifters, drugs and abduction. All in a day's work for Mulder and Scully.

Read more Cruel And Unusual Punishment

(NC-17) One job leads to another and Dean learns something about Sam's time at Stanford he could have done without.

Read more Payback's A Bitch

(PG-13) A boy with special abilities, a ghost with a split personality disorder and Sam and Dean stuck in the middle.

Read more Touched

(PG-13) Dean's last year is crawling along and Sam is still desperately trying to find a way to get him out of that deal. On a hunt for yet more demons, Sam runs into someone familiar who offers him a whole lot of money for an anonymous box from his father's stash. What's in it and why is it worth so much?

Read more The Box

(PG-13) Dean's made his deal and Sam is desperate to save him. Needless to say, trouble is brewing.

Read more Road to Perdition

(PG-13) After the successful end of another ghost-hunt, the brothers want to relax a bit. But someone has other plans for Sam.

Read more Prey

(PG) A church, at night, in the rain, at the edge of the abyss, is sanctuary.

Read more Sanctuary

(G) Time travel can have its advantages.

Read more Dreamscapes

(PG) Sam's not the only freak in the family. Dean has a weird realization when a demon tries to possess him.

Read more Possession

(G) When exactly did Sam learn to stand up for himself?

Read more Past Tense

(PG) Everything is not black and white. There are a lot of shades of grey in-between and sometimes, these shades lean more toward white than black.

Read more Mistaken Identity

Dean woke up with a start, at first completely and utterly disoriented. He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, and a brief glance at the alarm clock told him it was six a.m. "What the hell?" he rasped. He had no recollection of going to sleep the night before and was more or less certain that he wouldn't have without squaring things out with Sam. Concerned, he sat up only to be hit by the worst dizzy spell he'd ever had in his life. Certain that he would get sick like hell if he didn't lie back down, he dropped back again and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, the room had stopped spinning and he again tried to sit up, this time a little slower.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he was more than just a little disoriented. Mostly he felt like he had been drugged out of his mind the night before, but since he hadn't even managed to get anything to eat since breakfast, that could hardly be the explanation.

It took him a good long while to get his act together enough to get off the bed and into the bathroom so he could splash some water on his face. He gripped the edges of the sink, closed his eyes and just stood there for a moment. Then he opened his eyes and glanced back into the room. Sam's bed was untouched.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, pushed away from the sink and staggered back into the room. His head was swimming.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your attitude."

Frigg's voice brought him to a stop and he struggled with his balance for a second. "What the hell are you doing to Sam?" he growled and blinked rapidly a few times to clear his vision.

"I'm not doing anything to Sam," she claimed. She was partially dressed in the fact that she was wearing Sam's shirt.

He couldn't help the feeling of slight hysteria that was trying to settle on him. He fought it back, but only barely. "Like hell. He's not listening to me any more and that's not good news under any circumstances."

Frigg folded her arms over her chest, a smile stretching her lips slightly. "Perhaps if you respected him as an individual rather than treating him like a little child with no sense, he would not be so angry with you right now."

Another wave of dizziness swept over him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered over to his bed and dropped down on it. "What the hell are you doing to me?" he growled and looked up at her. The seesawing of the room was making him nauseous.

"Keeping you off balance," she countered. "I want you to leave Sam alone, let him do what he wants to do, and this doesn't go any further."

"Like hell," Dean growled and briefly closed his eyes. The swaying notion settled a little when he closed his eyes, but he couldn't very well fight her if he couldn't see her. "You stay the hell away from my brother, you bitch," he added vehemently and tried to draw himself up on his feet, but failed miserably.

Frigg smiled. "You do not have the power or the fortitude to fight me. All I have to do is want it and you will die a horrible death. Or you could just ... disappear."

"You're not Frigg," he pressed out, one hand clawed into the edge of the bed to keep himself from keeling over and hitting the carpet face first. "You're not a goddess."

Her smile turned a little sour. "That depends on who you ask," she said.

"SAM!" he yelled. If Sam saw him like this, he would know something was up. "SAM!"

"He can't hear you. He won't wake up until I let him," Frigg said.

Dean tried to focus his increasingly unsteady gaze on her while he fought a losing battle against the nausea. "Who the hell are you?"

"That's something you'll never know," she said. "If you let this go, if you ... forget about this, I'll let you live. But nothing comes between me and Sam now. Do you understand?"

Incapable of doing anything more than glare at her right now, Dean did just that. "What the hell do you want from Sam?" he demanded.

"His life force," she said with a smirk on her lips. "And he has so much of that. Psychics are always so much stronger in their life force than anyone else." She stepped forward, laid a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to get on eye-level with him. "The only way to impart that life force of his is through sex. Lots of it. All the time," she nearly whispered.

He tried to lash out at her, tried to shrug out of her grip and land a punch in her pretty face, but he could barely move and his stomach was doing somersaults at this point. The bile was rising in his throat and he had to make a very conscious effort to remain upright.

"Ah well. I didn't really think it was plausible to keep you around," she said, released his shoulder and stepped back. "Get up," she added.

He wanted to tell her to go to hell, but he couldn't speak. His jaw was locked. And his body responded to her command without his participation.

"I will tell Sam that you've taken off, that you think he's better off with me, that we had a long talk about it and that I'm more capable of protecting him and that it leaves you free to pursue your own goals," she said and nodded toward the door while she grabbed his duffle. "Everything packed?" she asked and smirked. "Let's go, then. We'll take your car. Otherwise it won't be believable, will it?"


He'd been through some doozies when it came to headaches over the past two years, but this one was no joke. He could barely pry his lids apart when consciousness finally caught up to him and he generally wished he hadn't woken up at all. A part of his subconscious mind kicked him harshly, insisting that something was wrong, that he hadn't had anything to drink the night before, and that there was no reason for him feeling this way.

He groaned and burrowed his face into the pillow, then shifted a little and turned his head the other way. Frigg was asleep next to him and the previous night's eye opening experience came back to him. It would explain why he felt tired, but not why he had a humongous headache. He pushed up on his elbows and squinted at the alarmclock on the night stand. Seven thirty. He pursed his lips, closed his lids again and let his head drop for a moment. He needed to get up and get a hold of some painkillers to get rid of that headache. It mostly felt like one of those whoppers he could get if he drank too much alcohol and didn't resupply with water at the same time. Dehydration, in other words.

"Crap," he rasped and sent a glance toward the floor where his clothes lay scattered. He grabbed his boxers, then sat up and took a time-out before he could even think of how to get them on. That thought made him smirk halfheartedly before he did manage that rather simple task.

Dressed only in his boxers, he got to his feet and pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair while trying to comprehend what the hell had happened to make him feel that shitty.

It was at that moment that he realized his duffle wasn't in the next room, it was in this one. He frowned lightly and glanced at the connecting door. The argument he'd had with his brother the night before came back to him and he grimaced. "Shit," he whispered, patted over to the door and turned the nob. Nothing happened. He pulled lightly at the door, but it didn't budge.


