Hi guys! I've been busy and am about to get busier, with the writing that is. Here's the latest:
This is a stand alone ficlet written for a prompt table community on LJ. There'll be 30 of them by the time I'm done. Was waiting on my request to join the community to be approved so I can post this and thought I'd share it with everyone over here. The prompt table I chose was themed 'Elemental' and the prompt itself was just the one word 'Dark'. Let me tell you, it sure turned out that way.
The usual disclaimer applies: I don't own the car, the boys or anything to do with the Supernatural show. Just taking them for a little joyride through my imagination.
Also, just a quick warning that there is character death involved with this particular piece, so if you're not into that kind of thing you might want to turn back now.
Otherwise, enjoy the read!
Black as Pitch
The night around them is dense as tar and just as heavy, weighing down their bodies and slowing them down. The dark fell on them like rain and gulped them up whole at dusk. They had become nothing more than shadows in the night, unrecognizable even to each other. It's a daunting prospect to hunt a killer beast well armed and unable to see the hand in front of your face. How do you know you won't mistake a brother or a lover for the thing you're trying to kill? You don't. You just close your eyes, shoot and pray.
There's a rustle somewhere to the left and, as usual, Cal does something reckless. Her high pitched scream echoes as if they're in a canyon which is messed up because the air is so thick it's physically pressing in on them. Normally hearing Cal scream isn't such a bad thing. At least they know she's okay as long as she's vocal, but this time it's just a short, sharp curse and then everything goes quiet. Not the sound of Cal's voice, no owls hooting or insects chirping, not even any leaves rustling in the trees overhead.
For a fraction of a moment Dean thinks: this is it. This time I've lost her for sure. He wastes time indulging in red hot anger because it's always the same. Every damned time they walk into a hunt she has to just jump right in with both feet, chasing after whatever the hell it is. Only this time it's too dark to tell what's going on. So, it's 'keep your fingers crossed folks' with any luck she'll come out of it okay in the end. Somehow he knows, deep down in his gut, this time is the last time. They'll find her disemboweled hanging from the trees in the morning.
"Dean? Over here." Sam's voice floating in his ears adding to the odd surreal feeling that had wrapped itself around them from that very first step into the woods. "Sam?" It's a relief to see the flame dancing four feet off the ground, the weak light cast by the zippo showing him the way. Three steps and they're inches away from each other, Sam gesturing to something just over his shoulder. Someone. Oh. Damn! There's nothing worse than being right.
Dean reaches over and flips the zippo closed, letting his hand rest on Sam's. He counts the moments in heartbeats, letting one pass, then two and a third last one before letting go and turning away. He wishes the dark hadn't been broken, wishes he could unsee her like that and undo what couldn't be undone. Dean's silent goodbye isn't nearly enough, would never be enough. He knows that whatever happens, even if he and Sam kill the thing and walk out of that godforsaken forest come morning, none of it would matter. He'd be stuck there forever, haunted by her face and surrounded by a darkness as black as pitch.