The old picture tube TV was buzzing, and the newscaster's voice, wrapped in the news of the hurricane's landfall, bounced around the small kitchen.
The air was mixed with the smell of rust, the alcohol smell of cheap whiskey, and the fishy smell of damp copper bowls, which stuck to people's faces and made them panic.
Bobby·Singer stood at the dining table, holding a folding knife with rough fingers. The blade made a deep cut in the palm, and blood beads rolled down along the palm prints.
Dark red blood dripped into the copper bowl in front of him, creating small blood flowers and creating ripples.
He frowned and recited the summoning spell in a low voice, his voice low and hoarse like stubble rubbing against his face. He tossed his hand and threw the match in, and the blue flames "jumped" up to half a foot high, reflecting the cold light on the stubble on his face.
His heart was extremely tight - Apocalypse had just ended, Sam danced to Hell's Cage, and the whole world thought he had won, but the score between him and Crowley had not yet been settled. Today, he had to get his soul back.
Suddenly there was a soft sound behind him, like leather shoes scraping against the floor, so soft that it was almost inaudible.
Crowley was leaning against the door frame in a crisp black coat. The silk scarf at the collar was not messy. The leather shoes were polished so that the figure could be seen. The toes of the shoes were facing the gap in the floor, and not even a sound was made.
He snapped his fingers, and the TV was instantly muted, even the sound of snowflakes was gone. With his usual playful smile on his lips, he walked in slowly, his steps were as light as floating over, and the hem of his coat didn't even sway.
"Are you having a good time?" He glanced at the wine bottles on the table with a condescending tone, "Sam That swan jump was so beautiful. Romania The judges had to give it full marks. You should be proud. Speaking of which, we saved the world together. I've been celebrating for several days."
Bobby grabbed the whiskey bottle on the table, his knuckles turned white from the force, and the glass bottle squeaked softly. He glanced sideways at Crowley, his Adam's apple moved, and he suppressed the anger in his heart. "I want to see what your so-called celebration is. Take a sip?"
Crowley wrinkled his nose in disgust, took a half step back, as if smelling something dirty, his brows knitted together. "No."
"I understand," Bobby deliberately imitated his British accent and poured himself a full glass of wine. The wine sloshed out of the rim of the glass and dripped on the table, leaving a small wet mark. "We 'saved the world together', but in the end you think it's cheap to even have a drink with me?"
"That's natural," Crowley raised his chin and glanced at the cheap wine bottles on the table with undisguised contempt, "Besides, you don't have the brand I drink here. Craig Whisky, it has been aged for at least thirty years. I drank this when I was in school."
Bobby sneered, shook the bottle in his hand, and the glass made a soft sound when it collided, "I only have bad wine that has been stored for six days. Just drink this stuff and it will burn a hole in your soul. Oh, sorry - it's my soul."
He put down the bottle and took half a step forward. His eyes suddenly turned cold, like two ice picks. "Stop beating around the bush. It's time to honor the deal and return my soul to me."
Crowley raised his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised, and raised his eyebrows very high. "Give it back to you? Our agreement is to work together to solve Lucifer, and I will tear up the contract?"
"Nonsense!" Bobby hit the table with his fist, the wine glass vibrated and a few drops of wine spilled out.
"You didn't read the contract carefully, did you?" Crowley said slowly, with a calculating smile in his eyes, like a cat teasing a mouse, "Item B of Paragraph 18 is written in the corner of the page you signed - I just need to 'try my best' to help you get your soul back. That means, I want to help, but I can't."
"You lying bastard--"
"Ten years," Crowley interrupted him, his tone was understated, but with a crushing sense of oppression, and the air suddenly sank, "You still have ten years to live, so enjoy it. Before that, I suggest you drink something good and don't wrong yourself."
Bobby stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly sneered, turned around and turned off the light with a snap.
Darkness instantly engulfed the kitchen, with only the red Devil's Trap runes on the floor glowing faintly, encircling Crowley in the middle. The red light made the lower half of his face look like blood was oozing out, which was very strange.
"I hope it's just paint." Crowley lowered his head and glanced. There was no panic in his tone, but it was a bit funny, like watching a child play house, "Isn't it Robert, that's all you can do?"
Bobby ignored him and turned around to walk to the kitchen, making a rustling sound as the soles of his shoes scraped against the floor.
Crowley suddenly blew a sharp whistle, the sound piercing the darkness.
Hellhound's deep roar immediately came from the darkness, and the hot and humid smell hit Bobby's face, carrying a putrid stench. The hot breath sprayed on the back of his hand, making it sticky.
He subconsciously raised his hands to cover his face, his throat tightened, and he cursed himself for being so careless - this thing actually had a hunting dog.
"Do you smell it? Is the dog's breath strong enough?" Crowley's voice floated over from the darkness with a smile, "The choice is yours, Robert. Either live peacefully for ten years, or be dog food for ten years."
