Dean drove like a man possessed, tearing up the road in his haste to get back to Connecticut. Back to Sam. He’d been gone much longer than he’d felt was safe. Accomplishing next to nothing in the interim. Other than finding out about Chris and learning that there was no way he could destroy Molly’s spirit the easy, conventional way, the entire trip had been a colossal waste of time.

Dean barely acknowledging his distressed passenger the entire drive, mumbling little more than a few words during the journey. He had more important things on his mind. Things that warranted his attention much more than the trivial ramblings that occasionally sprouted from Chris Driscoll’s mouth.

Like what he was planning to do once he got there. And how he was going to permanently get rid of Molly. Because, truth be told, he simply didn’t have a clue.

Although he clung to the hope that a plan would eventually come to him.

The closer he got to Connecticut, the more Dean began to doubt his reasonings behind dragging Chris back with him. Although it had seemed like a good idea at the time, he wasn’t quite sure how wise a decision it had actually been. Because other than using Chris to divert Molly’s attention away from Sam, Dean couldn’t think of any other plausible use for the kid.

He couldn’t just leave the hapless jerk like a bear caught in trap for Molly.

Because as much as Chris probably did deserve some of the things her spirit might do to him, the guy still didn’t deserve to die. Not at her sadistic hands anyway.

Approaching the outskirts of Brookfield, Dean breathed a sigh of relief and turned to his passenger. “Almost there, Dude.”

“Brookfield?” enquired Chris, revealing his superior intellect after obviously having read the highway sign displaying their current whereabouts. “But I don’t know anybody in Connecticut.”

“Oh yes you do.”

“Who?”

Dean glanced over at Chris, a bemused smirk on his face. “Your old girlfriend. Molly.”

“B...b...b...but I thought you said she was dead.”

“She is.”

Chris scowled. “I…I don’t get it.”

“Trust me. You will soon enough,” replied Dean, turning his attention back to the road.

“But if Molly’s dead and you came to Michigan to find her body, how can she be here now,” questioned a mystified Chris. "How is that even possible?"

Sore, worried and tired, both physically and mentally, Dean wasn’t about to try to explain the unexplainable to the shit-for-brains loser who had been responsible for this whole misadventure. Instead he glared at him, the order to be quiet, evident in his icy gaze.

Although, for good measure, he voiced an order. “Shut up. Just. Shut up,” as he turned the Impala into the familiar motel parking lot.

Her hand tightening around Sam’s neck, Molly’s outrage began to subside. But it didn’t dissipate anywhere near fast enough. Sam slowly turned a ghastly bluish-white, deprived as he was of a readily available supply of oxygen.

He was exhibiting the telltale sign of acute asphyxiation.

And only when it became apparent that Sam had drawn his last breath did Molly finally relinquish her hold, slowly removing her hand from around his throat as she stared down at his lifeless body sprawled out across the bed. It had taken some time and drained all her energy but she had finally accomplished what she had wanted from him all along.

He had been so very, very difficult, resisting her every step of the way and opposing everything she had tried to do in order to get him to come closer to her. His defiance had only succeeded in fuelling her anger, forcing her to lash out in more and more inventive ways to obtain what she needed for her own survival. If he had only been more compliant, more willing to appease her, it could have gone so much differently. He wouldn’t have suffered as much. But his lack of cooperation had upset her and caused her to do things that she otherwise would not have done. And, of course, there had been a purpose behind all the things she had done. A reason for every one of her actions.

Because she had been so very, very lonely.

Her loneliness had consumed her for so long, leaving nothing behind but complete and utter despair. A desolation that picked away at her, until she was only a mass of hatred and isolation. She didn’t understand how it had occurred. How everyone and everything she had known and cared about in the world had suddenly disappeared from her life. It was as if she had been inexplicably cut off from the entire world and the resulting isolation had dehumanized her. Her sense of alienation grew unchecked and, in time, mutated into a deep, dark resentment that churned inside her and gave rise to an unnamed and unbridled anger that turned her into a shadow of her former self.

She had nothing. And no one. She was completely alone in a big, empty world that she no longer understood or felt a part of. A world that seemed to have forgotten all about her. Trapped in it and unable to escape she eventually forgot or suppressed the memories of all the people and things she used to hold dear and began drifting like an outcast in an endless void that overtook her entire existence.

But that all changed in an instant.

The day she perceived a presence.

Something – or someone – was near by. Something that she felt she would finally be able to connect to. Something that would finally understand her. She had waited for this for so long and she tracked the presence, rushing to the location where its essence was the strongest. But by the time she arrived it had already moved on. Dismayed and angered by the cruel twist of fate, she left, once again wandering aimlessly off alone.

That is, until she felt it again.

But, by the time she returned to the exact same place she had felt it before, the presence was gone. But she was encouraged by the potency of its residual power and she decided to wait in case it came back.

And it did.

A short time later she felt it beckoning to her so strongly that she was momentarily paralysed and once again failed to join up with it before it moved beyond her reach. But, as before, its aura lingered in the vicinity and she anxiously awaited its return.

And when the presence did come back again, she heaved herself at it without much more than a single thought.

