So, this is my new story. It is the sequel to The Apple Doesn't Fall Far and is story number three in my Three Brothers series.

Summary: Someone is seeking revenge on John, Dean and Daniel by going after the youngest Winchester. Will they be able to find out who seeks revenge and will they be able to stop them before the ultimate price is paid by their most cherished family member? We may once again be seeing Bobby, Caleb and Joshua. Other OC's from the previous story may also make appearances. Takes place a year after The Apple... except the prologue. Sam is 19, Dean is 23 and Daniel is 24.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that you recognize from the TV show Supernatural. I do own the original characters.



Just outside Boulder Colorado-January 14, 2002

Randy Gregory, tall with a muscular build, stood shaking, his body pressed as tightly as it could get against the wall of his grand livingroom, his eyes glued, wide with terror, to the steadily splintering door of the coat closet that stood near the front door of his country estate. He cried out in fear every time the loud thud would sound from within the closet and the thick wood would splinter more. The low, throaty growl that came from inside the closet frightened the large man even more and he pressed further into the wall, his body paralyzed with fear as the wood began to crack.

In all of his forty nine years, Randy Gregory could honestly say he had never been this scared. Not even close. He let out a terrified scream as sharp claws crashed through the crack in the closet door and began to rip away the wood, vicious snarls emitting through the steadily disintegrating door. Randy stole a glance to his left, his large hands closing tightly around the fire poker he had grabbed after he had somehow gotten the creature in the closet and locked it in. He let out a pain filled cry when his eyes found the shredded, bloody remains of his wife of twenty seven years lying not ten feet away. The small, once beautiful blonde barely resembled a human anymore. Every bit of flesh on her body was ripped and torn, the deep teeth marks the creature had left visible even from where Randy stood. Her face was gone, her scalp was ripped away.

Randy swallowed hard, his eyes filled with tears of anguish. The sound of the door ripping free from it's hinges had the man jerking his head around, another scream tearing past his lips as the large black and silver furred head of what could only be a wolf appeared from the dark closet, teeth bared, drool dripping to the hardwood floor below.

"N-No…please…no…" Randy cried as the wolf moved stealthily toward him, the deep growl from the creature causing the hairs to stand up on the terrified man's neck.

Randy's eyes remained locked on the wolf, the man mesmerized by the gray, intelligent eyes of his wife's killer. Something inside of Randy stirred, an inkling of recognition. He knew those eyes, had looked into them nearly every day for the past nineteen years. But, it couldn't be. It was impossible. Randy pulled away from the wall, his head cocked ever so slightly to the left.

"D-David?" the man's frightened, shaky voice whispered.

The wolf stopped, it's jaw closing as it peered curiously at the trembling man before it. It cocked it's head as it sniffed at the air and Randy could swear he saw recognition flicker in the gray eyes that stared back at him. The events that followed happened in a flurry of violence, all hell breaking loose in the once elegant room.

Both man and beast jerked their heads toward the front door as it was smashed in, a dark haired man with even darker, wild eyes bursting in, rifle raised and aimed at the snarling, circling wolf. Two younger men, both appearing to be in their early twenties, rushed in behind the older man, their own weapons raised as they covered him.

"Get down!" the youngest looking of the two younger men shouted as he circled to the right of the oldest man.

Suddenly, the wolf leapt at the man who had just shouted, it's jaws snapping as it barreled toward him. The man jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp teeth of the wolf. He wasn't, however, able to avoid it's claws. A pain filled grunt tore from the man's lips as the claws ripped into his shoulder, spinning him around and dropping him to the floor, causing him to lose his grip on his weapon, the pistol skittering away across the smooth surface.

"Dean!" the other young man cried as he instantly started toward his injured comrade.

"Daniel! No…" the older man shouted, his rifle already back on the snarling wolf.

"Dad…I have to get to Dean!" Daniel screamed just as the wolf leapt in the air for another attack.

A loud, ear splitting bang filled the air, followed by an anguished scream and the wolf dropped to the floor at the oldest man's feet, dead before even one hair touched the hard surface.

"Noooooo!" the man who had been huddled by the wall screamed as he tore across the floor, stopping abruptly when his eyes fell to the quickly changing form before him.

"Daniel, get to your brother," John instructed as he stepped aside, allowing the grief stricken man to pass by him.

Daniel moved across the entry way and crouched down, his hands grasping his younger brother's uninjured arm as he gently pulled the man to his feet.

"You okay, Dean?" Daniel asked worriedly, his eyes moving to the blood soaked material that covered Dean's shoulder.

"'m fine," Dean answered breathlessly, his eyes moving to the sobbing man who by this time had dropped down next to the body of the wolf.

"Did it bite you?" John shot, his dark eyes gazing intently the youngest man.

"No…I'm fine…it didn't bite me."

John looked down as the distraught man began to sob harder. He eyed the man curiously, realizing at that moment that he must have known the poor soul who had been turned by the werewolf curse.

"Oh my God…David…h-how…how?" the man sobbed, his arms encircling the now fully turned body of a young man.

