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09 December 2014 @ 04:42 pm
Army of Cain (Darkness Is Coming) - Blood Ties  

Author: silver ruffian
Category: Twisted Dark AU
Characters: Demon Dean, Sam, Morgan Le Fay, Camille, Castiel, Hannah, Crowley
Pairings: Demon Dean/Morgan Le Fay/ Camille
Rating: R
Summary: Demon Dean encounters legendary Fae sorceress Morgan Le Fay one fateful night. She gives Dean the ability to duplicate himself. Later Dean falls victim to Sam's containment and summoning spell. Which Dean is which? The captured one undergoing the blood cure, or the one leading the others in the assault against Sam, Castiel, Hannah and the other angels in the bunker?

A/N: This is the first of the "Army of Cain" 'verse. Instead of a long multi-chapter fic this 'story will be told in shorter, separate story arcs. Dean's a full-fledged demon in this 'verse. The Righteous Man's pure soul has been twisted and he really likes the disease.

A/N the 2nd: Chapter title and first quote taken from dialogue from Law and Order: Criminal Intent.

And now a HUGE word of thanks: To the very talented beata101. I developed the idea for this 'verse from her stunning "Army of Cain (Darkness Is Coming)" Demon Dean artwork. She coined the phrase "Army of Cain" and I have her permission to use it and the image. I used one of the images as the book cover for this fic here on , but if you want a better look at it and the other piece mosey on over to her art gallery: beata101 at DeviantArt.

Summary: Demon Dean encounters legendary Fae sorceress Morgan Le Fay one fateful night. Later Dean falls victim to Sam's containment and summoning spell. When they administer the blood cure Sam, Castiel and his angels discover to their horror that Dean indeed has "a lot more going (for him) than just demon juice." Twisted AU.

"Bad guys do what good guys dream."

- Detective Robert Goren,

Major Case Squad, Law and Order Criminal Intent

Chapter 1 – the twisted tango of brotherly love

From the IndyStar e-newspaper

Indianapolis, IN


Filed by Leon Abernathy 11:34a.m. EST December 1, 2014

Businessman Leland Owens was abducted by a masked assailant late Sunday night as he returned from an outing with his family. According to witnesses the masked man stepped out of the shadows and forced the victim back into his SUV at gunpoint in the driveway of his home in Wesland Hills. Mr. Owens was later found unconscious hours later at the abandoned Trenary Glassworks plant. His left hand was amputated at the wrist. What was even more curious was the fact that that his attacker took the time to cauterize the wound.

Leland Owens is a respected businessman in the Greater Indianapolis area. In the last decade his real estate holdings have expanded at a phenomenal rate.

Police speculate that the assailant himself was the one who called police and alerted them to the victim's whereabouts, although the reason for that remains unknown. What is known is that Mr. Owens' cell phone was not found at the scene.

Unnamed sources at the hospital indicate that cuts resembling a strange diamond shape pattern were also slashed into the victim's left arm, below his stump. Sources also tell us that Mr. Owens became hysterical when he saw his injuries after he regained consciousness in the ER, ranting and raving that his bill had come due after all.

Police made no further comment.

Leland Owens is listed in extremely critical condition at IU Health Academic Health Center.

Related: Police Chase in Owens' Kidnapping Leads to Dead End

Call Star reporter Leon Abernathy(317) 445-6719. Follow him on Twitter: Leon Abernathy.


Somewhere in Hendricks County, Indiana

The black-eared kite wheeled in the night sky. She had many forms, but the bird one was her favorite. She had many names too; she remembered them all. Kujan was her favorite. In the past those who didn't know any better had labeled her: tengu, changeling, demon, fae.

Kujan was content to allow the ignorant to think whatever the hell they wanted about her. None of it was entirely true, but some of it was.

She spread her wings and soared upwards towards the silvery moon. Seventy feet above the road her beak and wings flapped sharply. One bird exploded into one hundred separate bodies. The new swarm formed a long shimmering ribbon, then dipped into a spiral that twisted and writhed silently in the moonlight above the road.

Sam Winchester never noticed.

The Impala was the only car on this stretch of highway; the big black car growled like an angry thing. The open road, a sense of urgency, the faint copper stench of blood in the air was familiar to Sam. The way his insides churned with adrenaline and tension was the exactly the same as it had been on any other night he'd spent on the road for the past ten years. Everything was the same. But nothing really was.

Leland Owens' voice echoed inside Sam's head.

"-she sent you, didn't she?"

Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His mouth was set in a firm hard line as he stared at the road ahead. He very pointedly ignored the black bag on the bench seat next to him. It was as if Owens' voice had transferred itself into his stolen flesh.

"I have money...you-you don't have to do this -"

Sam's traitor of an imagination was only too happy to replay the details: the deer in headlights look in the man's light grey eyes. The way Owens trembled when he saw the meat cleaver in Sam's gloved hands.

