Lost soul.
Prolog.
My hands tremble against the steering wheel, beads of sweat licks to my forehead like a second skin. I'm going to die, I guess deep down I always knew. It just came a lot later than I first expected.
The Impala is running low on gas, its old engine coughing in disapproval by every sudden turn. The Angels are gaining by every ten meters, their low silver McLarens a constant, growing shadow.
By this rate they will capture me, and use my body as a vessel. Harvest my memories and abuse my soul until it finally shatters. I am not afraid of dying, I can accept death. I could even accept them using my body as a walking meat suit, but they want more than that. They want the last human survivors left on this "godforsaken" earth. They want my family, and I would never let that happen. Could not let that happen.
They would use my memories against me, they would destroy everything I have fought for, everything I love, and use my face while doing so. I only have one way out of this; death. To die before they capture me, to render my body so useless and demolished that they never will be able to puzzle it back together.
Dean is going to kill me for destroying his baby—Claire and Sam to—But for different reasons. I know that I let them down by getting caught. I know what my death will do to them.
The wind howls at me, screaming for me to slow down. The road is deserted, rolled out before me like a grey knitted carpet. The sky is a dusky blue while the sun is set low, framing the horizon in a golden lining. It's a beautiful day. A beautiful day to die, how morbid.
My feet hit the emergency break, causing the wheels to lock. The impala skids on the hot asphalt, and I quickly turn the wheels towards the opposite lain, until I stand face to face with the silver McLarens, then I let everything go and hit the accelerator, one last time. The Impala shoots forward, quick and deadly like a bullet being fired.
Everything happens in slow-motion. The Angels tries to evade me, but it's too late. I take some pride in that, after everything they took away from me. At least I will get the satisfaction to take something away from them. Ten years ago I would have made a silent prayer, but now I just want to spit in gods' smug face.
It burns, but only for a second. The Impala swallows me, its metal caving inwards from the impact. I can almost feel the explosion starting to build from the shock wave. It hurts; it hurts more than I thought it would. It's a burning sort of pain, spreading from my heart and pumping fire out thru my veins until it feels like I'm drowning. Then everything goes blank, and darkness swallows me.
The last thing I see before the curtains finally falls are Claire and Sam next to the old lake house. Their cheeks are sun kissed and freckled, eyes bright with a sort of new found hope I never thought I would feel again after the Take Over. It was a great day, even in a world filled with Angels.