Frigg's voice made him abandon the door for a moment. He turned back to face her. "He's locked the door," he said.

The look in her eyes made him a little uneasy. She looked almost sad. "Sam ... Dean left," she said.

He blinked. "Left?" he countered. The word made little sense to him right now. "What do you mean, left? Where'd he go?"

"I don't know," Frigg countered. "I was up an hour ago and ... well ... he was packing the car."

"Packing the car?" A sensation of dread washed over him and cleared his mind a little. He was able to distract himself away from the headache. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you're going to have to accept that he's gone, Sam," she said and smiled vaguely. "But it's okay. You've still got me."

The headache receded completely while the anger began to grow. This was wrong. Very wrong. Dean wouldn't leave without telling him, no matter what his reasons were for leaving. "Where's Dean?" Sam glared at her, somehow believing that his anger might make an impression on her. "Where's my brother?"

Frigg eyed him in return. "I already told you, Sam. He left. He said he didn't want to get you into more trouble and ..."

"Bullshit!" he snapped. He was angry because he was scared. It dawned on him that her ministrations were draining him. He felt weak, feeble, tired and he was beginning to suspect that the headache was her doing in some way. But if there was one thing he knew for sure, then it was that Dean wouldn't leave him, no matter what. Dean didn't leave. He stuck around and bullied him until he saw things Dean's way. "My brother wouldn't leave me like this. Not without an explanation."

This earned him a sigh. She stepped up to him. "Calm down, Sam. I know it's hard for you to believe that your brother would do this, but he did. And that's all there is to it. If you don't believe me, call him," she said. Her tone had an undercurrent of hurt in it and he realized that she was playing him. She was stringing him along and he had fallen for it before. But not any more.

"Don't tell me to calm down. I can't calm down," he snapped and tried to sidestep her to get to his phone. He needed to call Dean, needed to get through to his brother and hear this from him. But Frigg planted both hands on his chest, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"I can calm you down," she said, her tone suddenly sensual. It almost vibrated. He could feel it translating from her hands into his chest.

He grabbed her wrists and pushed her hands back, then pulled back a step. "Get off me," he growled and again tried to sidestep her, but she once again stopped him by stepping in his way.

"I don't think so," she said. Her expression had turned a little stony and she didn't even bat an eyelash when she gave him a shove that sent him reeling backward until he stumbled into the bed and sat down hard on it. "You're mine. You might as well reap what you can from it."

He stared at her. "You're nuts," he said and tried to get up, but she moved with lighting speed, covering the distance between them in a flash, and shoved him back down. "Stop that. I need to call Dean."

"Later," she said, her tone as stony as her expression. She grabbed his chin with one hand and pulled him back to his feet, her grip vice-like. "Right now, you're going to give me what I need."

He grabbed her wrist with both hands, intent on getting her to back off. He sure as hell was in no mood for any close encounters with her. "No," he snapped, but realized instantly that he couldn't even shift her hand a fraction of an inch. "Let go of me," he warned.

"Or what? You'll hit me?" she asked and smirked. It was just about the coldest expression he'd ever seen. She shoved him again, this time landing him on the bed on his back. He flexed his jaw and tried to sit up, but she pushed him back again, dropping down on one knee on the bed. "Stay," she told him, her tone cold.

"You can't make me." He knew he was in over his head, knew that she wasn't what he had wanted to believe. Somehow she had influenced him, playing innocent, playing unenlightened. And the worst was that she could read his mind. It would make it downright impossible for him to plan a way out of this.

"Oh, but I think I can make you," she cooed and smiled coldly.

"Where's Dean? What did you do to him?" The fear that she might have killed his brother rippled through him. He thought he would know if something bad had happened to Dean, but he had no real sense of it right now.

"Don't worry about him now, sweety," she said and planted one hand on his chest when he again tried to sit up. "That little whore started this path, you know. I realize that you tried to talk her out of it, but like a devout little follower, she wouldn't listen to you, would she? It's so easy to instill complete obedience in weak minds. Like your father did in your brother. Dean never really was an individual, was he? He was more like a puppet on a string, doing exactly what daddy wanted him to do. But hey. Whatever floats your boat, right?"

"Shut up," he snarled. "You don't know anything about my brother."

"I know everything. It's all there, in your head," she disagreed and tapped a finger against his brow. "But, enough talking. I need what you've got to maintain this shape. Human bodies are so damned frail. It's hard for them to contain the essence of a goddess."

Instead of trying to sit up again, he pulled himself backward in an attempt to get away from her, although he was fairly confident in the assumption that she had telekinetic powers as well. As if to prove the point, she stopped his backward motion with the wave of one hand. An invisible weight suddenly slammed into him, knocking him back down on the mattress and making escape impossible.

"Don't try to get away from me, boy. You can't," she said, still smiling.

"Why are you doing this?" he rasped, barely able to speak with the pressure she put on him.

She eyed him. "Enough talk," she repeated and released the pressure.

He sucked in a lung full of air. "Where is Dean?"

Her eyes darkened and she leaned in over him, her expression anything but pleased. "I said enough talk," she snarled and placed a hand flat on his chest.

It felt like she was touching a live wire to his chest and it sent him into a cramp-like state where every damned muscle in his body contracted, arching him off the bed, his fingers clawing ineffectively at the covers under him. It hurt like hell, but he couldn't scream. His jaw was locked too tightly.

When she finally stopped the assault, he nearly collapsed. Gasping for breath, every fiber tingling with the aftereffect, he allowed himself a moment to regain his composure while a plan began to take shape. If he fought her, she was going to kill him or incapacitate him. There was no doubt in his mind about that. So he needed to go about this differently. He was gonna have to put up with whatever she had in mind next and do so without opposing her. And as soon as he could see his chance, he had to get the hell out.

She made a move with one hand and he was pulled completely up on the bed by unseen forces. He lashed out for the head of the bed, wove his fingers into the white-painted metal grid and pulled himself upward a little.

"That's better," she said. "Now, let's get busy, shall we?" she added with a smirk and traced the tip of her right index finger over his chest toward the waistband of his boxers.

He swallowed, barely preventing a grimace. This was definitely the last thing he wanted to do. He needed to get out of here and find his brother as fast as possible, but as long as she was hellbent on this, there was no way out of it.

And hellbent she was. It made him think she had to be a demon, something he could exorcize. He closed his eyes when she pulled his boxers down, his grip on the grating behind him tightening enough to draw blood. He tried to distract himself, tried to ignore what was going on, but she was amazingly gentle at first and quickly got a rise out of him. In part he felt betrayed by his own body, but he needed to focus on what had to happen afterward. He couldn't consciously focus on it, though.

She closed her lips around him and he jerked at the feel of her tongue against his already straining erection. He wanted nothing more than to get the hell out, get the hell away from her. She applied too much suction at first and he nearly went through the roof with a long-winded gasp that bordered on a whimper. 'Keep that up and I'll be done in about two minutes,' he thought aggressively and fought back the urge to kick her. His position was too vulnerable right now. She could hurt him severely just by tightening her jaw. She would hurt him. He had no doubt that she could inflict injuries that would have him crawling to get anywhere and he couldn't allow that. He had to subdue his disgust and go with the flow right now. He had never been good at switching off his thoughts and had often wondered if anyone really could do that. He couldn't even idle. Even when he sat and stared into space, his mind was running a mile a minute.

