E/O Drabble Challenge

Challenge word: CRACK

Word Count: Triple Drabble - 300

Other players in the challenge are now too many to list here! There are lots of people tending this Supernatural garden. You can find the list of names at Enkidu07's profile page and/or OnyxMoonbeam's profile page. Also, to find all of the lovely drabbles, there's a sweet little C2 community out there to subscribe to and enjoy. You can find the link on their profile pages mentioned above.

Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.

ALL DOLLED UP

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Pretty Patsy's face was smooth, innocent porcelain but for her mouth which had cracked into a wicked red and very toothsome smile. Her glass eyes swiveled with evil intent, locking on the tall hunter currently surveilling the room. She eased off the shelf with a soft thump, stalked quietly to her prey.

Without warning, Sam found himself pinned with tiny porcelain hands digging into his throat. He tugged desperately at the doll attempting to pry her away with no success. He grunted and tossed his head, his feet rhythmically drumming the floor as she cut off his air. "De…" he choked. His back arched off the floor as the fingers tightened. His fist to her blonde, curl-covered head resulted only in a series of black cracks crawling across her face.

Tongues of darkness began to crowd his vision, blocking her gleaming, scheming gaze. He heard a distant shout followed by an utterly inhuman shriek then soon the whoosh and crackle of flame. Air rushed back into neglected lungs as he lay gasping. A helping hand on his shoulder brought him upright. "D-Dean…" Sam swallowed roughly. "Th—Thanks, man."

"You okay?"

Sam rubbed at the medallion of bruising decorating his throat. "Yeah, yeah—I'm fine."

Dean helped his brother stand and brushed gently at his neck, inspecting the damage. He lightly cuffed Sam's ear with a cupped palm. "You'll live." He then began to chuckle.

Sam looked at him, a quizzical brow rising toward his hairline. "What's so funny?"

"Dude, you—six foot five gargantuan you—were brought down by a doll."

Sam scowled. "An evil, possessed doll, Dean."

"Yeah, but still—a doll!" hooted Dean.

"Shaddup."

A flurry of sound interrupted Dean's merriment. The hunters froze, suddenly finding themselves surrounded.

"Aw, hell," muttered Dean. "She wasn't the only one possessed."

FIN