He was just a young man, watching his stupid programs at night. He made sure to do it when it was dark and everybody was asleep, just so his little sister wouldn't run crying to her mother about the bloody, scary, and not to mention graphic programs her brother wasn't supposed to be watching. She was only three, but still. It was annoying.
He sat back, checking the time. It was just coming up on eleven when he saw his show finally come on. He smiled to himself, pleased as he watched the opening credits pass. Yet his smile vanished when he heard his sister crying.
She was probably having another nightmare. She seemed to have those a lot, but he had no idea why. She hadn't even seen his shows nor experienced anything remotely startling all her life. Again, she was only three years old. She had nothing to be afraid of.
Her crying continued, and escalated within seconds to mortified sobbing. His mom would have gotten up to calm her down by now, but for some reason she didn't. The teenager reluctantly paused the television show, going downstairs to see what the fuss was about.
Going down the stairs, he could barely see anything. The lights were all off and not even the porch light was on outside to drive away vermin that hated the daylight. Maybe they had a power outage.
He still kept his calm, not caring much about the light. He simply kept his hand on the stairs railing as he ventured down. The rail came to its end, and he now had to stick to his memory of where to go. He walked down the cold tile, knowing that furniture to run into was only on the carpet.
Yet the cold on the tile suddenly stopped. The tile was warm and wet. Had the plumbing gone weird, too? Maybe a pipe exploded and his little sister had simply threw a fit over being startled? He couldn't figure out what was going on, exactly.
As these thoughts raced through his slowly suspicious mind, he realized his little sister wasn't crying anymore.
"Natalie?" He spoke up quietly, walking across the warm puddle. As he went forward, it just got warmer and warmer. Maybe the pipe exploded in her room.
Once he reached the dark doorway, he felt around for the light switch, hoping that still worked. He turned it on, and his heart skipped a beat as his expression dropped in horror.
The puddle he was stepping in trailed from the doorway to about two feet away by the stairs. The puddle was red. It was coming from Natalie.
He dropped to his knees, picking her up. She was bleeding bad; she probably lost a liter of blood already. He pulled her to his face, listening for her heartbeat. It was gone.
"Nat. . . Nat?" He whimpered, feeling his eyes hot with tears. What happened to her? Was - was somebody in the house?
He stopped at the thought, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms. He listened in the silence and looked around in the dark as his heart beated faster than he could have ever imagined.
The only being breathing here was himself. Suddenly he turned, feeling the instinct to. He heard a low growl.
Suddenly he was shoved to the floor, letting go of his sister involuntarily. He shouted for her, but knew she was long gone. He watched as his little sister's limp corpse rolled across the room, hitting her old bed.
At the last split second his heart stopped when he saw Natalie in the moonlight. The reason her heart wasn't beating was because it was gone. There was a huge gaping hole in her.
Before he could scream in horror, everything went dark. Darker than it already was. He felt everything being torn in separate directions in his chest, and it was more than just emotion causing this burning feeling. Before he could take any more of it, his breath stopped as well.
He was just in the beginning of a Supernatural episode.