UNHOLY LIGHT

Chapter Two

By: Karen B.

Oh the Devil is rising with the moon
He cries and my blood runs cold
Oh no never was the darkness so black,
No light and nowhere to go ~ Black Sabbath

Dedicated to: Ginnylove9990…here is another kooky chapter. Thank you for the inspiration to keep going.

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I'd seen a lot. Had my share of nightmares, but in all that I've seen and all that I'd dreamt I'd seen, I could never come up with a place as evil and as creepy and as confusing as Purgatory.

The trees creaked and the phantoms moaned. Evil warty lizards and carnival sideshow freaks, or whatever the hell, lurked in every shadow. Continued to slink and slither and follow Sam and I along. Growling and yelping and growling. Aggressive and angry and tugging at the leash that appeared to be to tight around their necks as they still had not attacked us – only attacking one another on occasion.

We stepped into another swampy clearing and the moon came into view. Well sort of a moon. The sphere was abnormally big, very, very big, and eerily orangish-blood-red. It seemed to hover right at the waterline of the gooey black swamp looking like a glowing pumpkin against the black of the sky. Shadows swept across its barren surface, carving out the image of a face, a face that watched and sneered at us, daring and cocky and all knowing.

I normally didn't do creepy, but it was creepy and it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Must have raised Sam's hairs too as a shiver shot down his spine and he tottered sideways.

"You okay?" I asked, pulling my brother closer.

Sam nodded.

"How's that ankle?"

"I'll let you know when we pass 'go' for the thousandth time," Sam muttered unhappily.

"Quit your bitching, bitch. I've passed 'go' a thousand times more than you and never once collected a dime," I snipped angrily. "The landscape all looks the same. Left, right, nothing changes." I eyeballed Sam. "You got any of your bright ideas?"

"We could find a get out of jail free card."

"Friggin' hysterical," I grumbled even angrier. "This is no joke, little brother. You shouldn't have come here. You should have stayed where you were," I said softly.

"We're not separating again. Wherever you go…I go," Sam hissed.

"That's just stupid. So if I jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge you would do the same?"

"Maybe." Sam shrugged.

"Ass."

"Hole."

I sighed. It was stupid, but deep down I was glad not to be alone anymore. And at least I knew where Sam was. I couldn't protect him if we were separated by the cosmos.

"The moon always look like that?" Sam asked.

"No. That's a first I've even seen a moon."

"So everything here isn't the same then."

"Feels the same. I look left , I look right, I look up, I look down...it's all the same. Even the trees are shaped the same."

"Sort of like highway hypnosis," Sam muttered. "Or velocitation."

"Violin what?"

"You know how you feel when you've been driving forever. Out of it? Like that time we drove through the state of Nebraska and nothing every changed."

"Sort of hypnotized?" I asked.

"Right. And when you got off the freeway and slowed down, you felt like you were crawling like a snail when actually you were going twenty miles over the speed limit and I warned you to slow down but you didn't and you got a two hundred dollar ticket?"

"Thanks for the memories," I said dryly. "So what you're saying is we could be in a trance-like state?" I shook my head in disbelief. "What? Like the friggin' Matrix, man?" I waved a hand around. "So this is all an illusion and our bodies are stored in some pod full of alien snot?" I shivered, flashing back to fairies and probing tables; which just served to piss me off even more. "And I suppose I am imagining you're Tiny Tim impersonation and the fact we could get chomped in the ass by Packman at any second?" I was getting really upset, damn near hyperventilating.

"We can't know anything for sure, Dean."

"You hippy," I grouched, sucking in a breath. "Now you sound like Mango Salsa for brains."

"Cas? He's here too?" Sam missed a step.

I gripped him tighter to keep him from collapsing. "I don't know," I said. "He was here, then poof …gone."

"Did you try to call him?"

"Called him, screamed for him, threatened him, and prayed for him in every language including Yiddish. I got nothing. He's probably off playing Jane Goodall teaching the monkeys how to play twister and how to collect honey in Ziploc bags," I huffed, kicking at a rock in frustration.

"Dean, just calm down," Sam whispered tiredly.

I couldn't help but be frustrated and okay scared. This place was bad, and with Sam's limited mobility we were sitting ducks.

I hated ducks.

