I was really bored tonight and looking for something to do, so I figured, why not give you guys an update a day earlier than I planned? And, while we're at it, let's throw some Sammy whompage in there for you guys, because who doesn't like a good Sammy beating? So enjoy this next chapter and I'll see about getting the next chapter up in a couple days :)


Sam had almost everything packed by the time they got back. John took charge of his own stuff, loathe to let even his sons touch it, and sent Dean to check them out of the room. As soon as Sam's stuff was packed, John sent him out to the car to keep an eye on Anya, just in case. He doubted anything would actually happen, but you could never be too sure. Sam slid into the passenger seat of the Impala, looking back at the other girl. She had put herself as far in the corner as possible and pulled her legs up on the seat so her knees blocked her face. She jumped when the car door opened and looked at Sam warily. He offered what he hoped was a trusting smile.

"Hi, I'm Sam." He said.

"Anya." She fell silent after giving him her name.

"Everything's going to be alright." He told her with his smile. "We're going to get you somewhere safe, where this thing can't get you." That seemed to help her a little. She gave him a small smile and the tension in her shoulders faded. It only lasted for a second though. She screamed loudly as something appeared in the driver's side of the car. Sam wrenched around, one arm already swinging to hit whatever it was, the other going for the gun. The thing moved before Sam could complete either action, easily fitting a hand around his throat and slamming him into the window. Anya continued to scream, frozen in spot by fear. Sam's breath wheezed as he tried to pull in enough air. The figure leaned forward, the hood of his robe brushing against Sam's cheek. He heard the figure take in a deep breath. The hood fell back as he moved away from Sam, his hand still firmly against Sam's throat. Sam's eyes widened in surprise.

It was just a man.

Although this man seemed stronger and quicker than an ordinary human. When he spoke though, it was with a man's voice.

"Yes! You are the one our master wants!" the man exclaimed. Sam struggled to hold onto consciousness as his vision began to black out. Whatever this man wanted with him, it probably wasn't good, and passing out was not an option right now. A commotion outside of the car distracted the man. Sam saw out of the corner of his eye that his brother had come back from the front desk when he saw what was happening in his car. He pulled out his gun just as the man laughed and disappeared. Sam fell forward, no longer forced upright. He didn't have the strength to catch himself and face-planted into the seat. His vision faded down to the seat as he beat back the blackness that threatened to cloud his vision. He heard the door screech open and felt someone's hands pulling him up.

"-am! Come on, say something!" he heard someone shouting at him. His mind seemed to hit the fast-forward button to catch up to everything he missed. Dean. It was Dean calling him. "Damn it Sam! Breath!"

Oh. That's right, he needed to do that. It had been awhile since he had taken in any air. His body heaved as he gasped in air. The world jerked back into view. He gasped in breaths while Dean held his body up to support him.

"What the hell happened Sam?" Dean demanded. If Sam didn't know Dean better, he would think Dean was mad at him. It was only the fear speaking for Dean though. Sam shook his head, the world finally stabilizing around him. His rubbed at his aching throat.

"Guy just appeared out of nowhere. Moved faster than he shoulda been able to." Sam croaked out. What he wouldn't give for some water. Right on cue, Dean produced a water bottle. Sam eagerly drank a quarter of it before he turned back to Dean. "I'm pretty sure it's a cult, but whatever kind of cult it is, they're juiced up with some kind of magic. He didn't open the car door, and I didn't even have time to get a swing at him."

"What did he say to you? I saw his mouth moving." Dean warned. He knew that if Sam thought it wasn't important, he would keep it to himself and usually anything unimportant to Sam was anything that had to do with him. Sam flinched and Dean knew he was right.

"He-he said that I was the one his master wanted." Dean stiffened and looked up, knowing his dad had heard the same thing. Now it was even more important that they get to Bobby's.

"Let's go boys. The sooner we leave this town behind, the better." John said, hurrying over to his truck. He was already pulling out of the parking lot before the door was shut all the way. The Impala pulled out a little slower, but still managed to break every speed limit on the way out of town.

Silence had fallen in the car. Anya had retreated behind her knees again, though both brothers could hear her deep breathing as she struggled to calm herself down. Sam clung to the water bottle as if it was life itself.

"Hey Dean?" he asked into the quiet.

"Yeah?"