She circled her thumb and index finger around the base of his dick and swallowed him whole. The tip of it actually brushed against the back of her throat and he moaned despite himself. He hated her guts right now, feared her more than anything, but man this felt like nothing he'd ever tried before. She went down on him like a pro, ran her tongue up the back of his straining erection when she pulled back up again, while racking her teeth lightly over the front, reminding him how precariously close he was to having a severely painful encounter with her if he didn't play ball.

Within minutes he was lathered in sweat, his face pressed into his right upper arm while he was trying to both hate her and go with the flow. His body hummed in tact with every move she made and he had the feeling this was more than just sex, more than just very, very good sex. She was sucking on his life force more than anything and if he allowed it to continue, if he let her do this to him again, he knew she would suck him dry, figuratively speaking. In a sense she was a succubus, but there was more to her than that.

He moaned, his grip on the grating behind him painfully hard, his breath coming in labored gasps. He wasn't about to tell her to slow down or to hold back for a minute. This wasn't something he wanted dragged out for long. Just long enough for it to do whatever it did to her so he could use her subsequent need for sleep to get the hell out of Dodge and hopefully find his brother on the way.

Somehow, she dragged it out, though. The threshold between painfully good and just painful was passed somewhere along the line and he wanted to come, wanted to get the release, but he couldn't. He wasn't trying to hold back, but something forced him to, something was holding him back and her ministrations became more violent, more angry after a bit. He went from moaning with guilty pleasure to gasping at the painful pull she put on him. He was sore already and sweating like a damned pig and he reached the point where he started considering to beg her to stop, to beg her to please get it over with, when she suddenly raised her head and released his throbbing cock.

He shifted, tried to will himself to come, but nothing happened. The pressure was high, but there was no release in sight. She pulled his shirt, which she had been wearing, up over her head and threw it aside, then slid her hands up over his stomach to his chest and leaned in close. "This doesn't have to hurt, you know. It can be quite pleasant for you," she said, her voice husky with unbridled desire.

He refrained from answering that. All he could think of was release. He needed it so desperately and she wouldn't let him have it.

She smirked, grabbed his straining cock harshly and guided him home, pushed down on him slowly and he almost whimpered in response. She rode him hard, kept dragging it out, and he was gasping for breath, writhing beneath her with every thrust because it hurt. It had gone from being sore to being damned painful and tears mingled with the sweat rolling down his face, but even though he was free to move as he wanted to, he did nothing to stop her. All he did was beg for it to be over, silently, in his mind.

And then she suddenly stopped moving and that was actually worse right now. He squinted at her, released the grating with one hand to wipe away sweat from his eyes, while he tried to determine what the hell she was waiting for. "Touch me," she said.

It was a simple request, really, but he didn't want to. He wanted this to be over with so he could get the hell away from her. And then it suddenly hit him that she so far hadn't responded to any of his rebellious thoughts. And most of them had been out in the open already. He narrowed his eyes a little, considered her request, her demand, and sneered. He couldn't help it.

Her eyes darkened. "I want you actively involved. Right now," she snarled, no longer so pretty when her face was twisted with anger like that.

The thought of having to continue this torture willfully made him nearly gag. God, he was so sore he was sure he was bleeding and the thought of having to continue the chafing of his own accord was sickening. "I can't," he rasped. "Please."

Her features evened and a vicious smile curled her lips. "Of course you can, lover," she cooed. "You won't come until you do."

Again he wished desperately that he had memorized the exorcism rites. 'Suck it up', he reprimanded himself. The sooner he got on with things, the sooner she would fall asleep. She had fallen asleep last night and had slept soundly until this morning from what he knew. On the other hand, so had he. But he was going to make damned sure that didn't happen now and the soreness was going to aide him in that. The more sore he was, the more likely it was that he wouldn't fall asleep once this torture session was over.

"Okay," he whispered and nodded once. He peeled his fingers off the grating and slipped both hands onto her sweat-slick thighs. The look in her eyes changed. He turned his attention to his hands instead of watching her face and slid them upward, tightening his grip on her flesh. She didn't seem to mind and he put a little more pressure into it, still without any response from her other than a low moan. She obviously liked it rough. Then again, this wasn't her body. She probably didn't care if it got hurt. Unless she wasn't a demon? Maybe she couldn't body-hop like demons could? That would make life easier when it came to getting rid of her and he was working on a plan. Whether it would work was a different matter, but he couldn't focus on that now.

He grabbed her around the waist and flipped her over on her back without ever pulling out of her. She wrapped her legs around him and slipped her hands up on his face. He braced himself with one hand on the mattress, slipped the other under the small of her back and levered her upward a bit. If he couldn't avoid the pain this was causing him, he was going to give some back. He moved slowly but harshly at first, driving into her with enough force that it would have been very uncomfortable for a normal woman. But she moaned and arched her back, met him halfway, and it increased the power of his thrusts.

Despite the fatigue that tugged at his senses and the burning pain from his dick, he sped it up, rammed into her like there was no damned tomorrow, his teeth grinding together with every move, his eyes half closed to shield himself from her probing eyes. And the need to blow his load grew with every damned move. He grunted with the effort of keeping his pain under wraps. It wasn't hard to fake the arousal and it struck him hard that this situation in a way turned him on. That was so many ways of messed up that he nearly chuckled manically. But at the same time it was no laughing matter.

Teetering on an edge she wouldn't let him fall from, he chomped down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood while every muscle in his body vibrated and strained and he felt like he was going to blow something if she didn't give in soon. When he felt the first ripple of her impending climax, he almost yelped. The clench of her abdominal muscles was so tight, he almost couldn't move for a second. It made him think of a horror comic he had once read, after he had discovered that girls weren't icky and a while before he had actually had real sex for the first time. He had been morbidly fascinated by the implications of drawn violent sex. Reading it had given him a hard on the size of the damned Eiffel Tower and back then he had praised his lucky stars that neither dad nor Dean had been aware of the embarrassment.

He had picked the comic up in a store somewhere, fascinated by the crude yet obvious monster depicted on the front page. A succubus, a female demon that violated men in their sleep for the means of getting their semen. But this succubus had been more extreme, the imagination of the author had obviously run away with him when he had done the drawings. This succubus had teeth in her vagina and she had sliced the guy's dick right off while having sex with him. The closer she got to climaxing, the more those teeth had poked out, first scraping against the guy's dick, then ripping it open, until finally, when he blew his load, his dick was cut clean off.

He remembered being terrified and he remembered his jittery fear the first time they had gone up against a succubus. Hell, they'd only ever gone up against one and he had been scared shitless without having the balls to tell neither dad nor Dean why this specific hunt had him up in arms. He'd only been fifteen at the time and the comic had been fresh in his memory. He had burned the damned thing after they got back to the motel apartment they had stayed at back then. He had salted and burned it and hadn't slept the night after and dad had been furious with him for being a wimp without knowing what had caused it.