"Don't suppose you packed any provisions?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I wasn't hungry, but could sure do some nervous eating right about now. "Possibly a hamburger, some fries, a chocolate shake… an apple pie for desert." I eyed my brother up and down. Between us we didn't have two sticks to rub together, two nickels either, and certainly nothing up our sleeves.

"No," Sam answered in a snotty tone. "But I have a broiled lobster and a New York strip in my back right pocket."

"Awesome. How about –"I frowned, just noticing now that the constant loud growling around us had become little more than a whisper.

Sam must have noted the same change as I felt his heart beat faster and could almost hear the rush of blood flowing through his ever muscle as he stiffened. "Crap, Dean, now what?"

"Don't ask me."

"I am asking you. You were here first," Sam argued like a teenager, staring into the shadows.

"You're the geek who probably went and dug up every scrap of Intel on the place before you found your dumbass way here."

There came a low raspy whimper nearby.

"The books just confused me and made me ask more questions." Sam blinked hard, brushing away the cowlick that always seemed to poke him in the eye. "Besides, told you, don't remember much."

The moon, or whatever, suddenly slipped into the watery black pit and disappeared out of sight, eaten alive. The way I was certain everything here met its demise eventually. The air turned cold and gray and damp and full of biblical nothingness.

"What's happening?" Sam's voice quaked

"You tell me, make-a-wish," I said sarcastically.

There was just enough light coming from who-knows-where, to create strange shadow puppets in the forest around us, just enough light to make Sam's face glow with fear.

"Dean." Sam's eyes latched onto mine.

"I don't know, Sammy, think we're in for some Halloween fun."

"I hate Halloween," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," I sympathized with the kid.

We stood in the darkness, both of us tight throated with nothing to do but wait for what might come next.

Then it happened. Something was headed our way…correction two something's; one coming from the front the other one from the rear. They looked like boiled rats only with padding. Muscular and huge, both charging one another fast and hard, like Spanish bulls, only they didn't have horns, just very large sharp teeth. We were about to be T-boned, eaten or trampled to death.

"Sammy! Get down!" I yelled in a panic, doing the only thing I could do, ramming Sam off to the side. Quickly, I searched for my gun up under my jacket. "Shit."

No gun. No way to defend ourselves. Not that a gun would have done the trick. I was certain that a gun meant nothing in this new world.

My overzealous brother was suddenly up, hobbling in front of me on one foot. "Damn it, Sam, I told you to get–"

Sam seized me by my forearms and shoved me down to my back, using his body as a shield lying right on top of me – protecting – just as the two rat-like creatures slammed into each other in mortal combat.

"Son of a bitch." I tried to shove Sam away. "Get off me, douche bag," I bit out, but was powerless as the two rodents on steroids fought over us, teeth and claws and spikey rat tails entangled and locked together for dominance.

"You don't get to say who lives and who dies, Dean!" Sam screamed loudly, pinning me further and so near my face our lips nearly met.

I peered past him to the fighting going on over us. We were caught between the two giant ten-foot tall freaks trying to kill one another. Or maybe one was trying to make the other his bitch. Either way… I didn't care. They were spitting and screaming and drooling, and snapping and clumsily dancing all around, chunks of pink fleshy shit plopping around us. I could only assume it was body parts and blood.

"We can't stay here," Sam panted.

Sam was right. We were either going to get stomped into the ground, or eaten alive by the winner. The fighting was intense and as aggressive as I'd ever seen anything fight before; both trying to be King-Of- The-World. Way they were going at it neither one was going to come out the winner. They were going to kill each other.

My eyes brightened and I stared up at Sam who still lay flat on top of me like the girl he was.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean, you're flipping me out." Sam frowned.

"Shut up," I said dryly. "I got an idea."

"Shocking."

"Dude," I scolded.

"Okay, fine, what then?"

"'We leave these mothers alone and let them solve their own problems?"

One hairless rat stabbed the other hairless rat in the gut with its tongue; which acted like sort of a sword, while the other hooked a claw through the other's chest. Both were left hanging onto one another, thrashing in their death throes about to topple over onto us. Seriously, we were talking pancake city.

"No way are you running on that ankle." I took in a deep breath. "On three. We roll."

Sam nodded.

This was going to be awkward. Keep cool, Dean, you have a job to do.

