This is set around the start of season two and will feature Ellen because I love the dynamic she has going on with the boys. Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Supernatural other than seasons 1-7 on DVD.
The hunt goes south the minute they step out of the Impala.
It starts to rain, fine driving lines that come at them horizontally and leave them dripping and miserable as they head into the dense cluster of imposing trees. The wind is picking up, causing fallen leaves to dance around their ankles as they make a bid for freedom and Sam has to strain to hear as a gust steals at Dean's voice, carrying the instructions away in a flurry of biting cold. He hunkers further into his jacket, gaze constantly moving yet keeping a watchful eye on the back of his brother's head as they march onwards towards their target. His head is swimming, heart slamming against his ribs as he realises that they're essentially going into this blind. They can barely hear each other above the roar of the wind, let alone the snapping of a twig that could be the difference between life and death.
There is no path. They walk on, stumbling occasionally as they clamber over exposed roots and stones as they head deeper into the mass of trees. Sam's hair is plastered to his head, fat drops collecting at the ends of the sodden strands before they make their escape en mass and he swipes at the bangs obscuring his view. All he can see of his brother is the icy fog of his breath, staccato bursts of white against the blackness of the forest as he surges ahead. A few paces ahead of his brother, Dean pauses, hitching his duffle higher onto his shoulder as the first bolt of brilliant white-hot lightening slices at the sky. It surges through the clearing, throwing the brothers into short-lived relief and the shadows shift fleetingly, a flash of grey catching Dean's eye as something moves behind the cover of the trees.
It charges Sam, a blur of sallow, emaciated flesh that hits him with the force of a freight train as it lashes out. Long, ragged talons slash through the layers of waterlogged clothing covering Sam's chest before Dean can free the knife from the sopping denim that clings to his leg, vital seconds wasting away as Sam struggles against the claws hacking at his raw flesh. He runs distraction, fires at the thing, bullet grazing the harsh angle of its shoulder blade and it howls, a caustic, piercing scream that carries over the roar of the wind and rain as it turns towards him and causes his breath to catch in his throat. He spins on his heel as it launches itself at him, red eyes flashing menacingly as it advances and he can just about make out Sam's anguished shout as he disappears into the surrounding mass of trees.
He's running, breath coming in ragged gasps as it bears down on him. The trees are bigger, older, in this part of the forest, their sprawling roots rising up through puddles of muddy rainwater and he glances back over his shoulder as he skips over them, adrenaline making his heart pound desperately against his ribcage.
It barrels into him, driving him forwards as he falls. He hits the ground hard, curling up as it swipes at his head and he can feel its claws piercing the skin at the back of his neck. He kicks out, his boot connecting with something solid and he lashes out, desperately tries to buy himself some time as he scrambles to his feet. It lunges at him and he feels pain radiating up his neck as it connects. The impact sends him crashing backwards into a weathered oak, his head connecting painfully with the gnarled trunk as the creature rears up in front of him, fangs bared in victory as it prepares to strike for the last time.
His knife is out of reach, the blade glinting mockingly as lightning flashes overhead.
This is it. The End.
Its arm starts to move, comes down towards his exposed neck and its almost as if time has stopped; He's watching in slow motion as he waits, eyes closed in defeat, for the feel of its talons ripping into the sensitive skin over his jugular.
His eyes fly open when he hears Sam's cry, chest heaving as relief floods through his veins, and it whips round, fixing his brother with its bloodthirsty stare. He reaches for the knife, arm shaking as he feels for it and his fingers curl around the cold metal of the handle. He lunges, driving the silver blade deep into the creature's chest and it shrieks, an abrasive cutting noise that makes him feel like someone is drilling into his skull as it drops, pinning him to the tree.
He can't seem to drag his eyes away.
He looks up to see Sam standing in front of him, worry clouding his features and his eyes automatically zoom in on the rivers of blood streaming from the gashes on his little brother's cheek and the way Sam is cradling his right arm. He huffs, closing his eyes and lets his head fall back as he tries to steady his breathing enough to answer.
Please review if you have any comments :)