Since I'm doing it for the others, figured this one deserved one too. Plus, I wanted to show off my brand new banner :oD


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The dark smudges under Sam's eyes had yet to soften, deep grooved valleys competing with the lines of concern looking forever carved in his forehead. The growing stubble, result of Sam's lack of patience or willingness to grab a good shave, added too many years to a face that was supposed to be young. In contrast, the sunburn that had eventually ( Read more... )

Time itself seemed to not move in this place. Dean was sure that they had started walking well over three hours ago and still the sun had not moved in the sky. Their bodies remained stubbornly without producing shadow, stuck in some high noon loop.

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It was like one of those arcade games, the ones where you go around in the dark, carefully bending 'round corners and gaining points whenever you blow off some zombie, or some alien or whatever the game wants you to fight.

In here, however, there were no extra lives and the big boss at the end of the level could very possibly be your own brother.

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Because, contrary to popular belief -if there is one about the matter- when a demon takes over a person’s body, they don’t simply lodge themselves in the person’s lungs, or stomach, or what ever nice cavity they can find. They weren’t virus; they weren’t bugs. They were more, if anything, like parasites that use you and ride you to death.

However, ( Read more... )

The smell hit Dean first. Not even the sewers had managed to smell that bad. It was the kind of sour stink that clung to the back of your throat. It was everywhere as soon as he opened the door and tried to see in to the darkness. Rotten flesh, and rusty copper and plain decomposition that hung physically in the air like vaporized shit.

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At first, Bobby had thought that it was some kind of unfunny joke that the kid was playing on him. The kid was only eight, but being the son of a hunter... Bobby wouldn’t put pass John to have taught the language almost as well as English to his sons. But the look of surprised fear in John’s face soon dissuaded him from that line of thought.

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Bobby tried to make heads and tails of the disjointed speech that he was being fed. He gave up when he realized that he had too many pieces missing. His own mind was still coming to gripes with the whole being possessed thing. And now, apparently, the shit had hit the fan when he wasn’t even looking.

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Except for a period of time that Sam would rather forget, right after Dean’s death, Sam doesn’t usually drink. Sam almost never drinks to the point of loosing perspective. When he does, it’s because he’s punishing himself for something. Or punishing others.

Since he’s the one with the killer hangover the next day, he’s not exactly sure how that ( Read more... )

The feeling wasn’t new to Dean. To some extent, he realized now, he had always felt something akin to that whenever some evil thing was near. Hunter’s instincts, he’d called it, attributing the highly developed senses to his father’s training. Now he knew that it had always been something more than mere instincts and training. Now that he was doing ( Read more... )