The sound of footsteps jostled everyone to their feet. Not that anyone was really relaxed. No one could relax here. The footsteps were fast, light. The steps of a man who had spent a lot of time running. I inched closer to the fire and looked over at James, wanting my last moments to be warm before the Winchester boy came.

"It's just Clémont," James stated. "I don't smell human." Everyone took a long sniff and cautiously sat back down around the fire, once they felt satisfied that the Winchester wasn't nearby. The sounds of Clémont's feet against the ground grew louder until he burst through the forest. Panic flooded his face.

"He saw me! I barely got away." he choked out in hurried gasps.

"Is he following you?" James inquired quickly. No one needed to ask whom Clémont was referring to.

"I think I may have lost him."

"Don't be so sure. He's the best. We should move," James instructed. Without another word, the group packed up their few belongings and headed through the forest. Clémont and I hung in the back with James, keeping an eye out for the Winchester.

"What was it like?" I whispered to Clémont. I had never seen the Winchester; I'd only heard stories and rumors. They were never very detailed, since few ran into the Winchester and survived.

"It was… surreal," he said under his breath, practically to himself. "It felt like I was one of those thick-headed mortals meeting their God. He was terrifying and mighty..." Clémont trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

"You shouldn't say such ridiculous things," James chastised.

"I'm serious. There was something stronger about him."

"Do you think he's a god? Or a demi-god?" I asked curiously.

"What would a demi-god be doing in Purgatory?" James glared at me. "Use your brain." I was about to make a wiseass comment, but James was the leader of the group. I couldn't afford to be on my own in Purgatory. I was lucky that James had taken me in. There were enough demons in the pack to fend off other groups, but having more members in the group was a death sentence.

I wished I could make him know how grateful I was.

"Wait, do you smell something?" Clémont asked loudly. Everyone in the pack stopped and raised their noses to the air.

"Definitely human," someone said.

"Let's take the bastard down!" a voice angrily suggested.

"Fool, you've seen the remains of the packs killed by the Winchester. You've heard the stories. We're not strong enough. We need to keep moving," James ordered.

"He'll keep hunting us down! Why not try and end it now?" The voice was from Martez. He was a young vampire, still convinced he was completely invincible. Funny since he'd already died. James only let him in because young vamps were extremely powerful, but James wasn't particularly attached to him. If Martez had a speck of sense in him, he'd shut up before James killed him. "He's just a human," Martez insisted.

Apparently, he didn't have that speck of sense.

"Yes, he's a human. But he's not just a human," James sauntered over to Martez as he spoke. He closed in on his face, barely an inch away, "He's more powerful than you could ever hope to be. He will take you down easily, just like he's down with thousands of other demons."

"You almost say that with admiration."

James pulled back and glowered at Martez.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." In one swift motion, James cut Martez's head off with the knife he always kept with him. "Now, let's get moving, please?"