Soul Survivors

By

Valtira

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Sam or Dean Winchester, like everyone else I wish I did. I'm sure you can all guess what my birthday wish was!

Author's note: I wrote this before Bloody Mary came out – it was way to similar so I have changed, rearranged and added a few characters. Hope you like.

Chapter 1 For Whom the Bell Tolls

They were hunters, hunting both the living and the dead. Only a few knew of their calling, but those few had seen the destruction and lived to tell about it, vowing to keep their secret.

Not all of the hunters' contacts had been so lucky. Many had not survived their encounters with the darkness and it tore at the hunters.

Now they hunted for one of their own. Their father obsessed with finding the evil creature that had taken his wife had gone missing nearly three months ago. The trail had gone cold but that didn't stop them. He had left behind his journal. A book filled with events of the most unusual kind. Anyone who read it would have thought it a work of Fiction or an over active imagination. The hunters knew better. Everything in the book was real, devils, demons, ghosts and poltergeists. They had encountered the creatures first hand, barely surviving some of the encounters. It was their strength, resourcefulness and the bond of brotherhood that kept them alive.

Their own history had not been gentle; their mother had been taken from them when they were very young. The darkness now claimed her as one of its own. Fire had consumed her, drawn her out of their world and into a world they were only now beginning to understand. It was a place of darkness of pure evil, a place that stole men's bodies and devoured their souls.

Dean stood leaning against the front fender of the car. He was a handsome young man, but his upbringing had been rather unusual. He was comfortable with weapons, handling guns, knives, swords and even explosives had been a big part of his young life. He was a warrior, yet his was a jaded soul, he had learned many things growing up. How to read people, this talent had kept him alive on more than one occasion, but there were other things learned that if he stopped to think about it would have bothered him. He had learned to lie, cheat and even steal to stay alive. Over the years he had learned to hide himself away. Not just change his appearance but hide his feelings and emotions, walling him away from any who might try to get close or love him.

He had learned early on that no matter how much you loved someone, they always went away. His mother had gone away, now his father had gone, even his little brother had left him, choosing instead to seek a life that didn't include chasing ghosts and goblins. Dean sighed in frustration and regret as he looked at his brother. Sammy was back.

Sam was nothing like him. Honest to a fault he had a hard time dealing with the lies they told day after day. Lies that usually ended up saving someone's life didn't mean that it wasn't still a lie. Most had been little lies, as they pretended to be cops or reporters, scientists or game wardens doing their utmost to gain access to places and situations where the darkness had struck.

Like his brother Dean, Sam had seen too much. He'd been only a baby when his mother had been taken. He had overheard his father describing the scene, blood dripping from the ceiling where his mother had been held. Her face white and terrified as fire erupted around her consuming her. He had seen it first hand when his fiancée was taken. Seen her face, seen the terror in her eyes, but he had been helpless to save her. He had even dreamed of it days before but had brushed it aside, chalking it up to stress and his brothers' dark forebodings. Now it was too late.