"How come we always manage to find the cults? I hate cults."

"We don't find them, they find you." Dean told him, his voice joking, but his eyes serious. What he said was true. Every time they had dealt with cults, they had always found Sammy; always centered on him.

"Yeah, well I still hate them." Sam mumbled, before leaning against the window. He was asleep within minutes.

The got to Bobby's without any problems after that. Bobby came racing outside with a shot gun when he heard the car doors slam shut. Obviously their dad had forgotten to call ahead. Anya squeaked in the back when she saw the gun. It startled Sam out of his sleep.

"We here?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah. Shot gun welcome and everything." Dean opened his door and stepped out, Sam following close behind him. Sam opened Anya's door for her and smiled.

"Don't worry, he's just a little jumpy. He's harmless to you." Sam explained. Anya took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. Bobby was over, talking to John in hushed tones. The argument looked heated.

"I told you not to do this one by yourself!" Sam heard Bobby yell. "But you were too stubborn to listen to me and now you've got your son all mixed up with them!"

Sam flinched—his dad was not going to just stand there and take that. Surprisingly though, John lowered his head and didn't say anything for a second. When he gave his answer, he spoke too quietly for either boy to hear him. Bobby sighed and looked out past everybody.

"Well come on. Let's put some protections up so they can't get the jump on you two again." He said to Anya and Sam. He led the way back into the house. "Go ahead and dump your stuff in your usual room. Show Anya the guest room." Bobby said with a glare at the two boys. The nodded meekly at him before leading the way upstairs. The showed Anya her room, which she promptly went into and shut the door, before going next door to theirs.

Sam flipped on the light and Dean winced. The bruises on Sam's neck had taken a distinct hand print shape and were an ugly purple-black color. They had to hurt. Sam felt Dean looking and smiled at him.

"They probably look glorious. Feel like it too." He grumbled, rubbing his neck. "Nothing a couple pain killers can't handle, so stop worrying."

"Did you wanna get some more sleep? I'm sure dad wouldn't be opposed to it." Dean offered. Sam shook his head.

"You guys need my help with this research. Besides, I got enough in the car."

They had been researching without any results for an hour and a half before Anya came down and joined them. The problem wasn't that they couldn't find the information—they found too much. The description they were searching off of were too vague to get any detailed information. It could have been any number of different suspected cults. She took a steadying breath.

"I know you guys need my help. I-I'll see what I can do." She said.

"What else do you remember about the robes?" John asked. Then he looked down at Sam. "If you remember anything, feel free to join in."

Sam shook his head. "It was dark and I was a little distracted. All I remember was that the man was older, probably 40's. He had black hair and his eyes…" Sam narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to see something far away. "They were like a cat's. The pupils looked like slits." Sam shook his head again and his eyes lost their distant look. "But it must have been a trick of the light."

"Well," Anya started hesitantly. "Maybe not. When he turned away from me, I noticed a pattern on the robes in gold. It looked like some kind of wildcat. Like a panther maybe."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sam said suddenly, his eyes solely focusing on the computer screen.

"Sam?" Dean asked when Sam didn't say anything for a minute. It was too late though—Sam was already lost in the research. Instead, Dean walked around, watching as flashes of pictures and texts appeared and disappeared on the screen in seconds. "Man how do you even see what you're looking at?"

"I know what I'm looking for." Sam said, clearly distracted. "Here we go! I knew I had seen this before."

Sam flipped the computer screen around so that everyone could see the picture he was looking at. "The cult we're dealing with worships the demon Teristal, who is a seriously bad demon. He's an African demon, who was known for being able to pick out kids who had 'special' abilities, or as we know them, physics. His form was usually a-"

"Panther." Anya said. She sounded like she had just been proven not insane. Then again, this was probably a lot for her.

"Exactly. Many African tribes would keep a panther in their village, and when a child turned five, they would be put by the panther, and then the village would watch and see if they panther made any sign of favor towards the kid. If they did, the kid usually went into training as a shaman. But that's not exactly what the demon does."

"And what exactly does this demon do?" Bobby asked.

"Well, it's true about him being able to pick out special kids. Unfortunately, if a psychic kid was ever put next to this demon, the demon would kill him and suck the kid's power to make himself stronger. He's been able to wipe out almost entire generations of kids before."