Frigg reminded him of that creature right now and that old chill that had overcome him at the thought of the succubus rippled through him again, irrational as it was. But he kept going, shut his eyes tight and rammed into her again and again until she climaxed and allowed him the same.

The release was bitter-sweet. It was liberating, but also exceedingly painful and he couldn't keep the whimper at bay. Actually, it was more like an all-out groan of agony. He clawed his fingers into the mattress, while his arms jittered dangerously. The fatigue swept him in the wake of the release and nearly brought him down, but he couldn't let it. He needed to stay awake desperately.

With his eyes closed, he pulled out of her, barely preventing another groan of agony, and pushed up on his hands and knees to get off the bed.

Before he could get any further, though, her hand slipped behind his neck and held him back. "Where are you going?" she asked, her voice sleepy.

"Bathroom," he rasped and met her eyes while clearing his mind of all thoughts for a moment.

She squinted at him for a second, then released him and closed her eyes.

He pulled back off the bed, grabbed his boxers and made his way over to the bathroom. Inside, he closed the door and leaned back against it, letting the cool wood sooth his burning skin for a moment. Almost afraid to, he glanced down himself and grimaced and the redness of his dick. He would have to be careful to avoid any kind of arousal for a while.

The urge to wash her smell off him was overwhelming and he stumbled into the shower stall. The shower was the quickest he'd ever had and all while he was standing under the spray, his hands braced against the tiles, he feared she was going to come looking for him. But she didn't and when he finally reemerged, she was still sleeping.

Intent on getting out, well aware that it was his only chance, he picked up his jeans and shimmied into them, carefully avoiding contact with his crotch for now. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, then stuck his bare feet into his sneakers, all the while keeping an eye on the sleeping monstrosity disguised as a girl.

The fear of her waking up was what kept him going right now and he sucked all the energy out of it that he could. He backed up to the chair where his duffle was, grabbed his phone lying on top of it and stuffed it into one pocket, then grabbed the duffle and his jacket and backed up to the door. And still she hadn't woken up.

Too aware of potential failure to feel any triumph at the situation, his heart fluttered in his chest. With his luck at the moment, he wasn't likely to get further than the parking lot before she caught up to him, but he had to take the risk. As carefully as he could, he opened the door, stepped outside and closed it again just as silently. With his heart in his throat, he turned and hurried down the steps from the outside balcony running the length of the building and stopped briefly to take a look around. He needed a car. His eyes settled on one just next to the stairs, but he dropped the idea instantly. Too close to the motel. He needed to find something out of the way.


Page 8

Sam couldn't move. Not even an inch. He struggled against the ties, iron shackles latched around his wrists and ankles too tight, the chains attached to them taunt enough to make him feel like he was tied to a damned rack. The dais beneath him was just as long as him, which left his arms bent over the edge at a painful angle. The rock beneath him was covered by a flimsy sheet that did nothing for warmth, but at least the air in this tiny cave was warmed up by the torches bathing it in a flickering orange-yellow glow. The only entrance was covered by a heavy curtain, which helped keep the warm air in. But he was still cold. And he was still sore like hell. He feared the worst at this point, feared that this was it, that the blood sacrifice would take place in this stupid little cave. And a part of him couldn't stop blaming Dean for this. He knew it wasn't fair, knew it wasn't true, but there was that part of him that was petty and childish, the part that needed someone to blame, the part that was also screaming for Dean to get him the hell out of here.

With a grunt of frustration, he tried again to somehow get out of the shackles, but without luck. Any greater effort he put into straining his arms nearly made his shoulders cramp up and that was really the last thing he needed right now after the pummeling he'd taken in that other cave. Baseball bats were not his favorite items to be beaten up with.

A sudden sound made him stop his attempts to break free and focus on the curtain covering the entrance. It shifted a little and then was pulled aside to admit a young woman into the cave. He spent a second just staring at her. He had expected the cloaked guys or the guy with the headgear. This girl looked no older than sixteen. She was dressed in a long, white gown that was almost transparent and he immediately averted his eyes because it sure looked like she didn't have anything on underneath. But he watched her from the corner of his eyes.

She released the curtain, which fell back into place, and stepped closer, her movements cautious. She didn't look at him, kept her gaze firmly on the floor, but what made this whole situation weird was that she was smiling. She looked like someone had just given her the best gift ever. In her hands, she carried some kind of bundle, and after a moment she put it down on the floor and knelt down on it. She folded her hands and kept her gaze on the floor.

Sam shifted a little, focused on her face and wished she would look him in the eye. If he could gain eye contact with her, he might be able to get through to her. With a furtive glance toward the curtain, he raised his head a little. "Hey," he said quietly. But she didn't look up. Instead she drew in a deep breath and let it out again slowly, then tilted her head backward and gazed up at the ceiling.

"Heavenly mother," she said, her tone timid and a little bit shaky. "I kneel before you today to offer you this vessel so that you may come amongst us and guide us."

Vessel? That didn't sound good. "Hey," he tried again.

She glanced briefly at him, then closed her eyes for a second before directing her gaze toward the ceiling again. "As instructed by the good book, I lay down my life for you," she continued and Sam felt himself pale a little. She was the sacrifice. They were going to sacrifice this girl, this kid, spill her blood in the name of this twisted goddess and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it physically.

"You don't have to," he tried.

She paused, then tilted her head forward a little and eyed him.

"You don't have to do this. Nobody should force you to do this," he continued. Now that he had her attention, he had to make the best of it. "I know you've probably been told that this is an honor, but you don't have to sacrifice your life like this."

She stared at him, her blue eyes wide, her pupils expanded. But she didn't give off an air of fear. She seemed more excited than nervous. She seemed to consider his words for a moment, then shook her head lightly and closed her eyes once more. "I offer you my body and my place among my people. I beg of you to accept my offering in the shape of my blood."

If he had to watch them carve her heart out of her chest, he would lose it. He again tried to break free and put a little more effort into it. The only thing this gave him was that he nearly managed to dislocate his left shoulder in the process and he stopped trying with a hiss. Grinding his teeth together, he tried to force his shoulder to relax enough to avert a full-blown cramp, and slowly the tense muscle relaxed again.

The girl was eying him curiously for a second, then she spread out her arms, palms facing upwards. "Accept my purity as a sign of my faith, holy mother," she prayed on.

Sam froze and stared at her. What had she just said? "What?"

"May my blood mingling with the blood of my first and only lover grant you access to this world and establish you among your followers, who so desperately need your guidance, holy mother. Please, hear me. Accept my offering." She clasped her hands in front of her again and dropped her head for a moment, then rose to her feet and focused on Sam. But her gaze didn't even get near his face.

'Oh shit,' he thought and sent a quick look around the cave as if some means of his escape had suddenly magically appeared. This thing had just taken a very weird turn. She obviously wasn't going to be a virgin sacrifice, which in and off itself was disturbing enough. But since she was in here with him and he was secured in such a way that he could barely move, he could only assume what her words meant. And he couldn't let that happen.

