I'd Never Tell You

The Church was a sanctuary; a place of quiet reflection and most importantly, a place to draw ever closer to the Most High. It's congregation ever growing, prosperous in faith and hope in the small town of Blue Earth, Minnesota.

A place where nothing bad ever happened. A place that was safe, secure. Residents knowing each other from childhood to adulthood. A close-knit community.

At their core, was their leader. Pastor Jim Murphy had been its pastor since his father had died, leaving him the place that had been his second home since boyhood.

The congregation trusted him. He was their leader, and an incredibly patient and kind one, too. Each Sunday, Jim preached the good news as he spoke confidently and lovingly to his people, telling them that everything was okay, that all the violence and strife in the world, would soon come to an end.

It was what he didn't tell them that concerned him the most. The truth that some of the violence in the world, wasn't man-made. Some of it was crafted by various demons, spirits and other supernatural entities that only existed in people's worst nightmares.

It had been getting worse. The signs of demonic possession had steadily climbed over the last few months. No one was safe from them, either. More and more, demons were finding a way into the most innocuous of places, and finding their next host.

The Church was the only place he felt safe. It was built on sacred, hallowed ground. The only land that made it impossible for a demon to cross through.

It gave him hope.

It gave him a reason to believe that his faith would carry him through the darkest, roughest of times if he only believed, if he only led with love and exterminated as many of the demons as he possibly could in order to protect himself, and the people around him.

Weekday mornings were his favorite times to be at the Church. No one was hardly ever around, and it gave him quiet time to reflect on past happenings, and read his Bible.

A gust of wind, (nothing out of the ordinary with the broken furnace), nearly blew out the candles that he had lit when he had first come in. Glancing up at it briefly as he perused his Bible, he shook it off as he returned to his precious reading.

When the doors opened, he glanced up. A young woman, early to mid twenties (by his approximation), and dressed in the kind of clothing that only attracted the wrong kind of attention.

"Good morning," he said, as he slowly made his way toward her, as she took a seat in one of the pews closest to him. "Can I help you?"

"I kinda...I need to talk."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," he said, smiling as he stood in front of her, grasping the back of one of the pews, as he listened to her.

"I've done some things. Not good things."

A troubled soul searching for redemption. How many times had he held impromptu counseling sessions in order to assure the fractured youth out there that there was a light at the end of the tunnel?

"Well, there's always forgiveness for us if we seek it."

Nothing gave him greater joy or pleasure than saying those words to someone. It was a promise to someone who meant to change, an assurance of something greater beyond this cruel, uncaring world.

"For everyone?" she looked up, her eyes unsure, searching. "Are you sure?"

He smiled softly. "I like to say: Salvation was created for sinners. Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well, I've lied. A lot." That revelation hardly dented his face. Most often when people confessed a sin, the greatest one that they broke, was lying. "I've stolen. I've lusted. And the other day, I met this man. A nice guy, you know? And we had a really good chat. Sorta like this. Then I slit his throat, and ripped his heart out through his chest."

In an instant, her eyes changed; became the black orbs that Jim had so often fought against. A demon. How, though? It should be impossible. The Church was on hallowed ground. How could this demon be freely wandering in like that?

Backing away slowly, he reached for a weapon, only to realize that he had left most of them in his secret room downstairs.

"I know what you are," he said, as she stood to follow him. "You can't be here. This is hallowed ground!"

"Please," she said with a scoff, "that might work on the minor leagues. But not with me."

Turning and running full tilt toward his office, he barely paused as he caught the stairs two at a time, and ran into the room directly at the bottom of the stairs.

Securing the door with a solid plank of wood, he assessed his weapon choices before selecting a silver one to use against her, as the door flew open, revealing the blond demon as she prowled in slowly.

Without wasting a second, he lunged the knife at her. It was pointless. Her reflexes were sharper as she easily caught the knife, and cornered him.

"You throw like a girl."

"What do you want?"

Why go to all this trouble if she didn't want something? Obviously he had something that she wanted, or she thought he had something she wanted. You could never be quite sure with demons. Most

"The Winchesters."

Cold dread filled his bloodstream as he looked at her. He had known John Winchester for over twenty years, ever since he had first brought his two boys, Sam and Dean, to his home for safe keeping after he had received a tip about the death of his wife.

Over the years, they had grown even closer. While Jim didn't agree with making children be soldiers in a battle they didn't understand, he admired and respected their love and devotion to one another.

"I haven't spoken to John Winchester in over a year. You're wasting your time," he said, as she came ever closer, "and even if I did know where they were, I'd never tell you."

"I know."

As used his blade to slash his throat, he tried to find peace in his death. It was a noble way to die, laying down his life in order to protect the life of another.

It was preferable. At least this way, the demon would have a harder time of finding John and the boys. They had been looking for him for months, he had been a frequent sounding board for them when they had called with a concern of theirs.

As he felt himself slipping into that mysterious other dimension that he had preached to so many people about, he finally found his peace.