But the presence had been moving far too fast and she missed it. Filled with an inexplicable rage at her failure she became convinced that that the presence was responsible. It had initially contacted her, luring her toward it, but was now simply mocking her lack of skill. It was playing a game of cat-and-mouse. One that she was determined to win at all costs.

The next time it appeared she resisted the overwhelming urge to unite with it, choosing instead to simply watch and calculate the best way to connect with it when it next passed through. And when it did return, going the opposite way, she leapt ahead of it as it approached, determined to catch it no matter what.

And, after a brief interlude, she found herself enclosed in a small, confined space unlike anything she had the capability to remember. At first, the sights and sounds that surrounded her were strange, the images and noises odd and unfamiliar. Yet the force of the presence was overpowering and it remained fixed and steady in front of her, although it seemed to have forgotten all about her.

But with each passing minute the other things around her became more vivid and alive, turning from vague and unrecognizable into concrete shapes and identifiable sounds. The two dark silhouettes in front of her morphed into human shapes which Molly soon recognized as males and shortly after realized without a doubt that she was in the backseat of the oldest car she had ever been in.

She was immediately drawn to the younger of the two males for it was from him that the presence seemed to radiate. Yet, try as she might, she just couldn’t seem to communicate with him. He simply ignored her. Or pretended that she didn’t exist.

It was the same as it had been before she felt the presence and her anger and resentment began to grow again. As her rage intensified, she grew stronger and more in control of herself and her newfound abilities. Soon she was able to mingle with her companions, although direct communication remained elusive. She let her displeasure at being overlooked be known when she stole a particularly annoying music cassette that had been played in the car over and over. She brought the cassette with her when she followed the two males into their motel room, placing the tape under the pillow of the one who had initially summoned her. Yet, when the other male found it he dared to pretend that he had no idea how it could have gotten there.

Once again, she was been snubbed.

The two males continually followed one another, seldom separating or parting ways for very long and Molly began to resent the older one. He dominated the other’s time and demanded his undying attention, making it apparent that the younger one ignored her simply because of his brother. Wanting nothing more than a simple acknowledgement from the younger brother, Molly found a way to be noticed; she wrote a poem on his laptop.

Yet, after he read it, he simply shut the computer off as if it meant nothing. A further wound to her fragile existence.

The next time they left she decided to tag along. But the loud, pulsating poor-excuse-for-music-but-nothing-really-but-annoying-sounds-mixed-together that they kept playing in the car's tape player riled her already frazzled nerves and she ended up tossing the entire tape collection out the window. When the older male got out of the car to retrieve them, Molly immediately locked the doors. Her opportunity to be alone with Sam.

But his concern focused only on his brother’s plight and Molly’s anger resurfaced. She left them and returned to the motel, trashing everything that belonged to the older brother until all of his belongings and half the room was demolished.

Her anger spent, Molly reviewed her handiwork. Although happy with what she had done, she feared that her deed would cause her more problems than she wanted when all she really wanted was some attention from the man who had originally summoned to her. In order to gain his favour she decorated his bed with fresh flower petals and drew him a peace offering on the wall.

Still, her efforts were rebuffed when he agreed to forsake her in order to follow his overbearing brother out of the room. So she threw the brother outside and chained Sam to the bed. At least she knew she would have his undivided attention now. But his brother still refused to leave them alone so she sent him a warning with a physically lambasting. And, although she gained a small level of satisfaction in that Sam finally began to converse with her, his main concern centred around the condition of his brother.

Wanting to prove to him that his brother was still alive in order to gain his acceptance, Molly brought Dean back into the room. And after a few rough moments, things had progressed well enough that Sam even convinced him to leave on his own, leading Molly to believe that he was finally going to cede to her wishes. But a true sense of intimacy remained elusive as Sam continued to fight her at every turn, denying that he wanted to be with her as much as she needed him to be.

If she couldn’t get him to connect to her, she might remain alone and separated from everything forever. Her mind darkened at the possibility and her anger began to spin wildly out of control. Desperate to secure his favour, her emotions pulled downwards by the same dangerous force that had engulfed her years before, she resorted to tactics that would have appalled her in her former life. Yet, no matter how she tried to encourage him, he continued to resist and she grew more frantic as she tried to elicit his consensus in more ingenious and torturous ways.

But he remained apart, refusing to submit to her. Her rage exploded until it knew no bounds. She poked and prodded at his physical being, stabbed and injured him, trying everything she could to wear down his resolve so that he would acquiesce to her need for him. She watched him choke and gag, moan and cry yet neither of them seemed willing to relent. She couldn’t. Her loneliness had become too much to bear and she needed someone to end her pain and suffering.

Because only when he agreed to end hers would she be willing to end his.

Yet through it all she simply wanted him to accept what the presence he carried within him told her. That he was her desired companion. That he was the someone that she was supposed to stay with her. He was the someone that she would end her loneliness.

After all, he had made the initial contact with her. And why would he have contacted her if he didn’t mean it?

But it was his barrage of protests and denials that finally caused her to snap. She decided that she would have him regardless of his lack of consent. He would join with her and they would be bound together.

Forever.

His acceptance could come after that.

And she had done it. Choked the resistance right out of him. Put a stop to his naysaying.

Now all she had to do was wait for him to come to her.