He sent a glance toward the curtain, wishing desperately that Dean would come barging in right now and save the day. But nothing happened. Nervous all of a sudden, he chomped down on his lower lip for a second while thoughts hurtled aimlessly through his head. "Don't do this," he finally said and focused on her again. "Please. You don't have to. This is not the way you should ... experience your first time."

Her gaze shifted up to his face and she met his eyes. What he saw in hers was burning determination and it scared him. "My first ... time?" She sounded curious, like his words made little sense to her.

"Look, this is ridiculous. You don't have to die for this. You're what? Sixteen? You haven't even lived yet," Sam tried, desperate to distract her away from what he thought she was going to do next.

"I have come of age," she countered, her tone hard. "And I am quite capable of making my own decisions. It is an honor to serve our goddess. And mine is the greatest honor."

He blinked, a little confounded by such blind faith. "No, it's not an honor. It's insane. You've been brainwashed into thinking your life has to end now. But it doesn't. You don't have to die. You can have a great life."

"There is nothing greater than serving our goddess. There is no greater honor than laying down my life for her," the girl persisted.

Fanatics were dangerous at the best of times and this girl sure seemed fanatical to him. "Listen to me, okay? Just ... listen for a moment. I'm not telling you what to do, but this isn't the way. You're too young to die. These people ... they don't know what the hell they're doing. It's not right to kill others in the name of some goddess. It's not right that you should die because these fanatics think it's the only way to satisfy a god."

A frown slipped over her brow. "You are a heretic. What do you know of our ways?" she asked angrily. "It is not your place to question the goddess, infidel."

Okay, getting through to her seemed downright impossible right now, so he needed to turn this around and somehow arouse her compassion, if she had any. "Why do I have to die for your faith? I don't believe in your goddess and I don't want to die. This is not something I have chosen. I'm being forced into this. I don't want to do this. Please."

The frown smoothed out and she pursed her lips, then smiled. "You are being given the greatest honor there is. Together we will pave the way for the goddess to come among us. You should be proud. It does not matter if you believe. The goddess is great and compassionate. She embraces all that come to her this way," she stated, her gaze now fixed on his abdomen and despite the chill of the rock beneath him, he started to sweat. Embarrassed was just a word at this point. What he felt was mortified.

She settled down next to him and placed a hand gingerly on his stomach, just above the waistband of his shorts, which made him suck in a breath. "Come on, don't do this. Please. Okay? Just ... stop and think about it. Just listen to me," he pleaded.

Her expression revealed that she was thinking about it and he hoped and prayed that she was considering how to get out of this. But, on the other hand, Dean was right. As he had observed already, religious fanatics were dangerous at the best of times and he really had no reason to believe this girl was really that different from the cloaked men. The fact that she was in here alone, that she was taking these steps without being ushered onward, was enough to prove her fanaticism.

He shook his head and yanked at the chains when she pushed her fingers under the waistband of his shorts. "No," he hissed. "Stop this. Right now," he demanded, hoping somehow that getting angry with her might make a difference. "What you're doing is wrong. Don't ..."

She sighed, took a hold with both hands and pulled his shorts down. She briefly focused on the wall across from where she was sitting before her gaze slid back down to his crotch. He could honestly say that he had never been less turned on than he was right now. The fact that he was being forced into this, had been beaten and tied down, made him anything but a willing participant in this craziness and all he could think of was that he needed someone to put a stop to this right now, while another part of him was mortally embarrassed. He didn't in general have an issue with nudity, but this was something totally different.

In desperation, he tried to shift away from her, but could only move half an inch or so. "Don't do this. Please. I'm begging here, okay?" he tried, but she ignored him. Whatever she'd had to say had been said and that was it.

She licked her lips, a nervous gesture more than anything else, and he hoped she was having second thoughts. If she really was a virgin, chances were that she had no idea how to approach this.

After a moment, she raised her right hand, fingers spread out, and slowly lowered it until her palm touched him. Despite the way he felt about this whole situation, her touch was nearly electric and he had to focus on ignoring it. 'I'm not gonna respond to this,' he thought to himself and began to repeat that sentence like a mantra in his mind. Her fingers closed lightly around him, then tightened a little and his mantra was interrupted by a surge of energy rippling through him as the more primitive side of his brain began to take notice.

She looked very concentrated, like she was trying to remember a text on how to do this, then slowly began to move her hand. She didn't look him in the face even once and he figured the time for talking was done.

Yet he had to try once more. "Please, don't ... do this," he rasped. His voice had suddenly become very unsteady. Every move she made with her hand sent a jolt of sexual energy through him, making it damned hard for him to try and ignore this. How the hell could he? He hadn't been laid in ages and this was definitely not the way he had envisioned it.

He clamped his teeth together and tried to force himself to think of things that would definitely be a turn-off and for a moment they worked. But his body betrayed him when her handling of him became a little rough. "Don't ... that hurts," he gasped.

Her movement stilled for a second, then she picked it up again, her grip harder, her movements more jerky. He clenched his hands into fists and let his head drop back down on the dais. The impact hurt a little, but did nothing to still his by now raging libido.

As it were, this girl had probably been instructed on how to get a rise out of a guy and tense situations like this with disaster looming at the horizon had an odd influence on him sometimes. He groaned through clenched teeth, while alternating between feeling disgusted and strongly turned on. His moral side was appalled, his basic instincts in full-on sex mode and nothing he tried to conjure up in his mind did anything to dissuade his baser side from overruling all sense and order.

Even though her ministrations were anything but soft-handed, she performed her duty with conviction and ardor, and he hardened quickly in her hand, much to his dismay. He was appalled by the fact that he couldn't control himself better than this, that he had that little say in the matter when it came to his own body.

And then she suddenly stopped. His breathing had become rather shallow and her sudden withdrawal had him sucking in air while he was trying to take back control and undo what she had done. What he mostly needed was a cold shower right now, but since that wasn't going to happen, he would just have to focus on things that would kill his libido. Before he could come up with something effective, she rose, climbed up on the dais with him and placed a foot on either side of his hips.

"No, please," he rasped, desperate for her not to carry through with this.

But, like before, she wasn't listening to him any more. She pulled her skirt up to her knees, then sank down on them, where after she arranged the skirt of the dress so it wouldn't get in the way.

The feel of the fabric brushing over his thighs and stomach did nothing to help him gain any margin of control over his raging hormones. On the contrary. The soft brush of the fabric raised his temperature and upped the feeling of lust that was pounding through him with every beat of his heart, every thump of his pulse.

She shifted one hand behind her and he almost couldn't keep a whimper at bay when her hand closed painfully hard on him. He pulled at the chains holding him, still to no avail, while she shoved her other hand under her skirt, her expression one of concentration. Under other circumstances, this would probably have been comical, but right now it was no laughing matter. This whole thing went so much against his grain, he couldn't even begin to ridicule it.

