The blood weeps like tears from the grievous wounds…blood rises to my lips and spills unhindered over their crest, a slow wending river of my life slipping down to join it's brethren on my saturated shirt…my unbelieving eyes stare out from under heavy lids at the one who has ushered me toward Death's waiting arms…my father…flesh of my flesh…blood of my blood…only,…it is not really him…he is but a visage for the true monstrosity that dwells inside him…the harbinger of my death…of my brother's ruin…Azazel…the evil that has torn our family asunder…he has come finally to take what he claimed with his own blood…Sam…