"Oh no, please, nooooo..."

The cleaver made a dull thunk as it sliced through flesh and bone. It was such a small, common noise, actually.

The Impala bounced forward. Damn. A bump in the road. The black bag on the bench seat rolled over until it came to rest against Sam's thigh. Sam's skin prickled. He swore the hand twitched sideways, its fingertips pressing against his jeans through the fabric of the bag. As the Impala resumed its forward motion the black bag rolled back over to the center of the bench seat.

Picking up the bag and tossing it out of the window never occurred to Sam. He never said a word to Owens the entire time. When he looked at the man he saw an objective. A goal. Not flesh and blood, not human, not even when he took Owens' left hand and tended to the wound later.

Metal scraped against pavement. Sam flinched. If he screwed up the undercarriage of the car Dean was gonna kill him when he got him back.

"Sorry," Sam muttered out loud. "Sorry."

"Dude. Chill," A familiar voice rumbled. "It's just a damn car."

Sam blinked. Dean sat relaxed and easy on the bench seat near the window, just as he'd done countless times before.

Dean flicked a sideways glance at him. His eyes were moss green, thank God. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch, Samantha. Apparently your Moose sized brain has gone all Doctor Phil on you. It thinks you need a comforting illusion during this psychotic break of yours." Dean shrugged. "So here I am. Lucky me." The elder brother sounded bored. He turned his head and looked out the window as the dark woods sped by.

Sam glanced at his imaginary brother, then back at the road. Wouldn't do to end up in a ditch or wrapped around a tree, not when he'd come this far. The details seemed right so far: spiky dark blond hair. Faded denim. Purple plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up, black tee. Scuffed brown work boots.

Other details were not so right. They were pretty damn unsettling, actually. Dean wore silver handcuffs, each cuff etched with a devil's trap. Sam didn't want to see that. He wanted Dean back the way he was before that damn Mark of Cain.


Dean looked directly at Sam. Those impossibly long eyelashes blinked. Dean's moss green eyes turned pitch black.

Sam didn't like that at all.

"Hey, don't bitchface me. I'm just a figment of your imagination." Dean glanced down at the cuffs. "Your majorly weird imagination."

Judging by the smirk and that unpleasant twinkle in those black eyes Sam knew that he'd lost control, if he ever had any. This was going to hurt.

Dean spread his hands as wide as the handcuffs would allow. "Speaking of which, you've always had a thing for seeing me handcuffed, right?"


"You sure about that?" Dean purred slyly. "Your brain, your details, college boy."

"Doesn't matter," Sam replied gruffly.

Dean barked laughter, sarcastic and amused. "Yeah, it kinda does. You giving the big chop to that Owens dude back there." Dean glanced down at the black bag on the seat next to him. His smirk widened. He clapped his hands together once, sharply.


"I'm just giving you a hand. You got four now. Your two, ol' Leland's, and mine."

Sam didn't answer.

"And now you're gonna make yourself Brumhilda's bitch just so you can drag me back into the loving bosom of our totally fucked up family." Imaginary Demon Dean sighed and shook his head as he turned back to the window. "You should've let me go."

"I'm not going to."

"Yeah, well, you always were an obsessed bastard. Never could take a hint."

"Shut up."

"When I ditched you back at the bunker that really should've been your first clue."

"I said shut up!" Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter and glared at his private illusion.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at him. "Uh, you do realize that you're talking to yourself, right?"

Sam's bitchface never wavered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Man, this is boring. Never mind. I'm outta here."

Sam blinked. The bench seat by the window was empty.

Damn brain, Sam grumbled to himself. He took his foot off the gas and the Impala slowed. The turn off was up ahead.

Overhead the bird swarm dipped and the black bodies melded into one creature again. The Impala turned onto a dirt road. Kujan followed, gliding through the shadows overhead.

Half a mile up the turn off sat a tiny log cabin tucked away in a small clearing. The wards were strong here, but the owner of the cabin had never encountered a creature like the kite before. The protection she wove was useless against one such as that.

Sam Winchester parked his car, picked up the bag. He walked up to the front door and entered the cabin.

Kujan flew out of the woods just as the door closed shut. She landed atop the roof of the cabin, light as a feather, cocked her sleek brown head to one side and listened. Her black eyes shone in the moonlight.


Sam wasn't surprised that the door to the cabin was unlocked. After all, the place was isolated out in the woods. It would also be a pretty tempting sight for anyone out here on foot. Zatkesis could just sit inside and her new flesh would come to her.

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

Sam switched the bag underneath his right arm. He stepped inside with his left hand on the stake of blessed wood tucked away in his side waistband.

Zatkesis sat at the wooden table in what would have been the kitchen area. The human vessel this time was a large black male, broad-shouldered, nearly as tall as Sam, but still too small to contain the witch's spirit. His clothes were worn and dirty; he was probably some poor homeless bastard who saw the cabin and figured he could crash there for the night. Ink black veins crawled underneath his skin. The eyes were the worst, sunken and shiny silver. The man's skin rippled and crawled underneath his clothes.