After a moment, she lowered herself and with a bit of uncertainty on her part, guided him home. She flinched when she pushed down on him, but seemed otherwise unaffected by it. This was something she truly believed she had to do. She wasn't nervous, she was determined and he could feel that in how she moved and handled him.

He fought the effects this had on him as best he could, but since he could do nothing to alleviate the situation, he just had to go with the flow. Of course, it was hard to concentrate on anything else with her moving the way she did. Inexperienced, she used far more strength than she needed to and it chafed him. It went from being marginally pleasant yet rudely unacceptable to being a marginally painful experience that on the other hand did nothing to cool his libido.

In the hope that she would tire first or wouldn't know how this was supposed to end, he held back as much as he could, although it got harder with every move she made. Despite the chilled stone beneath him, he was sweating like hell. And so was she. Her flimsy dress started to cling to her upper body, making her breasts all the more visible, and there was no doubt whatsoever that she was turned on. And with every thrust she brought him closer to the breaking point. Fully aware that talking would do nothing, he kept his mouth shut while desperately trying to focus on something that might stop this, but he also knew that he was too far gone right now to stop.

Whatever they had taught her about this act, they probably hadn't prepared her for the fact that she might like it and there was no question about that she did at this point. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her movements were getting more jerky and all he could do was try to weather the storm without making a sound. Now and than she braced herself against the dais beneath them, but the stone was obviously too cold and she straightened up again seconds later. She did this a couple of times until she suddenly settled her now icy palms on his stomach and that sort of tipped him over the edge.

He couldn't hold back any more and she was close to the edge herself. Her inexperience in this field made her come at the same time as him and her fingers dug into the tender skin of his stomach, making him flinch. To her, he was a means to an end and he could honestly admit that he had never experienced anything more demeaning than this. He didn't blame her, though. It wasn't her fault that she had been brainwashed from day one to believe that she had to do things like this to please some deranged goddess her parents believed in. It made little difference to how he felt, though. Knowing that she was just another mindless drone incapable of independent thought did little for his self-esteem right now.

The very moment she was done, she got off him and climbed off the dais to grab the bundle she had knelt on earlier and unfolded it. It turned out to be a towel. She used it to wipe him clean, her movements careless, like she was wiping dust from furniture, then she pulled his shorts up again before wiping herself down. She didn't hesitate and still didn't look at him and the moment she was done, she threw the towel aside and left the cave without looking back.

Sam watched her go without a word. What could he say to her, after all? She had made it very clear what she thought was important and that was that. There was nothing to be gained by talking to her, but it still burned him. On top of having had the crap beaten out of him, he now had to wrestle with this too? "Shit", he whispered hoarsely and let his head drop. The impact with the rock beneath him was more painful than the first time he had done it and it distracted him a little from the insanity of this case. At the same time he couldn't help wondering if Dean wouldn't have dealt better with this. Whatever these bastards had in store for him, it had better be over quickly so he could stop feeling this way.

He wasn't left alone for long, though. Moments later, the curtain was pulled aside and the six cloaked men came filing in and positioned themselves around him. Again four of them held him down while the last two released him from the shackles, then they lifted him up and carried him out of the cave, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was bucking and twisting against their hold as much as he possibly could. Not that it made any difference, of course.


Dean had no idea how long he had been an observer to the goings-ons in the cavern, but a sudden burst of activity directed everybody's attention toward the opening where the girl had vanished earlier. Six men turned up, carrying his brother, who was quite obviously doing fairly okay if the fight he was putting up was anything to go by. Unfortunately, nothing Sam did seemed to loosen the hold of the men carrying him.

Fighting unbreakable bonds, Dean put his back into it with the same result as before and only stopped when he met Sam's almost frantic eyes when they carried him past Dean. "Dean," he rasped. He sounded rattled.

By now well aware that the shackles holding him were relentless, Dean conserved his energy while watching intently. The six guys had a lot of trouble securing Sam to the altar and that made Dean grin tightly. But it was a short-lived sense of satisfaction, because he generally thought he knew what came next and it shoved him pretty close to the edge of panic.

All the participants in this little shindig of a party settled down the moment Sam was secured. They had the edacity to gag him as well and he was tied down pretty tight, leaving him little room to move.

The guy with the headgear stood at the rostrum, fiddling with his books, while the rest of those cloaked clowns were settling down on the rugs around the bonfire, still without saying a word.

A moment later the girl from earlier came back out. This time she had a veil over her face and she knelt down on the ground in front of the altar while Head Honcho took up position on the other side. He raised his arms and everybody's attention was on him.

"Brothers and sisters," he said. His voice was rusty and Dean figured he probably either drank or smoked too much. Maybe both. "We are gathered here today to call upon our holy mother for guidance. We have come together to ask for her help. And, for the first time, we are going to ask her to join us in our midst."

Dean shifted his attention to the audience and noted that every single one of them had their hands folded and their eyes glued to Head Honcho.

"It takes a lot of faith and we must prove ourselves worthy of her today more than ever before," Head Honcho continued. "Our dear Alicia will take her rightful place among the stars today and offer her shell as a new home for our holy mother."

Here, Head Honcho reached underneath the altar and retrieved a damned big silver knife. The blade was curved and precious stones glittered on the hilt in the flickering light of the many torches and the bonfire. Dean yanked at his chains yet again. He did not want a religious fanatic holding a big-assed knife like that this close to his brother.

Head Honcho held the knife up with both hands. "Sanctify this knife so it may bring our holy mother amongst us," he chanted, then gripped it lightly in one hand and stepped around the altar to where the girl, Alicia, was kneeling. He stopped in front of her and smiled warmly at her. "Are you prepared to meet your goddess, Alicia?"

Sam was putting up one hell of a fight, trying to say something around the gag in his mouth, and Dean felt for the kid. Sam had always had issues about the innocent being sacrificed and this would be no different. On top of that he had a first row seat to this event and that obviously didn't sit well with him. For a moment, Sam met Dean's gaze, then shifted his attention back to the scene unfolding on the main floor of the cavern.

"Yes, father," Alicia replied and tilted her head back.

Head Honcho was either the girl's real father or viewed as a priest in town. Either way, Dean felt almost physically sick at the thought of watching this girl die for something as insane as this. But there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't break his ties and heaven knew he had tried already.

"This is the greatest honor any of us can achieve," Head Honcho proclaimed in a solemn voice, then laid one hand on Alicia's brow to press her head back further and cut her throat with the other.

The blood cascaded from the wound, down the front of her dress, soaking through the veil still covering her, and she emitted a gargling sound, her folded hands twitching. In part, Dean had to admire the strength of her faith. Even now, while she was bleeding out like a slaughtered cow, she remained on her knees and her hands remained folded.

Head Honcho had thrown his head back and kept muttering words too low for Dean to hear, but considering the fact that Sam had stopped moving and was staring at the blatant murder of Alicia with wide eyes suggested that he could hear what the guy was saying.

The blood pooled around Head Honcho's feet, then began to run toward the bonfire in the middle in a fairly straight line. Head Honcho lowered Alicia to the ground, arranging her so that the blood continued to pump out of her in the right direction. Then he straightened up again and held the knife aloft. "Behold your vessel, holy mother. Join us and we shall offer you a sacrifice of blood and flesh."

