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Half-Hearted Promises	By : Erinlindsay97 Category: 1 through F > 1-800-MISSING Views: 50 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural or it's characters, I only own the plot and my OCS thank you.

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* Somewhere In Ohio, Ten PM*
“Big brother, I've made it home!” a young woman in her early twenties declared, stepping through the threshold. Fresh from a college interview that might just unlock the gates to Lawrence College and the future she yearned for, her enthusiasm was palpable.
Yet, as she ventured into the living room, that joy quickly evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread. The room lay drenched in crimson—a macabre blanket that clawed at the floors, walls, and sofas alike.
Her heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat as she called out, “Felix?” With tentative steps, she ventured deeper into the scene, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest that perhaps her brother was safe and this was all an elaborate ruse of mischief.
“Felix?!” she cried again, her voice swelling in urgency. The thought that the origin of the horror might still linger nearby eluded her. “This isn’t funny," she murmured, her hazel gaze darting around the room, each corner scanning for even a whisper of her missing sibling.
Brooke gingerly advanced, each step laden with trepidation as she carefully avoided the crimson puddles and debris littering the ground. A sudden jolt of surprise nearly toppled her when an unexpected hand clutched her ankle. “What is happening?” she whispered, her confusion palpable.
Whirling around, she recognized the figure who had grasped her—Felix, sprawled on the floor, his body a canvas of his own blood, his eyelids fluttering like moths caught in a quiet storm.
Without hesitation, she knelt beside him, her palm resting gently on his form. Concern darkened her features as she implored, "What’s going on?"
Felix attempted to respond, but a violent fit of coughs interrupted him. “Brooke, you must flee this place at once, before… before he comes back and finds you,” he gasped, words grappling for air.
“I can’t leave you here, Felix,” Brooke protested, urgency weaving through her voice. The fragments of his mumblings eluded her comprehension, yet instinct urged her to rescue him and find aid. “No, it’s already too late. I need you to stay safe, my little mouse,” he sighed, nudging her fears aside with a nickname that echoed a childhood bond.
Brooke was torn between the desire to drag her brother away from the brink and the fear of intensifying his fragile state. Tears threatened to spill as she watched Felix's eyelids flutter shut. "No, please don’t slip away from me, Felix," she murmured softly.
Her mind consumed with the effort to keep him awake, she failed to notice a shadow creeping toward her from behind, completely unaware of the crunching debris beneath his feet.
"Felix, don’t abandon me. I can't endure the thought of losing you too, just like we lost our parents," Brooke pleaded, her voice trembling with sorrow. Tenderly, she brushed away a delicate lock of hair from her brother’s face, her tears cascading down. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, a sudden, overpowering force hurled her across the room.
She crashed into the far wall, her body crumpling down as crimson trickled from the back of her head. Panic ignited within her wide, hazel eyes as she grappled to comprehend what had happened.
The hazy silhouette of the brunette blurred before her eyes, yet she could somewhat discern her brother sprawled in the same position, accompanied by a towering figure looming beside him. With her mouth hanging open, she strained to find her voice and call out to the ominous presence advancing toward her.
Brooke found herself rendered voiceless, frozen in disbelief after being hurled across the room like a rag doll into the unforgiving wall. The figure drew closer, radiating an air of menace, his gaze twisted with malevolence.
As she focused on him, pieces of his identity fell into place: a man in his early thirties, his hair defiantly spiked and eyes shimmering with a fierce brown intensity. A striking tattoo snaked down from his neck to his chin, a stark testament to hidden stories etched into his skin.
In the hushed silence of the room, the sound of his footsteps drummed an unsettling rhythm. Unaware of the crimson stains that marred the floor beneath her, Brooke watched in horror, her eyes wide with terror.
She felt her limbs betray her, an invisible weight holding her captive, while beads of sweat trickled down her brow, and each ragged breath grew heavier, echoing the dread that wrapped around her like a shroud.
With a fierce determination, the dark-haired woman struggled to stir one of her hands, blinking rapidly as tears poised on the brink of liberation.
Yet, she resisted their descent with every ounce of her strength. Soft murmurs slipped past her lips as she reflected on her delicate predicament, "I need to devise a way out of here, for Felix's sake."
After what felt like an eternity, Brooke finally felt the sensation return to her hand. This subtle flicker of movement ignited a spark of hope within her as she slowly curled her fingers, easing their tightness. With a gentle self-encouragement, she whispered, "That's keep it up, Brooke."
All the while, Brooke kept her eyes firmly fixed on the man who was steadily closing in on her. Drawing in a deep breath, she summoned the fortitude required to command her body into motion—a task demanding Herculean effort.
Once she was upright, Brooke instinctively leaned against the wall for support, shaking her head to clear the fog of dizziness shrouding her mind.
Gathering her bravery, Brooke took a deep breath, trying to summon her voice, which felt trapped within her. "W...who are you?" she managed to stammer, her pitch rising, but the man stood unmoved, unruffled by her inquiry as he loomed closer. "What drives you to act this way?" she pressed, her voice quivering with uncertainty.
She parted her lips, hoping to delve deeper into the enigma of his presence, yet silence enveloped her; no words came forth.
With a vice-like grip around her throat, he delivered a chilling warning, "Make another sound, and I’ll finish what I started—just like with your brother."
