Hey everybody. Well, this is it. This is the end of the story. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers over time: Deans little secret, samantha-dean, funkyspunk, Poaetpainter, Colby's girl, Aogail, WolvieRogue-deansamlvr, big-bird-rocks, friendly, Jess(JazzaAckles), Winchester13, blackpanther97, Turner97, J.Fait, catchme21, sarcastic.funn, blazingfire03, purpleflipnhippo, Candy (sweetysmart0505), SilverStorm06, Bluemoondestiny, Entity and Sammygirl1963. Thanks to all of you. I loved your reviews. Hope you like the end.
Chapter 15... Now That We're Immortal, Let The Reigns Go Loose
Inside The House…
I will kill him. I will kill me. I will kill him. I will kill me. I will kill him. I will kill me.
Cripps repeated those sentences one at a time as she walked down the stairway, like a teenage girl picking the petals off a flower to decide if a boy liked her or not. She reached the ground floor. She stopped repeating the sentences. Their fate was sealed, in her own twisted mindset. She looked at the key. A small piece of bronze, chipped at the blunt end. She itched at it with her fingers, staring. She glanced up for a second, looking around the room, and took a deep breath. She smiled. Not too vibrantly, not too dully. Slowly tracing her steps towards the kitchen, she sang to herself a sweet lullaby.
I want to go home. Why doesn't anyone let me go home?
She bent down and picked up one of the knives. It reflected her image, abstract and distorted. She was still smiling, only in the knife it looked as though someone had taken an eraser and rubbed her face. She stepped out into the living room.
I will go home. I will take…
I will kill him?
I will kill me?
Dropping the key onto the floor, she raised the knife above her head, and then brought it down onto her thin stomach. It was as though someone had gripped her wrist, and then the grip became tighter and tighter until she realized it wasn't a grip, but claws of steel.
She took out the knife. And pushed it back into herself again.
A little yelp escaped her lips. The metal still lodged into her stomach, she fell to the ground, in a pool of her own blood.
Dragging the body towards the open door, he coughed loudly. There was no blood, which was unusual. Damn, he's heavy, the shape shifter thought. After entering inside the bright area, he faced his master, in front of which he bowed down immediately.
"Perfect," was all that He said.
The shape shifter looked down towards the naked body and grinned, and then suddenly wondered what the grin would look like on his new skin. He wanted a mirror. But that would be taken care of later. After all, he had no intentions of ever losing this skin.
He strolled towards where the sledge hammer was, and picked it up. Spinning its head, he ran up the stairs towards the living room. The sight shocked him a little, but he didn't show any such expression. He just stepped towards the still body lying on the floor, and kicked it slightly, asking, "Anyone alive in there?"
He had a key. The one his master had given him. But there was another one on the floor. He didn't pick it up, but instead picked up the knife, dropping the hammer at the same time. Slicing his cheek a little, gritting his teeth at the slight pain, he smiled and thought, Now that looks real, doesn't it?
At the door, he pushed the key inside the lock, and turned it all the way through. The door made a loud and distant type of creak. The lock fell onto the floor, followed by the metal sheets guarding the door. They seemed to be connected to the lock all along. A chain reaction, a very loud one at that, started in the house. One by one, all the sheets which had been guarding the walls fell to the floor and made loud clanging noises. He was still pretty unhinged, and seemed rather bored.
He pushed the door open, as the humid air from outside blew inside. The first thing he saw was an old car, and a man next to it. Dean Winchester.
Dean was stunned. His eyes widened, and his mouth hung open. He ran towards Sam brother and hugged him tightly. They weren't even outside the stoop yet, as Dean beamed and screamed, "Sammy! You're alive! I was about to drive this damn car into the wall right now! Couldn't have been better timing! What's that on your face? Are you hurt?!"
Bombarded by questions, the shapeshifter faked being tired and walked to the car with Dean. Just before they left, Dean asked him, "Were you all alone in there?"
Samnodded and whispered, "Yeah. It was horrible."
Driving along the long road, Dean felt an odd prickle in his stomach. A restless feeling The feeling that something wasn't right. He looked to his brother; who seemed quieter, even more than usual.
"Oh yeah…What did he say?"
In that second, Dean swerved the car around, surprising the shapeshifter and almost throwing him out of his chair. He took out the handgun he had found earlier in a back compartment, and pointed it right in the shapeshifter's face.
"Where's my brother?"
"I am your brother Dean. What are you talking about?" He stuttered. The lie was blatant and obvious now.
Why didn't I figure this out before?
Before another thought, Dean shot the shapeshifter in the knee. At this point the shapeshifter groaned and screamed, "What the hell Dean!"
"One last time. Where's my brother?"
He shot him precisely in the chest. The shapeshifter almost flew out the car. The hit wasn't meant to kill him, but if no one found him soon, he would surely be dead.
And then Dean drove like a maniac.
Ten Minutes Later…
He could see the house. Oh thank god. He's alive. He's still alive. I can still save him.
And then it erupted.
A huge ball of dust rose into the sky. The windows shattered. The old walls, decayed and dead, fell to the earth, along with everyone and everything in them.
It was over.
"You're not dead, Sam," said the voice, resounding in Sam's ears.
He couldn't talk. He was in too much pain. He was somewhere, uncomfortably tied to a chair. Everything around him was black.
"I know how you're feeling right now. The sting must be terrible, isn't it?" He cackled. "If only your friend had paid a little attention, he could have seen where those tiles opened too. Too cowardly, that boy was. Too afraid for his own life, he didn't even notice we were staring right at him. I was there all along Sam. I wanted you. I didn't need the rest, no matter how special. It was just a game. And now it's over. And they're all dead."
He laughed proudly.
"You see Sam, I don't even really need you. All I need is your power. You have no clue what you can do… Do you?"
There was no reply. Sam just stared into the dark oblivion.
"I didn't think so." A figure emerged, the footsteps heard by Sam. He could barely raise his head to see. But he did, only for a moment.
The man wore a tall black coat, and had deep red eyes. It wasn't the yellow eyed demon. It was something else altogether. Just before Sam lowered his head and moaned in agony, he could see the man holding a vase or urn of sorts.
The demon placed the urn in front of Sam's feet.
"And now, my son can have your power. Unlike any power he could ever have had. He is now free to be his father's apprentice."
Sam had had enough. Through the anguish, he mumbled, "You'll never win."
The demon didn't laugh. "I already did."
He opened the lid, quietly but quickly, and a dark entity flew out. It revolved around the air in circles a few times, and then went downward into Sam. Sam could feel someone else inside him. Like a surge of electricity and water at the same time. He had to fight it off. He had too. But he didn't want to. He just wanted to sleep. He had had enough fighting.
The new Sam raised his head up. His eyes were an inky black, and his father looked satisfied. Sam broke through the ropes and stood up. Just before the demon turned the other way, he could note the frightening smile on his son's face.
Well, that's all. Yes, I know, its not a happy ending. But hey, maybe I could write a sequel.. I havent thought about it yet though. Anyways. Thank you all for reading. I hope you liked the story, and please let me know what you think... Thanks everyone!