WARNING: Contains self-stuffing and suggestions of Wincest. Once again, in first person. I think that it's one of the last stories that is, though."Okay. That should do it." Dean pressed the adhesive end of the bandage into place, tossing the packaging into the trash can next to the bed with an unreadable expression on his face. Cracking a ( Read more... )

The door of the dingy little motel room banged into a shared wall when I kicked it open. Hard. So hard, in fact, that the plaster cracked under the hideous wallpaper, the doorknob spun and sagged in its socket like it was gonna fall out, and the guy in the next room woke up. Turned out he had a vocabulary to rival mine, and he immediately started ( Read more... )

"I...I just feel like I should apologize again ( Read more... )

The sound of my boots slamming into the concrete seemed about as loud as a shotgun going off at close range-to me, at least. It had gotten deathly quiet after Sarah screamed, and there was just no way that could be a good sign. I patted at all the usual places that I kept weapons, running as fast as I could to force blood back to other parts of my ( Read more... )

"Are you even sure salt works against hellhounds ( Read more... )

Something here was screwed up in a hundred different ways ( Read more... )

"My pants don't fit ( Read more... )

Hey, this is what you wanted, isn't it ( Read more... )

The water was really freaking cold. I had been under it for five minutes already, and my toes were going blue, as were a couple other key parts of my anatomy. But I stayed where I was, head bowed and hands clenched into fists. I tried not to even shiver ( Read more... )

"How'd you pay for this ( Read more... )