Dean shifted his gaze to Sam, who had paled considerably, and Dean swore a silent vengeance on anything and anybody that got too close to his brother. His frustration knew no bounds, nor did his anger, but neither gave him enough strength to break the shackles that held him and it slowly began to dawn on him that he couldn't save Sam. He couldn't save himself either, but that was beyond the point. The only thing that mattered to him was Sam and Head Honcho was about to plunge a knife into him.

Ignoring the pain it caused his already raw wrists, Dean put his back into trying to dislodge the anchoring of the chains while the smell of boiling blood reached his nose. Alicia's blood had reached the bonfire and the smell was nauseating. Intent on breaking free even if it cost him a damned limb, he kept pulling, hoping that maybe he could at least get one hand out of these damned shackles, but no matter how he tried, all he managed was to hurt himself further.

"Holy mother," Head Honcho proclaimed. He had retaken his position by the altar while Sam was frantically trying to break free too. "Join us. We beg of you." Head Honcho placed the knife on the altar next to Sam, then folded his hands and dropped his chin to his chest to pray silently. And the rest of the congregation followed suit.

For a long moment nothing at all happened. Everybody but Dean and Sam were engrossed in whatever they hoped would happen, which gave Dean a little more time to continue his futile fight against his bonds.

Then a sudden sigh rippling through the congregation brought him to a stop. He focused on the kneeling people. Some had raised their heads, but it was hard to see whether they were looking at something. Those darned masks they all carried obscured their features. Dean shifted his attention back to Sam, who was looking down at the congregation with wide eyes. This again shifted his attention to the body of Alicia and he stopped short when he saw the twitch rippling through her. There was no way she was still alive. She had lost too much blood. But even though she was still twitching at regular intervals.

Then suddenly her body tensed, stretched out and rolled over on her back, stiff as a board. For a long breathless moment nothing more happened and then every single torch along the walls died. The bonfire in the middle dimmed as if something was sucking the air out of the cavern. Then Alicia's body rose, still stiff as a board, to her feet. The blood covering her dress and the veil faded and disappeared and the gaping gash in her throat closed up.

Dean stared at this with a pretty big knot in his stomach. Whatever this was, it wasn't natural, no matter what anyone said. And this possession of a dead body was taking place far too close to his brother.

Throughout this the girl's eyes remained closed and after rising like a damned doll, she remained immobile. The bonfire gained strength again, but none of the torches were relit.

Dean sent a glance up at Head Honcho and realized the guy was just as baffled about this as the rest of the congregation. Something told him that these idiots had never done anything like this before. But then the man seemed to snap out of it. He shook his head lightly, cleared his throat and spread out his arms.

"Welcome, holy mother," he said loudly, his tone a bit shaky. "We offer you a sacrifice of blood and flesh," he added, picked up the knife with both hands and raised it high over his head.

Sam squirmed, his gaze glued to the glittering blade of the knife and Dean yanked hard at the chains, frantic fear taking over from surprise and anger when Head Honcho brought the knife down in a sweeping arch.


Page 4

(G) Being a father means you never stop worrying.

Read more Midnight Ruminations

(PG) Life's a bitch sometimes. Sometimes it's just downright unfair.

Read more Ellen's Journal

(PG-13) The world is a different place for the boys. They still hunt, but it's not exactly big prey, considering what they've been up against before. Life as they knew it comes to an end and they experience a new way of living. But not all is as it appears to be.

Read more Deja Vu

(G) It is the end of days for Dean, time has run out and Dean and Sam are sitting around, waiting for the inevitable, the outcome of that deal.

Read more Deals Within Deals

(PG) A hunt goes wrong, life takes a dark turn and Dean is left teetering on the brink of sanity. But not everything is as it appears to be.

Read more By Any Other Name

(PG) Time's up, the deal is due, but things don't turn out exactly how Dean imagined.

Read more Broken Deals

(G) How did John come about the Impala?

Read more Baby

(PG-13) After watching the season finale (5x22), I just couldn't leave it like that. So this is my take on what might happen.

Read more Aftermath

(G) Over this soul, Hell hath no dominion. Enough said.

Read more Abandon All Hope

(PG-13) In all, the stars are a comfort. Even to a mind unraveled.

Read more In The Dark Of Night

(PG) The boys have moved to our time and are now firemen.

Read more Diary 1

(PG) Vin feels unbreakable and that worries his friends.

Read more Diary 2

(PG-13) How the MAG7 Fire Brigade began.

Read more The Beginning

(PG) Strange lights in the sky at night draw the seven in to investigate. But they seem to have encountered more than they can handle this time around.

Read more Future's Past

(PG-13) Ezra gets in over his head and gets help from an unexpected corner.

Squel to More Than A Friend.

Read more Twisted Luck

(PG) Maude announces her arrival and a surprise for Ezra, which he is none too happy about.

Sequel to Misconceptions.

Read more Conning A Con-Woman

(PG) Bella has decided to stay and Buck turns out to be not so understanding where his little sister is concerned.

Sequel to Bella.

Read more Misconceptions

(PG) Buck has a sister and she has come to Four Corners.

Read more Bella

(PG-13) What could have been. A view on a possible future.

Read more Future Dreams & Nightmares

(PG) Leia is busy, Han is feeling a little neglected and temptation is never far away.

Read more Temptation

(G) In the end, he does remember his mother.

Read more Remembering Mother

(PG) It takes a bad infection for Luke to find love.

Read more The Kalandorian Bug

(PG) A look back at parents long lost.

Read more Ghosts Of The Past

(PG) Revenge is a dish best served cold and Boba Fett is out for revenge.

Read more Ill Weeds Grow Apace

(G) Star Wars IV - A New Hope from Leia's point of view.

Read more From A Certain Point Of View

(G) A certain pirate has certain secrets he hasn't shared.

Read more Keeva

(G) A look back at the childhood of one certain Princess.

Read more Childhood Memories

(G) Fluff and what-ifs and a song stuck in my head. Nothing more.

Read more You Win Again

(PG) Shocked by what she has witnessed, Chiana is reeling. But not all is as it seems.

Read more 5x02 - Life, Liberty & The Peacekeeper Way

(PG-13) Despite the show of force, certain people don't get the point. Peace is not easy to come by for the Moya crew.

Read more 5x01 - Paradise Lost

(PG-13) After Katratzi, things should have looked up. But something unexplained happens that once again throws everything into turmoil.

Read more Wounds Of The Heart

(PG) Grayza's 'treatment' messed John up and Aeryn has been watching him circling the drain for the past year. Enough is enough.

Read more What Lies Beneath

(PG-13) John may be unique in the Uncharted Territories, but it's not always him the bad guys go after.

Read more Up The Creek

(PG) A food-run turns into a life-threatening situation for John and Aeryn has to find a way to help since Zhaan is not on board.

Read more Tread Carefully

(G) Some secrets are just impossible to keep.

