Inside the room, Henry stood under the shower, water running over him, steam building against the tiles and fogging the mirror until the whole bathroom felt closed off.
Outside—
ground floor.
The bathroom window sat just a few feet above the pavement, thin glass, cheap frame, nothing that would stop anyone determined enough.
Near it, the receptionist and the motel caretaker stood side by side, close enough to hear the water running inside. To anyone passing by, they looked like they belonged there.
They didn't.
For a brief moment, both of their eyes went black.
"Tell me something," the first one said under his breath. "How are we supposed to kill that guy? That's not human in there."
The second kept watching the window. "You've heard the stories," he said. "Winchesters are bad enough, but him… nothing walks away after meeting him."
The first shifted uneasily. "And we're standing right outside his room."
He glanced at the door, then back at the window. "You want to go in?"
The second shook his head immediately. "No. I'm not that stupid."
Footsteps approached.
A third man came up behind them, carrying a plastic container. The liquid inside moved as he walked.
He looked at both of them once, unimpressed. "You don't go inside," he said. "You don't fight him."
He set the container down right under the bathroom window.
"You burn him out."
The first demon looked down at it. "Gasoline?"
The third nodded, already loosening the cap. The smell started to spread faintly into the air. "Fill the edges, let it seep in. This place is dry enough."
The second frowned slightly. "You think that's enough?"
The third glanced toward the window, listening to the steady sound of water inside. "Fire doesn't care what he is," he said. "Once it catches, he's done."
He straightened, calm, certain.
"One match," he added, "and this whole room goes up."
The third demon flicked the lighter and dropped it.
The fuel caught at once. Flame ran along the ground, hit the pool under the window, and punched through the frame.
Inside, Henry had just stepped out of the shower, towel loose.
The blast hit like a shove. It drove him back into the mirror. The glass cracked, then broke. He went through it, shards riding with him, cutting across his shoulder and side as he hit the wall.
Burning fuel came in behind the pressure. Not a big boom—more a rush of ignited vapor and liquid that splashed across the tiles and floor. Droplets stuck and flared where they landed.
The wall near the window split along the seam. Plaster dropped. A ceiling panel gave and hung, then fell.
Henry hit the floor. Debris followed—wood, plaster—striking his back and shoulder. Heat pushed in. Smoke thickened fast.
Outside, the three stepped back from the flare. Fire licked out through the broken window. Smoke rolled up the wall.
They watched the room burn.
"Did we succeed?"
The other two didn't answer.
For a second, even they weren't sure. It felt too easy. Too clean for someone they'd been warned about like that. One of them shifted, eyes still on the burning room, doubt starting to creep in.
Then something moved inside the fire.
A sharp crack cut through the noise as a spear of blue-gold energy shot straight out through the rubble, blasting chunks of charred wood and plaster outward. The impact sent debris flying, forcing all three of them to step back.
Through the smoke—
A figure stood.
Half his face scorched, skin darkened and cracked from the heat, steam still rising off him. The towel hung loose at his waist, burned at the edges, barely holding together.
Henry.
He spat to the side, voice rough, pissed. "You've gotta be kidding me," he snapped. "You dumb bastards really tried to cook me alive?"
He stepped in and drove forward, closing the distance in a burst of speed that caught them mid-reaction. One of them barely raised his hand before Henry grabbed a broken chunk of concrete and slammed it straight into his face.
Bone cracked.
The body dropped.
At the same time, something shifted behind Henry—
From the rubble, a thin blue thread of energy snapped tight, dragging something free. The angel blade came with it, ripping out from under debris and locking straight into his hand.
Henry turned and drove the blade forward, straight through the second demon's throat before it could even open its mouth.
Black smoke started to rise.
Too slow.
Henry twisted the blade and ripped it free, then moved again.
The third demon tried to back up, hands coming up too late.
Henry stepped in close and slashed once across the torso, then again across the neck in a clean, brutal motion.
The body dropped before it could finish falling apart.
Silence followed.
Just fire cracking behind him.
Henry stood there for a second, breathing steady, blade still in his hand, the blue glow flickering across his burned skin.
Then he looked down at what was left.
"…Next time," he muttered, voice still edged, "try something that actually works."
[2 Demons Eliminated — Earned 30 Supernatural Points]
[Earned: 1 Uncommon Gacha Chance]
*****
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