Disclaimer – Supernatural and its characters are not of my possession.

Sorry it's been a while. Although there isn't many fans out there ;) So I guess it's more for my own personal practice. Anyway, enjoy.

Sam's POV

I didn't have time for this. If I didn't do something soon then Dean was going to die. There was less than five minutes to go before the demon murdered him, and the key was nowhere to be seen. I rushed out the door, slamming it ferociously on my way out. The corridors were of an eerie darkness, and they were as cool as ice. It was rather refreshing actually, compared to the stuffy cupboard we were spending the night in. What the hell is wrong with me! Dean was about to be slaughtered!

Beep beep

That was my watch telling me it was midnight.

Holy shit. This can't be happening I thought. The clock in the room said I had at least five minutes! The vision definitely said midnight. Dean was being brutally murdered by the soulless whore. RIGHT NOW.

Then I remembered. My watch had always been four minutes fast. I kept meaning to turn it back, but if I woke up in a morning and realised that I actually had a bit more time to sleep, I felt pretty great.

For God's sake, the time I just wasted rambling away in my own head. Enough was enough. Dean wasn't going to die simply because I can't focus on one thing for more than five minutes, which is odd because I was at college with my friends not all that long ago. Man I miss those guys. I just took off with no explanation and-

For fuck sake!

I continued to sprint towards the lift. Why did we have to get a room on the second floor? Dean only chose it because he enjoys the sensation of his testicles when the lift moves. Idiot. Approaching the elevator door, I frantically pressed the button multiple times.

What was taking it so long! I didn't have time for this. The stairs were right by me; I could run down them way quicker. This was the obvious choice to make, so I began to run at a rapid pace. I checked my watch. It said 00:01, meaning I had three minutes before the ordeal happened. There was no one but me to save him from eternal damnation in hell, and I couldn't risk wasting anymore time.

The car was parked directly in front of the hotel. Thank God the car park was full; it would've taken me ages to locate it in this lighting.

I really hadn't thought this through. The colt was in the trunk, and I didn't have a key. Why the hell did I come out here! If the car had central locking I could easily break in through the window, but breaking into a trunk is a whole different story. Curse Dean's obsession with old cars. I should've just stayed in the room, set up a trap, recite an exorcism, not as easy as it sounds but hey. I had no other choice.

My watch said 12:02. Two bloody minutes! I had to get in that trunk. I looked around to see what I could find. Pulling at the trunk really didn't do any good, I needed that key! My eyes darted all over the place, desperately looking for a solution, and then my eyes focussed on the driver's door.

He left the keys in the door handle. What a twat. It could've been so easily stolen! A vintage Chevrolet Impala is hardly cheap as chips, or as common as house spiders. Enough of the rambling though, this was evidently a great thing, thank God for his careless manner, and I didn't hasten to unlock the trunk and open the case containing our collection of guns.

The colt wasn't there.