Dean kicked the heavy chest again and again. Wood and bone splintered. He growled, still kicking, sliding back, twisting and finally pulled his foot free. His boot stayed. He staggered up, gagging at then ignoring the pain.
Sam sagged in the creature's grip, toes barely touching the floor. Lips, eye swelling, he blinked through concussion, nausea and pain. He peered dazedly into the darkness behind the beast.
Sam smiled, blood running down his chin. He stared cross-eyed into the close hideous face, whispering.
"Now you're going to get it." Sam fell, legs giving out.
Dean swung the silver machete hard.