In terror, Brooke let out muffled whimpers, her body writhing as she sought to break free, but his hold only tightened, pinning her palm against the wall with his other hand. Gasping for breath, the pressure on her throat forced tears to carve paths down her cheeks, a silent testament to her plight.
Through the haze of her struggle, Brooke managed to whisper, “What…," just before the man released her grip and landed a brutal strike across her cheek, splitting her lip like fragile parchment.
He then clamped his palm over her mouth and nose, his other hand a vice on her throat. Leaning in with a menacing intimacy, he hissed into her ear, "Pay attention; I’ll say this only once."
Brooke watched the shadow of his face loom closer. "You don’t need to know my name, do you understand?" he began, but when silence hung thick in the air, he withdrew his hand from her face, delving into his pocket to produce a glimmering knife.
Racing against a tightening grip on her breath, her vision distorted into a swirling mist as oxygen abandoned her. It wasn’t until she felt the biting cold steel pressed harshly against her side that realization dawned, making her cry out in terror.
“I asked a question, and I expect you to nod that lovely little head of yours,” the man declared with a chilling authority, sliding the blade menacingly across, causing crimson rivulets to cascade from Brooke's wound. “It’s frankly irrelevant who I am,” he stressed again. “Am I clear?” he pressed.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as Brooke obeyed, praying the knife would retreat with her neck. “And if you dare to breathe a word of this,” he exhaled, a low growl escaping his lips.
He drew closer, his voice a sinister whisper grazing her ear, while the blade ruthlessly danced across her abdomen, leaving fresh scars. “I will hunt you down and erase your very being,” he breathed, the warmth of his words brushing against her neck.
Brooke instinctively tried to reply, but felt his lips linger against her skin, bestowing a chilling kiss. “Am I absolutely clear? No matter where you attempt to hide, I will find you,” he murmured, a promise laced with danger.
With a nod of approval, he commanded, 'A worthy response; now run away, but don’t dare look back. And remember, under no circumstance should you share this secret with anyone.' He pressed his lips briefly against hers before forcefully pushing her to the cold ground.
Brooke stumbled onto her hands and knees, breathless and gasping. She gingerly massaged her throat, trying to soothe the ache that throbbed there. Casting a last, lingering glance at her lifeless brother, she gathered her strength and sprang to her feet, tears pouring down her cheeks as she fled the scene.
As she bolted from the house, blood sprayed onto the pure white snow from the wound in her abdomen. Yet, she was oblivious to the macabre sight, her mind solely fixated on the imperative mission of escape, the bitter wind lashing against her face as the snowfall thickened around her.
In her frenzied flight, Brooke felt adrift, devoid of direction or destination, as thoughts of her brother and the horrors unfolding consumed her entirely.
The man's chilling whispers echoed incessantly in her thoughts, merging with Felix's earlier warning to escape. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she confessed, "I truly lament ignoring your advice, Felix. I should have ran away when I had the chance."
Eventually, exhaustion enveloped Brooke, and she made sure to create a significant separation from the ominous house. The moonlight and a few scattered streetlights were her only companions, with her lonely silhouette the sole sign of life in the stillness of the night.
She tenderly rubbed her bare arms, dressed merely in a tank top and black jeans. In her frantic exit from the house, she had carelessly shed her jacket, forgetting to retrieve it as she fled.
With a weary resolve, the brunette trudged through the snow, the biting cold nipping at her skin, but she fought to divert her focus. The chill seeped into her, invoking a creeping numbness, though other consuming thoughts danced through her mind like shadows in the night.
Questions raced through her mind: Where should she go next? How had she found herself in this difficult situation? Who was the man she had met? She shook her head in an attempt to eliminate the confusion.
"I know one thing for certain," Brooke reflected, her thoughts infused with a sense of hope. "I will make Felix proud. I will pursue my aspirations and journey to Lawrence, Kansas, all while saving for college."
After what seemed like hours, Brooke's energy diminished, ultimately leading her to give in to fatigue. She permitted herself to fall into the snow, her soft brown hair falling over her face and obscuring the bruises on her neck, while blood seeped from her abdominal wound.
As her vision began to blur and her breathing became shallow due to the frigid conditions and her injuries, Brooke remained still upon hearing approaching footsteps, too weary to care or even identify who it might be.
A wave of relief enveloped the young woman with brown hair as she felt a warm blanket being placed over her bare shoulders. Gathering the last of her strength, Brooke managed to shift her gaze toward the person standing before her.
This person was a young woman with blonde hair, likely around her age, and had striking light blue eyes. The blonde bent down and spoke softly, "Take it easy now, I am here for you."
Struggling to articulate her thoughts, Brooke heard the blonde call out to someone close by, "Max, please come here at once!" The sound of two sets of footsteps approached them.
"I am coming, Jamie, please hold on!" a youthful male voice responded. "We should leave this place now," another voice, belonging to an older male, suggested. With efficiency, the three people carefully transported Brooke to a vehicle waiting on the roadside.
Once Brooke was settled in the back of the vehicle, Jamie joined her. "Let us go without delay, Max and Ralph," she insisted, while gently comforting Brooke by draping a blanket over her shoulders. "You remain there, dear; we will take care of you and ensure your safety," she whispered softly.
"Understood," Brooke heard a third person exclaim. As the car began to move, the only sound she could discern was Jamie’s soothing voice asking her before she drifted into unconsciousness, "How did you come to find yourself in this unfortunate predicament?"
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Half-Hearted Promises