Read more Three Blind Mice

(G) How does one say goodbye?

Read more The Last Song

(G) There's only so much a mind can take before it cracks.

Read more The Cat In The Hat

(G) Living in close quarters can sometimes cause frustrations.

Read more Arguments

(G) A long life full of adventure is drawing to a close.

Read more Sunsets

(PG) Still new to each other, John and Aeryn don't quite understand or trust each other yet.

Author's note: Written for the 53. Starburst Challenge on Terra Firma.

Read more Small Things

(PG-13) A supply run turns into something different. Something's not quite right and John and Aeryn are stuck in the middle of it.

Read more Something Wicked This Way Comes

(G) Sometimes, help comes from an unexpected corner.

Read more Spiritual Interlude

(PG-13) Aeryn's back and John is having issues. She knows how to iron them out, though.

Read more Setting Things Straight

(G) Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Read more Revelations

(G) After the fact, John reflects on current events.

Read more Reflections

(NC-17) When things go well, Aeryn gets a little kinky.

Read more Now What?

(PG) Dreams, nightmares and premonitions. Sometimes, they come true.

Read more Naked Like The Moon

(NC-17) Making up can be such sweet misery.

Read more Making Up

(PG) Sometimes, you just have to say what's on your mind before it's too late.

Read more If Tomorrow Never Comes

(G) Sometimes what you dream of isn't what you really want.

Read more Home Sweet Home

(G) At the end of an exicting life, one can only reminisce before letting go.

Read more Home Is Where The Heart Is

(PG) The future may seem bleak, but there are always escapes and second chances.

Part 2 of 3

Read more Happy Endings Are For Fairytales... Or Are They?

(PG) What-ifs and future prospects of a bleaker nature.

Part 1 of 3

Read more Happy Endings Are For Fairytales

(G) Stuck in a bad spot, Aeryn and John have to  resort to extraordinary means to get away.

Read more Getting Away With Murder

(G) The future as it could be and should be.

Read more Days Like These

(G) A slightly different outcome to Aeryn's return to Moya after TalynJohn's death.

Read more Coming To Terms

(G) The musings of a Peacekeeper captain.

Read more Behind Blue Eyes

(G) John's down. It's Christmas back home and his shipmates don't get it.

Read more Christmas Blues

(G) A day in the life of a baby.

Sequel to Silence Is Golden

Read more As Loud As Heaven

(G) Family fluff. Nothing more.

Read more Silence Is Golden

(G) Just a bit of conversation after the end of the war.

Read more And You

(PG-13) When you really love someone, sometimes you have to make big sacrifices.

Read more Altered States

(PG) This is Halloween - UT Style, not your average homey story.

Read more All Hallows Eve

(PG-13) A file with a shady past turns up on Mulder's desk. Naturally, it gets him in trouble.

Read more Begetting Monsters

(PG-13) Sending Mulder to another partner seminar with Scully in tow turns out to be a not so good idea. Trouble just seems to follow him around.

Read more The Seminar

(PG-13) After she left John at the end of Season 3, Aeryn comes back and together John and Aeryn try to find Moya and her crew. In the process, they learn more about each other, John learns a few new lessons about getting by in the UTs and Aeryn learns a little bit more about how to feel.

Read more You Can Never Go Back

(PG-13) Ever see Event Horizon? Well, that movie inspired this tale. It's gruesome in parts, heartbreaking in others. Hurt/comfort on a higher level.

Read more The Vanishing

(G) Who said doing laundry was boring? When you do it the Winchester-way, it's anything but. 

Read more The Sock-Monster

(NC-17) A look back at Stanford and Jess

Read more The Living Years

(PG-13) Grayza doesn't respond too well to the situation John left her in on Arneesk, which leads to a bit of a witch hunt and a not all together pleasant outcome for our favorite human astronaut.

Read more Revenge

(PG) John has made his decision to go after Scorpius, but can he live with the outcome?

Read more Picking Up The Pieces

(PG-13) A run-in with some nasty neighbors changes life in Four Corners for the seven.

Read more More Than A Friend

(NC-17) With less than a month left before Dean's deal comes due, the brothers are thrown into a situation that goes over their heads. A demon dangles Dean's salvation in front of them and Sam has to go out of his way to fulfill the contract that will save his brother from Hell. And all Dean can do is stand by on the sidelines and watch while this new deal tears his brother apart.

Read more Giving It Up

(PG-13) After getting a new partner, Scully and Mulder go on a ghost hunt in a haunted house. Things don’t turn out the way they expect and naturally, Mulder ends up getting hurt.

Read more Ghost

(NC-17) John takes a little trip to a planet called Xata to burn off some energy and runs into way more trouble than he can handle.

Read more From Xata With Love

(PG-13) The race is on to find a solution to the deal and on the way there, Sam and Dean run into someone unexpected.

Read more Finding Grace

(PG) It's not easy being in charge. It's not easy losing friends. It's not easy being attracted to someone you can't have. Nope, O'Neill wasn't having an easy time.

Read more Feelings

(PG-13) A mysterious message sends Mulder in search of his sister yet again, this time in Alaska.

Read more Fear Mountain

(PG-13) Scorpius is hard to kill. But John, as usual, gets in over his head in more ways than one.

Read more Evil Is Who Evil Does

(PG-13) Ruby has Sam in her grasp now and the demon war goes from behind the scenes to full-blown in-your-face warfare with the human race at the losing end while Dean is missing in action. Did everything Sam feared come true? Did he cause his brother's death and send him off to Hell?

Sequel to Finding Grace

Read more But Only Hope

(PG-13) A gruesome murder has Mulder believing old legends while Scully remains skeptical.

Read more Bad Moon Rising

(PG-13) The Alien queen is gone and the Sulaco heads back to Earth. But the reception they get is not quite what Ripley had in mind.

Read more Alien III

(PG-13) A brief moment where John almost slips up while Scorpy is watching and listening and Aeryn is wondering what's wrong.

Read more A Slip Of The Tongue

Any and all stories contained within this site are written just for fun and no money is made from posting them here or anywhere else. Any recognizable characters belong to their original owners. All other characters belong to the authors of the stories. No copyright infringement is intended.

Copyrights of the individual TV-Shows and Movies are:

The X-Files is owned by Ten Thirteen Productions & 20th Century Fox Television

Stargate SG-1 is owned by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Hercules: The Legendary Journeys is created by Christian Williams

Supernatural is owned by Wonderland Sound and Vision & Warner Bros. Television

Farscape is owned by The Jim Henson Company, Nine Network (season 1) & Hallmark Entertainment

Star Wars is owned by Lucasfilm and distributed by 20th Century Fox

Aliens is owned by Brandywine Productions and distributed by 20th Century Fox

The Magnificent Seven was produced by John Watson and distributed by 20th Century Fox Television

(G) Dark thoughts in a dark place. Is this the end?

Read more Darkness Cometh

(PG) Based on an old Star Wars Marvel comic, I adapted this little tale to Farscape. Credits go out to those who figure out which story I'm referring to. :)

Read more A Kindness