Wrestling with Demons
"Cut to the right, Sam! The right!" Dean burst through the foliage, racing toward the monster reaching for his baby brother. He raised his pistol, shooting once, then twice. The silver bullets bounced off like they were made of rubber. "Shit," Dean muttered.
Dean had seen plenty of monsters in his time. All could be killed with either fire or silver bullets. He had already tried fire when the demon had first appeared, but it didn't so much as damage its reptilian green skin. Now silver didn't work either. He had to think fast. Whatever this thing was, there had to be some way of killing it. Before he and Sam had happened upon it, it had already ripped apart two campers, and he refused to let it rip apart any more. He had one more idea. Dropping his gun, he felt for the hilt of the knife on his belt. When in doubt, use steel.
Sam heeded Dean's warning and moved to the right. But he wasn't fast enough. The demon's claws grazed his shoulder, leaving two thick gashes. He cried out at the pain, nearly falling to his knees. Clutching his shoulder, he saw Dean race toward their prey with a large hunting knife raised. Sam dropped to the ground as Dean leaped over him, driving the knife into the creature's back. It roared in agony. Sam then reached for its legs and pulled them out from under it. The monster hit the ground face first. It lay there, unmoving.
Dean pulled the knife out of its back. "Good work, Sam."
Sam peered at the creature. "Is it dead?"
"I don't know. It looks like it."
The brothers leaned in closer to check for signs of life. They didn't move back quick enough. The monster sprang from the ground, knocking the brothers down. Dean groaned and sent the monster a deadly glare.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that," he warned.
He glanced at Sam, making sure he was all right. His younger brother winced in pain.
The demon whirled around and roared. Dean turned in time to see it advance. Gritting his teeth, he climbed to his feet and clutched his knife.
With a primal yell, he ran toward the monster. He only had one goal and that was to silence the thing. The demon swung and Dean ducked. He drove his knife straight into the monster's heart. This time the monster turned to dust, crumbling to the ground.
A moment of complete silence followed as Dean stared at the ground. The uneven crunching of leaves behind him caught his attention. He turned to see Sam limping to join him.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to demons turning to dust," Sam commented, studying the black powder at his feet.
Dean sheathed the knife. "At least, we know it's gone." He offered an arm for Sam to lean on. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel." Together, they muddled back to the Impala.