The clicking sound of fangs colliding became closer and closer, and the smelly hot air sprayed on the back of Bobby's hand, getting hotter and hotter.
He clutched the folding knife in his pocket, and his nails dug deeply into his palm, which made him numb with pain. After weighing for two seconds, he finally bent down and scraped off the runes on the edge of the trap with the tip of the knife, and the chalk dust fell down.
The red light goes out instantly.
Crowley straightened his coat and smiled proudly, his laughter muffled in the darkness. Bobby held up the folding knife towards him, the blade shining coldly in the moonlight coming in from the window, and gritted his teeth and said, "This is not over yet."
"I just like your energy." Crowley raised his chin at him, turned around and disappeared into the shadows, "Happy hunting."
After the words fell, there was no more movement in the darkness, only the sound of Bobby's heavy breathing remained.
Bobby was the only person left in the room, standing in the darkness with his chest heaving violently and the knife in his hand clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
And deep in the basement, Bai Haorui, who was in retreat to attack the realm, was shaking slightly all over True Gang.
He closed his eyes tightly and sat cross-legged on the futon. The purple-gold True Gang around him rose and fell with his breathing, rising and falling like the tide.
The dull pain of torn meridians spread along his limbs and bones, like countless needles pricking and drilling Bones seams. He didn't even frown.
Divine Sense, on the other hand, spread out very widely, clearly feeling the cold demonic aura, and clearly hearing every conversation between the two, and even the calculating smile in Crowley's tone could be clearly sensed.
This moment is the most critical point in breaking through the barrier. The meridians are being widened and reshaped. If he is distracted for a moment, all his previous efforts will be wasted and he will not be able to exit the barrier.
The lavender Lotus Seal between his eyebrows trembled slightly, with a bit of heat. He wrote down this account in his mind, and also wrote down the two keywords "Craig Whisky" and "Scotland".
Crowley.
this
Accounts must be settled sooner or later.
A few candles were lit in the damp basement, and the flickering firelight made the shadows of the ancient books nailed to the wall look crooked. There were water droplets on the wall, rolling down the old paper, and dripping on the ground, leaving small wet marks. The air was mixed with the musty smell of old paper that had become damp., the faint medicinal fragrance of grinding cinnabar, and a faint smell of blood - that is the blood that leaked out from the meridians when Bai Haorui was adjusting the breath and recuperating. It condensed in the air and could not be dispersed. It smelled like rust when inhaled into the lungs.
The female devil at the crossroads was tied to a chair with iron chains. The iron chains were cut into her flesh, and black blood was oozing out.
Her face was stained with blood, and there was a big cut at the corner of her mouth, revealing her sharp fangs. Her nails were long and black, and she dug at the armrests of the chair, leaving marks.
She had a confident smile on her face, as if she was determined to Bobby not really dare to do anything to her.
Bobby had just finished hanging up the phone from Dean, and the screen of the phone was still on, illuminating his chin with a blue light.
He turned around and walked back to her, his face even darker than before. Dean This call was not timed. Wisconsin There was a serial murder case over there. The brothers were confused. He was already annoyed, but now it only added fuel to the fire.
"Have you finished chatting?" The female devil smiled, her voice was hoarse and deliberately teasing, and she licked the blood from the corner of her mouth with her tongue, "You are so anxious to come back and accompany me?"
Bobby did not answer. He reached out and picked up a few yellowed human bones from the iron box next to him. The surface of Bones was bumpy. He weighed it in his hand and found that it was not light. The collision of Bones made a crisp sound, like a knock on Bones, with two clicks.
The female devil's face instantly turned pale, her smile froze, and her eyes showed panic.
"Where did we talk?" Bobby's voice was low, with a rough hoarse tone, "Yes, Crowley. I want his real name when he was still a human."
The female devil swallowed, her Adam's apple moved up and down, but she still had the courage to taunt. "Why, can tying up the devil make you feel better? Can it make up for the fact that you killed your wife back then?"
Bobby's hand suddenly paused, and the muscles on his face twitched uncontrollably. His heart felt like it had been stabbed hard by a needle, with a dull pain sinking down his chest.
But he quickly suppressed the surging emotions, his eyes were as cold as ice, and he brought Bones close to the candle flame. The flame licked Bones and made a sizzling sound, "You don't recognize these Bones? This is yours."
The flames licked Bones and made a sizzling sound, like burning fat meat. The burnt smell slowly spread and spread all over the basement.
The female demon immediately screamed in pain and struggled desperately. The iron chains rattled, causing the iron chair to shake, and the legs of the chair scraped against the floor, making a screeching sound.
"Don't burn it! Don't burn it! It's useless, it's all legend--"
"Really?" Bobby threw Bones into the fire again. The flames jumped up and licked his fingers, but he didn't seem to feel it. "Then you can just play with me."
"Ah--! I say! I say!" The female devil was shaking all over in pain, tears mixed with blood and flowed down, covering her face. "You don't know what he will do to me. He is now... he is the king of Hell!"