John crouched down just as Daniel and Dean stepped up to him, the younger held firmly around his waist by the eldest. John reached out and rested his hand on the man's shoulder. The man jerked away from his touch, his wide, red eyes darting up to John's face.

"Are you okay? Did it hurt you?" John asked softly.

The man stared incredulously at John as tears continued to flow down his cheeks. "HE…was my son!" he cried, his voice filled with pain and sorrow.

"I…I'm sorry. He wasn't your son anymore," John said, his eyes moving up to his boys before falling back to the grieving man.

The man sighed and stared sadly up at John. "He'll always be my son," he croaked, breaking into fresh sobs. "You…you killed my baby. How could you do that?"

"Is that your wife there?" Daniel asked softly, his eyes filled with sympathy as the man looked over to the bloody body across the room.

The man nodded slowly, soft whimpers escaping his lips as he gazed at the dead woman.

"I'm sorry mister, but your son killed her and would have continued to kill if we hadn't stopped him. He has killed at least three others before her," Daniel continued sadly.

The man looked up at Daniel, devastation written all over his face. "I don't understand. What…what happened to him?"

"He was a werewolf," Dean answered for his brother.

The man let out a stunned laugh, his eyes staring at the men as if they had suddenly grown three heads. "You're crazy," he whispered as he tugged the body of his son closer to his chest.

"You saw it with your own eyes. I'm sorry, but how else would you explain it?" John asked, his heart going out to the man as his thoughts wandered to his youngest son, so many miles away.

"I…I can't. Werewolves don't exist…they can't exist. They're just made up."

"No. They're real," Dean said softly.

"Sir? Why don't we help you up. I think you're going into shock," Daniel suggested as he reached down to help the trembling man.

"No…I need to stay with him. He's so cold. Is…is my wife going to be okay?" the man asked, his eyes taking on a blank stare.

"Sir…she's…she's dead. I'm sorry…" Daniel started.

"Nonononono…they're both gone. My whole life…gone," the man cried.

John reached out and gently began to pull the dead young man from his father's arms. The man fought him at first, but then he collapsed down onto the floor, his hands falling limply to his sides. New sobs broke free from him as John lifted his son away from him.

"Wh-where are you taking him?" the man asked softly.

"What's your name?" Daniel asked as he crouched down beside the man.

"Randy…Randy Gregory," the man answered.

"Mr. Gregory…we have to…we have to burn his body. Just to be sure," Daniel said, his voice filled with sympathy.

Randy let out an anguished sob, his wide eyes locked on the limp body of his only son. "No. Please."

"Mr. Gregory, it's the only way to make sure that he rests in peace. I…I hate to ask this, but…do you know if your son was recently attacked? Bitten possibly?" Daniel asked.

"Uh…yeah. A few months ago. He and his friend were hiking and they were attacked. Michael was killed, but David…David was only mauled. He was devastated. He and Michael grew up together. They were best friends." Randy stared at his son, his voice void of emotion.

"Mr. Gregory? You're in shock. I'm going to get you up and onto the sofa so you can lie down. My dad and I are going to take care of David while my brother watches over you."

"What about Gayle? She's…oh my God. How do I explain this? She's…she's torn apart."

"Once we take David away, you call the police. Tell them a wolf somehow got into your house and attacked your wife. A door was left open by mistake."

Randy looked up at Daniel and slowly nodded. Daniel grasped his arm and helped him to stand. Instead of moving to the sofa, the man stepped toward John. He reached out and tenderly caressed his son's cold cheek. He leant over and placed a loving kiss to the young man's forehead, soft sobs causing his shoulders to shake. He looked up at John, his pleading eyes breaking the hunters heart.

"Will you…will you bury him after…after you…"

John nodded and smiled softly. "Yes, Randy. We'll bury him."

Randy nodded sadly. He stepped back and watched as John and Daniel left the house with his son, knowing he would never see him again. Dean gently guided the man to the sofa and sat down next to him, groaning slightly as the movement pulled on his oozing wound. Randy looked up at him then at his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the man asked.

Dean looked down at his shoulder before returning his gaze back to the man. "I've had worse. I'll be fine."

"I…I guess I owe you and your family some thanks. You saved my life."

"It's what we do."

"I…I really don't feel very thankful. My family is dead. My wife is lying on the floor ten feet behind this couch and my son…my s-son is the one who killed her."

Randy broke into sobs once more as he leaned over, his forehead resting on his knees, hands clasped behind his head. Dean reached out and placed his hand on the man's back, giving as much comfort as he could to the stranger beside him.

"Mr. Gregory…why don't you lie down. You're in shock. You need to lie down and elevate your feet," Dean said softly.

Randy sat up then shifted before listing sideways, his head coming to rest on a fluffy throw pillow. Dean stood and allowed the man room to lift his feet up onto the sofa. He grabbed two more pillows and placed them under the distraught man's knees and feet. Randy placed his arm over his eyes as he continued to weep for his lost family. Dean stood and took a blanket from the armchair next to the sofa and walked over to where the dead woman lay on the floor. He covered her body, shaking his head at the sheer violence it had to have taken to rip her apart so brutally. Once the body was covered, Dean shuffled back to the sofa and sat down in the armchair, his eyes resting on Randy Gregory. He leaned back in the chair, his thoughts turning to Sam. He missed him so much. They all did. He knew what this man was going through. They had nearly lost Sam not once, but twice. He couldn't even imagine his life if his baby brother had been permanently taken away from them. He couldn't have lived with that.

