(Sorry it's so short, been a long day, but needed to get something out, still unsure on whether to continue this, we shall see.)
Sam could see the top of the mirror from the other side of the room. He weaved through the boxes and crates and came face to face with himself.
"Dean?" He called, scanning the area.
Nothing.
"Dean?!" He called louder.
Again, nothing.
Something scuffed the side of his boot, unconsciously thinking it was a rock, he thought nothing of it. He grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and dialled Dean. He could hear the familiar riff of Deep Purple -Smoke on the Water, Deans ringtone. But it was too loud, too close, aAnd there it was Dean's phone, by his foot.
Sam ran a hand through his hair and pushed it away from his face. Then the mirror began to move.
A bloodied hand burst through the glass and grabbed the bottom of the frame, and then the other, feeling around for something to grab hold of, then came the head.
Dean? Sam had no time to process, he instinctively ran forward and gripped Deans fore arms, pulling him out.
Before Sam could say anything, or even give Dean his exasperated look, Dean scrambled up and launched himself at Sam, hands grappling for anything, something solid, he snatched Sam's gun and began firing, aimlessly, at the mirror until it fractured to pieces. He then fell to his knees, looking down at his hands as the shards of glass rained down on him, cutting into his skin. He caught his reflection again, black eyes stared back at him coldly, and he collapsed into Sam's arms.
