On a stormy night Dean saw him: The old man with the glowing beet, which dangled like a lantern in his hand. A strong scent of decay wafted in the cold air. Dean put a hand over his nose trying to protect himself against the smell, though nausea still crept up. His stomach clenched and he desperately fought the rising bile in the back of his throat.
He knew - one sound and everything would be over. Nausea became worse. Dean closed his eyes, before he bent forward and puked.
That's the end. That's it. In a moment it would catch him. Lacerate him. He felt its warm breath right in front of his face. Something clammy smeared over his skin. Dean groaned desperately.
Suddenly he heard a voice. "Next time I won't buy so much Halloween candy for you!"
"Sammy?" Dean murmured astonished, recognizing his little brother right besides him.
It had only been a dream, though his belly was still aching.