The Allure of Darkness

by confusedmoose

Summary:

After the explosion in Midtown, Soldier Boy woke up somewhere else. That place just turned out to be a world where he was nothing more than a fictional character. Turns out, he wasn't the only fictional character trapped in that fake-reality.

Notes:

Thank you for choosing to read my work!
I'd like to let you know that this story has inaccuracies and OOC-ness. When I started writing it, I didn't dwell on details and plan it out carefully or make sure the timelines are correct and corresponding. Just a little whim I acted on. I plan to go over everything at the end and hopefully leave no room for confusion or errors. My OC is a confusing character, I know, but I plan to flesh her out more as time goes on. There's reasons to why she is the way she is and I hope I'll reveal them and write every character out accordingly and understandingly. This story has a strong Supernatural background, but if you power through you'll be just fine without watching it, though it does explain a lot of things. Whole lotta parallels and soul tie stuff. Still figuring that part out myself, so we're all in the same boat here.
Feel free to correct me on any errors or thoughts you have!

Chapter 1

He didn't know what to expect when he regained his consciousness. Hell, he didn't expect to regain it at all, least of all an intake of fresh, clean air. Nothing restraining him, nothing weakening his body or mind, no assholes prodding and torturing him like he was a mere lab rat, protected and studied enough to be deemed the most important thing in that shithole, but not enough to be seen as a man with a soul.

The last thing he remembered was roaming the streets of New York. He felt lost, out of touch and most of all confused. The fuck has he missed? The fuck happened to all the normal people? Why the fuck did everyone look and act weird? Why was it so loud? Who the fuck listened to Russian music in their spare time? In America? That was it. His last memory. Music. Pain. Torture. Light.

Besides his newfound freedom, he also noticed the cold. The cold, rough surface his body was laying on. The patter of soft raindrops, the humidity of the air. The bright- almost blinding light flashing right at him from his side, a few meters away. His hand raised to drag it down his face, a deep yet shaky breath exiting his lungs.

Despite his enhanced senses, he could barely recognise the sound of boots heading right to him. He wasn't used to hearing so much, not after so long. The wind, the grass, the leaves, the animals- insects even. His head started to spin, the momentary peace he felt slowly fading into another heavy pounding in his head.

He barely registered a shadow growing over him, he strained to turn his head towards the source, eyes squinting at the blurry figure. The anonymous person seemed to freeze for a moment, before gathering their senses and quickly kneeling besides him. His vision cleared the slightest bit and all he could see was angel staring back at him, concern seeped into her furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. The light illuminating her frame made the scene all the more heavenly.

His squint slowly lessened and he couldn't do anything but stare at her. He enjoyed the feeling of the woman softly touching his face. A warm, soothing touch. A touch he almost hated and almost slapped away right then and there because it made him feel safe. But at his current state, he couldn't care less, he'd relish in that feeling for as long as he could at this point. The moment that felt like hours to him ended too soon when the woman opened her mouth and spoke only one word.

"Dean?!"

And he was out again like a light.