"One." I brought my legs up and scissored them around Sam. "Two." He slipped his arms beneath my back and we hugged each other close. "Three." I barrel rolled us like a log, over and over, keeping Sam wrapped up with me.

It would have been creepy-awkward, and for some reason the word 'Wincest' entered my mind. Was there such a thing? Couldn't think about that right now, I'd worry about our manliness later.

I couldn't see much, just could hear. Screeching and more thrashing on either side of us, but I didn't stop, just kept rolling us over the squishy ground in tandem, tightening my legs and arms around Sam.

Just when I thought I could roll no more, there came a huge meaty thud and the ground quaked. Sam's arms went limp and I stopped rolling, finding myself the one who got to be on top. I glanced to the side, squinting to see.

"How poetic. They…they killed each other," Sam said, and then gave a low whimper.

"Very poetic." I sneered down at Sam.

"What's so funny?"

"My turn to be on top," I laughed.

"Get the hell off of me, Dean." But before I could, Sam planted his feet to the ground and bucked me off.

"Mistake," Sam moaned and curled in onto his side. "Crap, crap, crap."

"Hey, hey , hey." I pulled Sam up and scooted him over to lean against a nearby tree.

"It's okay," Sam hissed. "Not bad. It's not bad."

"Dude." I reached trembling fingers down his leg to check his ankle. "You look like you're going to pass out cold."

"Don't," Sam murmured. "Don't touch it."

"Sam, I have to check you out. You're in a lot of pain."

"That's why I don't want you to touch it," he mumbled, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Whoa, Sammy!" I caught him just as he flopped ragdoll limp into my arms.

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Broken ankles are very painful injuries, but rarely life-threatening, unless you're in the land of misfit freaks and you need both your legs and feet to be fully functioning so you can run your ass off.

I'd done what I could for Sam. Splint his swollen, discolored and deformed ankle with sticks and some material I tore from my shirt. It was primitive at best.

I sat resting next to my passed-out-cold brother, trying to conceal us in the shadows, knowing I was doing a piss poor job of it. Glowing red eyes were always watching.

There wasn't much more I could do, so I sized-up the situation. Didn't' take long. Because there wasn't much to size-up.

We were trapped in the bullshit zone. I couldn't size-up the enemy, because I didn't know the enemy. I couldn't size-up the area, because everything continued to keep changing. Sizing-up our physical condition was easy. Sam was in a bad way, probably wasn't going to be able to put any more weight on that ankle, and I was exhausted and dumbfounded. Sizing-up our equipment was easy. We had none.

Dad's voice echoed in my head. 'In wilderness survival situations you have to use all your senses.'

Damn near impossible, this place was totally disorienting. Was like being on another planet.

Then I heard dad's voice again. 'Troubleshoot. There has to be something you can do. Figure it out. Do something. Anything. Never just sit on your ass and cry.'

So what could I do? I could remember who I was. I was a Winchester. I could tamp down my fear and panic and keep calm. Stay confident. I could improvise, watch and learn from the enemy, think fast, keep us moving. Maybe there was a hidden door. Maybe we were hypnotized and moving way too fast. I had to stay focused. I had to get Sammy out of here.

As if on cue Sam's slow breathing picked up and he struggled to come to.

"Easy." I carded my fingers through the kid's sticky hair.

An involuntary whimper left his lips and his eyes flicked open.

"Take your time, bro. You've been out for a bit."

Sam looked around and I gave him a minute to recover.

Something moved in the brush to my right and my head snapped up. I stared a long time at a toothy creature that sickeningly smiled back, but made no other move.

Sam whimpered again, scooting to sit up higher against the tree. "What is that?"

"Don't know. National Geographic would have a field day here," I said, my attention back on Sam, cupping a hand to his shoulder. "You with me now?" I asked.

Sam swallowed and took a moment to gather his breath "All the…all the way," he said.

"No chick flick moments, Sammy. Remember? Not even here." I got him up onto his feet.

"Right. I forgot, only manly guys doing manly things like fixing car and cruising woman and drinking booze."

"And?" I arched a brow at him.

"And…" Sammy smiled in that girlish way of his. "Kicking all these bitches in the ass."

"That's my boy."

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AN: I might add a few snips here and there throughout the Summer hiatus…a verse of sorts. Not sure the boys will ever find their way out of Purgatory, however. I'll leave that fun stuff for the show.