Fic: I Hate You
Jan. 1st, 2008 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missmara13Originally a Comment Fic I wrote for a Prompt Meme I did. Now with a title and spellchecking! Yay for spellchecking! lol
"I hate you," Ryan muttered as he and Dean leaned back against the door of the crypt to keep the zombies out. "I never had to trap myself in a crypt until I met you, and now this is the third time in 6 months!"
"Ah, come on! Life would be boring without this stuff!" Dean protested, grinning until he saw Ryan's scowl. "Right, so... you think this place has a back door?"
"It's a crypt, so I doubt it," Ryan replied. "If we survive, you get to be bait next time," he added.
Dean shrugged and looked around. The coffins were just set on reccessed shelves, not sealed in, so he grinned. "Hang on," he said, leaving Ryan alone at the door and tugging a coffin off it's shelf.
Ryan whinced when the coffin slammed into the stone floor, but moved side as Dean shoved it across the floor and in front of the door, wedging it between the door and the large stone structure in the center of the tomb. Together, they moved more coffins into place, two of them alongside the first, and then 2 on top of those.
"Now what?" Ryan asked, sitting down on the floor as far from the door and the coffins as he could, one arm cradled against his chest.
"We wait. These things have only attacked at night, so I bet they go dormant during the day. We can get out then."
"Joy," Ryan said tiredly.
"You okay?"
"I think I broke my arm," Ryan said.
"You sure it's just a break?" Dean asked, trying to keept he panic out of his voice as he crossed to Ryan and pulled the teenager's arm out to look at it, scared he'd see a bite on the skin. Instead, he just heard Ryan gasp in pain and say the jut of the bun jutting out.
"Pretty sure," Ryan said through gritted teeth. "Now will you stop yanking my broken arm around?" he added, pulling it back against his chest.
"We need to set it..."
"I need a hospital," Ryan replied. "But since you got us trapped in a crypt, I don't think that's gonna..." he trailed off suddenly, staring over Dean's shoulder. "I really hate you," he said.
Dean turned and jumped up when he saw that the stone structure in the center of the room had to be another tomb, because now a man with hollowed out eyes and a really pissed off expression on his face was looming over him. "Hi, there," Dean said.
"Only you would lock us in with a zombie," Ryan snapped, struggling to his feet.
"You're the guy who called them up, aren't you," Dean said, a girn forming. "This is perfect! They went on a rampage because no one was controlling him, and if I remember my lore correctly, we kill him and they all go meekly back to their graves!"
"I thought that was werewolves," Ryan said.
"Maybe, but hey, we gotta kill him anyway, so let's be positive," Dean suggested.
"I really, really hate you," Ryan said, sighing. But he nodded and as the zombie lunged forward, they shoved the top of the tomb closed, trapping the zombie. Then, Dean grabbed his shotgun and started slamming at it's head until the the head finally caved in. Almost immediately, the noises outside ceased.
"Told you," Dean said.
"Just move the damn coffins so I can get the good drugs," Ryan said, sitting down again.
The End
"I hate you," Ryan muttered as he and Dean leaned back against the door of the crypt to keep the zombies out. "I never had to trap myself in a crypt until I met you, and now this is the third time in 6 months!"
"Ah, come on! Life would be boring without this stuff!" Dean protested, grinning until he saw Ryan's scowl. "Right, so... you think this place has a back door?"
"It's a crypt, so I doubt it," Ryan replied. "If we survive, you get to be bait next time," he added.
Dean shrugged and looked around. The coffins were just set on reccessed shelves, not sealed in, so he grinned. "Hang on," he said, leaving Ryan alone at the door and tugging a coffin off it's shelf.
Ryan whinced when the coffin slammed into the stone floor, but moved side as Dean shoved it across the floor and in front of the door, wedging it between the door and the large stone structure in the center of the tomb. Together, they moved more coffins into place, two of them alongside the first, and then 2 on top of those.
"Now what?" Ryan asked, sitting down on the floor as far from the door and the coffins as he could, one arm cradled against his chest.
"We wait. These things have only attacked at night, so I bet they go dormant during the day. We can get out then."
"Joy," Ryan said tiredly.
"You okay?"
"I think I broke my arm," Ryan said.
"You sure it's just a break?" Dean asked, trying to keept he panic out of his voice as he crossed to Ryan and pulled the teenager's arm out to look at it, scared he'd see a bite on the skin. Instead, he just heard Ryan gasp in pain and say the jut of the bun jutting out.
"Pretty sure," Ryan said through gritted teeth. "Now will you stop yanking my broken arm around?" he added, pulling it back against his chest.
"We need to set it..."
"I need a hospital," Ryan replied. "But since you got us trapped in a crypt, I don't think that's gonna..." he trailed off suddenly, staring over Dean's shoulder. "I really hate you," he said.
Dean turned and jumped up when he saw that the stone structure in the center of the room had to be another tomb, because now a man with hollowed out eyes and a really pissed off expression on his face was looming over him. "Hi, there," Dean said.
"Only you would lock us in with a zombie," Ryan snapped, struggling to his feet.
"You're the guy who called them up, aren't you," Dean said, a girn forming. "This is perfect! They went on a rampage because no one was controlling him, and if I remember my lore correctly, we kill him and they all go meekly back to their graves!"
"I thought that was werewolves," Ryan said.
"Maybe, but hey, we gotta kill him anyway, so let's be positive," Dean suggested.
"I really, really hate you," Ryan said, sighing. But he nodded and as the zombie lunged forward, they shoved the top of the tomb closed, trapping the zombie. Then, Dean grabbed his shotgun and started slamming at it's head until the the head finally caved in. Almost immediately, the noises outside ceased.
"Told you," Dean said.
"Just move the damn coffins so I can get the good drugs," Ryan said, sitting down again.
The End
