Oh dear God, please, let it be a dream.
Then she touched him, the texture of her skin against his harsh and unyielding, and hope was destroyed.
Soul flayed, he pulled away from her, a hoarse cry of agonized fear tearing loose, hanging in the air. Helpless, hopeless, he struck at her with the guitar and the instrument's body shattered into pieces, leaving him with the neck hanging limp in his hand.
He moaned, low, guttural.
"Dean." Her lips curved in a terrible smile. Her eyes were as black as the darkest night.
"It's so good to see you again."