Hound Dog
Chapter 1
Sam wasn't quite sure how him and Dean had become separated. Well, scratch that, he realised that whatever they were hunting had mimicked his voice, but he wasn't sure how he had been unable to distinguish his brothers voice from the fake one. They had been running through a series of pathways cut into a rocky gorge, when Dean had veered off the path behind Sam. By the time the youngest Winchester had realised his brother wasn't with him, doubled back and taken the path he thought Dean would have, the eldest Winchester was gone. That was when Sam had run ahead to where the path had forked and then as he stood, unable to decide which route to take, he had heard calls from the real Dean and the fake Dean, one coming from each fork in the road and he had no idea which was which. He'd done the sensible thing and tried to phone Dean's cell, but there was no reception. With no other choice Sam picked the route which had less shelter, meaning he was less likely to be ambushed. Now, however, as the left fork became darker and darker and Sam did not come across his older brother waiting for him, he concluded he had taken the wrong fork. Once again he had tried to do the sensible thing, the thing his Dad or Dean would have, and retraced his steps back to take the right fork, but in the heavily falling darkness he got confused and became lost, completely unarmed as Dean had all the weapons.
As soon as Dean ran off he thought he'd made a mistake. As soon as he heard the thing they were hunting mimic his voice, he knew he'd made a mistake.
"Sam!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, hauling the duffel bag of weapons higher onto his shoulder, "Ignore the other voice, I'm over here!" But with dismay, he realised the fake Dean was shouting almost the exact same thing. Sam was about to walk into a trap with no weapons, thinking he was heading to safety with his older brother. Dean immediately began heading back the way he'd come, watching for Sam's tracks and yelling for his brother the entire time.
Sam cautiously rounded a corner in the pathway gorge. The sun had set completely now and the rocky terrain cast eerie shadows across the path. Suddenly there was an animalistic roar and something smashed into Sam and bowled him over, causing him to smack his head on the rocky wall, making his vision blur. Standing over him was what looked like an enormous hound, and the dangerous looking beast was currently standing on Sam's chest , towering above him and squeezing the last of the oxygen from his lungs. Sam, gasping for air, groped to the side, not taking his eyes off the fangs now inches from his face. Finally his hand found what it sought. Clasping a fair sized rock, he swung it up to make contact with the slavering beasts face, eliciting a sickening crunch. The dog ceased it's growling and snarling to yelp and momentarily dig it's razor sharp claws into Sam's chest.
"Thou shalt be punished fittingly for that, mortal!" It growled in Dean's voice. Then it jumped off and dissolved into black shadow which dissipated slowly. Gasping, his head still swimming, Sam sat up. His head was pounding where the dog had thrown him into the wall. Gingerly, he reached a hand to the back of his head and touched a large, bloody lump. The youngest Winchester groaned. He felt like he was going to throw up and he was extremely dizzy. To keep his mind off it, he glanced down at his shirt. It was ripped and bloodied along with his chest where the supernatural hound's claws had gauged at him. It was his favourite shirt too, Jess had brought it for his birthday one year. Sighing, he slowly got to his feet, gritting his teeth when the pain and nausea got too much. He refused to hurl, when he met up with Dean, he didn't want his brother to have any reason to laugh at him. Staggering, he leaned against the wall heavily, in an attempt to stop the world spinning. There was no doubt in his mind that he was suffering severe concussion and he was also pretty sure that he wasn't far off passing out either. He needed to find Dean. John Winchester had drummed it into them enough times that if they had a head injury they could not sleep unless someone was watching them carefully. He sat down, before he fell down and leant his head against the wall. His breathing was coming in short, sharp, painful gasps and if he'd had the presence of mind, he'd have realised it was because the dog's claws had practically ripped his chest open. But Sam Winchester wasn't entirely with it. His eyes kept drooping and eventually he slipped into unconsciousness, his comatose body slipping sideways until he fell to the floor, blood dribbling from his head wound, pooling on the floor.
A/N- I know its pretty short, but i'm just trying this out. I have a long-ish story in mind and it's my first full length fic so let me know if it's worth continuing!