The witch made a slight bow. "I am so very glad to see you again, Samuel," she purred. The voice was feminine. "I changed into something more comfortable since you saw me last."

"More comfortable?" Sam huffed. He found it easier to stare at her face despite the fact that something crawled and slithered underneath the man's short kinky hair. God, that looked nasty. Sam settled for staring into her eyes. A ridge of muscle and skin raised up and rolled diagonally over the vessel's chest, across the shoulders and then the back.

"I have to make do," Zatkesis nodded. Sam closed the door behind him. The air inside the cabin reeked with a curious combination of lavender and wet blood. Sam breathed normally. There was no help for it; he was too tired to do otherwise. He walked over to the wooden table in the corner and sat down. Not having to look at the vessel any more than he had to was a definite plus. The inside of the cabin was illuminated by a bright light that filled the place from wall to wall. There were no electric lights as far as Sam could tell. Too bad. He would've welcomed sitting in shadow.

There was a crystal carafe and two goblets on the table.

"May I interest you in a drink?"

Sam shook his head no.

The dark red liquid inside the crystal sparkled. Sam didn't even try to fool himself into thinking it was wine. He knew better.

Zatkesis downed the liquid, placed the goblet on the tabletop.

The brùja laughed.

"What's so damn funny?"

"You Winchesters," she said coyly. "Years ago your father and your older brother searched for me while you were at Stanford. The great John Winchester heard that I possibly had information about Azazel."

"Did you?"

Zatkesis smiled. Her large white teeth were tinted pale red. "Of course. I hid from them. Jumped from body to body. They nearly caught me several times."

"I didn't come here to go over the good old days with you." Sam reached down, picked up the bag next to his chair and tossed the bag on the table.

Zatkesis's fingers shook a little as she reached out and fumbled with the drawstring. She pulled the burlap wrap out, set it on the table. Her fingers shook as she unwrapped it. She gasped when the hand was fully revealed. Light from the overhead lights reflected in the large diamond and ruby ring on the middle finger.

"You said you wanted the ring," Sam said evenly. "And you wanted the flesh."

She ignored him. She lifted the severed hand up with both hands. Her tongue darted out between her lips as she licked at the splatters of blood on the cooling flesh, and then nibbled at the wound at the end of the stump.

Sam grunted. "You want me to come back later? You two need to get a room."

The witch blinked as she came back to herself. She put the hand down and covered it up again. "You're right. Forgive me."

"Let's get on with this. I kept my end of the bargain."

"So you did. Did he scream when you took his hand? Did his eyes widen when you carved my mark into what was left of his arm?"

Sam nodded.

A slow, bloody smile crawled across those bloated features. "Good. My mark will consume him within days. His skin will rot, and so will his internal organs. Leland was one of my most clever students. He never should have defied me like that." She wrapped the hand in the burlap, placed it back into the bag and folded the edges down.

Sam sat there staring at the witch and her vessel. Those silver eyes cleared up. The man blinked, his eyes now dark brown, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. He stared at Sam, blinking in confusion. "Please, mister. Please. Help me. I - I don't know what's going on." He looked around the cabin nervously. "I was on foot. I walked up to this cabin. It was like something made me come here-"

"I can't help you," Sam heard himself say. "Let me talk to Zatkesis."

The man looked startled. "What?"

"You heard me."

The vessel blinked silver again. The witch was back, if she'd ever been gone at all. "So you are sure," she murmured, more to herself than to Sam.

"Sure about what?"

"About your older brother. He is worth the cost?"

The younger Winchester's hazel eyes flashed angrily. "Damn right he's worth it."

"Bear in mind that you will pay another price during the execution of the spell itself. This spell works big and small. It depends on the ties of blood and family and it demands its payment of flesh."

"So you say." Sam leaned forward. "If this doesn't work, I'll come back. And I don't think you'll like it if I do."

"Ah, the bravado of youth. Take no offense, young one. I merely felt obligated to remind you of that again. This is a verbal contract. Consider this conversation the fine print. I also feel I should remind you that you don't have to do this. I can teach you what you need to know, in two days time. You can take that knowledge with you. You will be able to bind and summon your wayward older brother no matter where he is. Or you can go live that normal life you wanted before. You did not search for your brother when he was in Purgatory years ago. Why should this time be any different?"

"How did you -"

"Samuel." Zatkesis said simply, with a slight shake of her head. "Everyone knows."

"I want my brother back, y'hear me?"

"No matter what?"

"No matter what," Sam gritted out.

Zatkesis spread her hands wide. That wide, bloody smile was even more terrible than before. "Then let us begin."


Chapter 2 will be posted this week.

Current Mood: relaxedrelaxed
Current Music: Only the voices inside my head