A/N: This fic has no purpose for existing, other than to amuse me. If you don't like it, or think it blasphemy, I really don't blame you.

Disclaimer: Discworld and Supernatural belong to Kripke and Terry respectively. I own only the lowly worms from the Hub.

Discworld Horror

"All hail the glorious Spacetime Continuum of Paradoxial Planes!"

"ALL HAIL!!!"

Nothing is quite as horrible as waking up to the sound of thousands of voices shouting the same thing, loudly, right near your ear, nor is anything quite as frightening as opening your eyes to see a veritable ocean of people folded in on themselves, bowing to your prone form.

Or so Dean thought, in any case.

"Sam!" Dean croaked in a hoarse whisper. Sam, still out of it, merely groaned and turned over, continuing to snore away in blissful ignorance.

"Sam!!" A kick to the sleeping Sam, and his brother jerked awake with a startled yelp, stumbled to his feet, and blinked stupidly around him in groggy confusion.

An alarming cheer rose from the crowd, a little too awe-struck and hero-worshipful for Dean's comfort. He swallowed uncomfortably and stood himself, wishing he was carrying some sort of weapon. Anything to make him feel more in control and less like he'd woken up to find himself in his worst nightmare.

A hush fell over the bowing crowd, the endless sea of prostrated bodies studded here and there with bald heads peeking up at them, just this side of staring adoringly at their faces.

"Uh... Dean?" Sam choked, his voice dripping with growing horror and disbelief.

"Yeah." A statement more than anything else, as Dean understood quite perfectly just what Sam was feeling at the moment. Because he was feeling the same feelings himself.

"Seriously?" Worried, still disbelieving. Horrified, mostly.

"Yeah. Looks like it."

Sam, looking freaked out of his mind, inched closer to Dean, the only constant, reassuring thing in this... this... GOD knows what.

"What... happened?"

"You tell me, freakin' mojo man," Dean whispered harshly back, not quite sure why he was still whispering, but distinctly sure it was a good idea.

"...What?"

"Don't 'what' me, Sam; you're demon crap is what landed us in this mess." Well, Dean wasn't totally sure of that, but it felt much better than blaming this horror on himself.

"WHAT?"

An 'ahhhhhh' of stifling hero-worship arose from the multitudes at Sam's strangled exclamation. The both of them flinched instinctively, and saw the reverent crowd bow even deeper, a mumbled apology, or... something, rising from the lot of them.

Dean swallowed again. This was so wrong. On so many levels. This was...BEYOND wrong.

"Sam? ....Sam? Get us out of here, please???" He wasn't wimpering, he wasn't whining. Dean didn't whine. Or whimper. EVER. Even if this was so overwhelmingly sick that he would have been entitled to a good whimper if he were into doing such wimpy things.

But before Sam could answer him, a figure rose from the crowd and moved towards them. They watched in horrified fascination as the person... creature... thing moved to the front of the crowd. Stopping in front of them, it bowed again, forehead touching the floor, reverence and god-worship positively seeping out of its hunched form.

"We welcome you, O Gods-of-the-Great-Time-Continuum. We welcome you wholy, O Lords, and pledge our servitude to you for the remainder of life and death on the glorious, second-hand set of dimensions, in the astral plane that was never meant to fly. We who ride on the back of A'Tuin, the great turtle, upon whose back rides Berilia, Tubul, Great T'Phon and Jerakeen, upon whose startanned shoulders the Discworld rests, upon which rests the home of those lowly worms of the Hub, from which spawns all things confusing and horrible and wonderous, from which comes all things evil and good and non-existing, to which you have traveled to through several quintillion atoms, disturbing the harmony of the Sum Totality, wiping out numerous subrealities in the process. To which-"

Dean felt like crying. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. Not real. At all.

"...Dean? What... what's going on?" Dean could only shake his head. There were no WORDS to discribe this unnaturalness.

And to think, it had all started out as a standard hunt.

A simple salt-and-burn, the rabid ghost of a former witch fading to dust in a shower of flaming sparks. If it had been burning away slower than usual, they hadn't noticed.

Of course, a demon just HAD to show up at that precise moment. And Sam, ready as always to use his creepy demon-mojo, had tried to gank it.

It had been quite simple, really, until the demon cast some freaky shit at them, making the flames from the diminishing ghost spark in their direction, swirling them away in a cloud of sickening fumes.

And then he'd woken up to THIS. Yes, after all they'd seen, done and experienced, this had to top it all.

"Wake up now, wake up now, goddamnit all, WAKE UP NOW!!"

Sam jumped, and the little man... thing bowing before them jumped as well, blurting out a flurry of mumbled apologies. It was rather the last straw for Dean - or, well, the last possible blow to his fragile control - when the little man began kissing his feet. His dirty, mud-covered feet.

"That's IT! We. Wake. Up. NOW!"

And bang... they woke up.

In a grass field, right in front of a four-eyed... Thing sitting on a horse. Who then fell off and landed a few feet in front of them.

It blinked, and before the shell-shocked Dean or Sam could say a word, it beamed brightly and began pumping their hands with unrestrained joy. The Thing opened its mouth, no doubt to speak, but all that came out was something like this:

"!"

The Thing closed its mouth and reached into its blinding jacket-shirt-thing, and pulled out a black book which it immediately began flipping through.

Finding what it was looking for, the Thing turned an ecstatic smile on the still-frozen brothers.

"My, my, what a jolly surprise! My, what a happy meeting! My, what an exciting coincedence!" It paused to rifle through the book again. "Who knew that such a thing was possible? What being could have presumed such a thing to be Astropsychologically achievable?" Another pause to search. "I never dreamed the Rim would be such an interesting place! I never imagined the Rim to be such an intriguing location! And I have yet to even land in Ankh-Morpork..."

When a chest-thing sitting on millions of legs tottered forward, stopped in front of them, and flicked a deep red... tongue-thing, Dean started to cry. Shamelessly.

Because he'd actually thought things couldn't get any worse.

A/N: I apologize again for this abomination. :D If you did like it for some strange reason, feel free to review.