Dean looked up as the front door opened and John and Daniel walked back in. He looked at his watch, not realizing how much time had gone by as he sat there thinking about Sam. John nodded at Dean's silent query and the younger man looked over at Randy.

"Mr. Gregory? It's done," he said sympathetically.

Randy Gregory lowered his arm and glanced sadly up at the men who stood above him. "Could…could you all leave now? I need to call the police and I really don't think you should be here," the man said softly as he sat up, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Mr. Gregory. We're so sorry. If there had been anything else we could have done, we would have. You have to understand that we couldn't let any more innocent people die," Daniel said.

"I know. I don't understand any of this, but…like you said, I saw it with my own eyes. I just…I don't know what I'm going to do."

Daniel nodded before he stepped over to help Dean up from the armchair. The three Winchesters spared one last glance at the devastated man before they headed to the door and stepped through it, leaving Randy Gregory to his grief.


Six Months Later

Darkness was broken only by flickering candlelight in the small cabin as soft chanting sounded from the tall figure who stood within an intricately drawn circle that resembled a snake circling around a black backround with four stars set at North, South, East and West. In the center of the stars was a red diamond and it was upon this diamond that the man stood, his lips moving as the evocation was read. On the floor before the man and outside of the circle was drawn a triangle, white in color, a green circle within.

The man continued to chant, looking up as the last word left his lips. "Shax…" the man whispered and immediately the air began to stir, the flames flickering wildly. A form began to take shape and it was all the man could do to keep from leaving the circle and running in terror from the sight. As the form became complete the man looked upon it with wide, frightened eyes. He straightened his shoulders as he remembered why he was here. He looked upon the strange creature, staring it down as it gazed at him from within the triangle. The creature somewhat resembled a stork with a humanesque torso. When it spoke, it's voice was hoarse, but subtle. It soon turned into a beautiful melody and the man was mesmerized by the voice for a moment.

"You, the magician who has summoned me, what is it that you wish for me to do?" the creature queried, cocking it's birdlike head, it's beady black eyes staring deep into the man's wide ones.

"I command that you, Shax, the Marquis and forty fourth demon of the seventy two, exact my revenge upon those who took everything from me. I command you to make them suffer the worst possible pain," the man said forcefully, his body trembling.

"I am required to carry out all of your wishes. How is it that you would like me to carry out this revenge?"

"Find a boy, a very special boy, and place your curses upon him, one by one. He is not to be killed, but he is to be made to suffer. His suffering is what will bring my enemies to their knees. Your curses will be the first to be visited upon him. Once all three curses have run their course, you will return to Hell and I will summon The President to exact his curses upon the boy."

"And which President will you summon, my lord? There be more than one in the seventy two."

"Marbas. I will summon Marbas."

"Your requests will be carried out. What is the name of this boy whom you wish to curse?"

"Before I give you his name, I command that you take the form of a man so that you can walk among other men."

"I do not take the form of man, my lord."

"You will take the form of man if I so command. There are those that hunt all sorts of supernatural beings. In your current form, you will be easy to spot. You must be able to get close to the boy."

"As you command, my lord."

The creature began to tremble and twist as it changed before the man's eyes. Within moments, a man of average height stood before the taller man, his eyes as black as night. As black as a birds. The taller man nodded his approval and smiled.

"If I please my lord, may I now have the name?"

"His name is Sam Winchester. He is the son and brother of hunters. The youngest of the Winchesters. His suffering will be their agony."

"I will find him, my lord and then my curses will be laid upon him, one by one. He will suffer and his family will suffer."

"Shax, as you stand in the triangle remember, you cannot deceive me. Place your first curse upon the boy then three days after place the second. Three days after that, place the third. Once the third curse has been laid, return to the triangle and you will be returned to Hell."

"As you wish, my lord."

With a nod from the taller man, the demon stepped from the triangle and promptly disappeared. The tall man turned, his smile cold. Tonight would begin the revenge he so craved. The Winchesters would pay for what they did. They would pay the steepest price.


Okay, that's the start. I hope you all enjoyed and are interested enough to come back for more. As this is a work in progress, there will not be a daily update. My goal is to have at least one chapter per week, possibly two, time permitting. Thanks for reading and I hope you will let me know what you think. Take care.


A/N: Shax and Marbas are two of the seventy two demons listed in the 17th Century grimoire Key of Solomon. The magician, or goeticuses the practice of goetia to summon or evoke the demon in order for the demon to do the summoners bidding. The demons are referred to as Marguis, Duke, President, etc and have certain powers that the summoner can command them to use. The magician is anyone who has the proper spell to recite. They must draw the symbol for the demon on parchment paper then draw the two symbols portrayed in the story in order to evoke the demon.