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FINALLY, don't you hate it when you keep finding flaws in your own work, or something doesn't fit? God this took me hour. Ok, by the way I DON'T own Dean it was a joke. No need to sue me, everything's fine. Thank you all for the reviews, I didn't expect to get so many of the precious things. Thanks for everyone who did; they make it onto my 'Awesome' list. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a totally obsessive friend who did a back flip when she read the first chapter of my story…

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- Face the Shadow-

Chapter 2

So It Begins

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Sam and Walker stepped under the dark shadowy trees hopelessly and in despair, it was pitch black and night time. They could see their breaths puff out before their faces in clouds of silver white; Sam gave a gasp as his body cried out in protest at the cold again and the wind ran through the trees gently.

"Nothing…AGAIN" Walker muttered agitatedly as he turned away into the dark of the forest. Sam gave a long anguished sigh and walked with him

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"He won't drink it" The familiar blonde woman said darkly as she collapsed into an arm chair, gripping it with her talon like nails. She shook her head in defeat at her twentieth attempt to force blood down the stubborn newly turned's throat. She recalled how he had spat the blood in her face and leered at her, shouting insults at her at the top of his voice. But she could see a flicker of longing being held in his eyes, saw how he hesitated when she managed to tip a mouthful into his throat. She raised a hand to her face and hung her head tiredly "He's not defiant, he's stubborn" She added maliciously and coldly, thinking about Dean's face and feeling a surge of hate in her bloodstream

A ringleader stepped out from the darkness, his grey eyes settling on her accusingly and menacingly. He opened his mouth, making his sharp long fangs clearly visible as he spoke, a sort of territorial gesture "Try it again Anna" He whispered coldly "He has to drink sometime" His fingerless gloves clenched in anger from under his black long coat

"I am telling you Hayl, he just won't drink it. I can see the thirst burning in his eyes, I can see the vampire lust for blood inside him…but he won't succumb to it, he won't drink" She shook her head "He hasn't even weakened yet, and it's been a whole week, Hayl"

The two shared a long stare at each other, thinking deeply as they did. Anna stared into his moonlight eyes and cowered at a flare of wrath rising up inside them. He gritted his teeth together and closed his eyes angrily at how things did not go how he wished them to

"For the last week, Anna" He muttered coldly "Two hunters have been roaming at the edges of the woods, obviously looking for our pack" he told her, turning around and facing the moon bathed landscape out the window "One of them is the other that slipped from us as our backs were turned. I can see the resemblance in the newly turned's face" He whispered breathlessly "The brother is a hunter, and so is the newly turned. That is why he will not drink, because it stands against everything he has ever fought and believed him. He will slowly drive himself insane, but he will not drink it by his own accord" He finished as his eyes surveyed the edge of the woods outside

"By his own accord?" She asked him quietly

He turned to her, bearing a crazy smile across his pale face. His grey eyes glittering cruelly

"Get the others, and bring the pitcher" He said briefly, giving no more instruction as he turned back to the window with a smirk. His long black boots sliding silently across the wooden ground as he did

She stood up and gave him a nod, then left the room abruptly to go and summon the others, and when she returned she was told something that made her grin and snicker.

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Dean lay perfectly still, trying to keep his heaving and frantic breaths under his control. He stared up at the roof determinedly, twisted his wrists that were bound down on the table by leather straps along with his legs. He was still topless, and if he stretched his eyes to their physical limits he could just see two orange puncture marks on the base of his neck. The two orange puncture marks that had acted as a ceremonial gateway for the curse, and opening for the poison to seep into his body. He raised his tongue and rubbed them over his teeth, frowning desperately as he felt the jagged pair of fangs protruding from his mouth; he shuddered slightly and blinked his watery eyes. The most overwhelming worry he had though, was a new feeling that had come over him in the last few days, something he couldn't shove away or subdue. It was like a gash, panging like a sore or a cut painfully, his throat and mouth were parched, no matter how much water he drank…well he was only given one flask of water from the blonde haired woman, she just wanted to see his thirst undying as he drank it, see the horror in his face as it did nothing for his unsatisfied longing

He should have recognized it; it was a far different thirst, and was for something he had only once or twice ever tasted. It wasn't a longing, it was an obsession…all he could think about, and it was more of a hunger, and as he rarely slept his dreams ran away with ideas of drinking it

A thirst for blood that needed insanely to be satisfied

He groaned as his body cried out for blood again, he fought valiantly to fight of the thoughts. Each minute seemed like a day, every hour an eternity. He blinked once more, his eyes shining with tears at the monster he was steadily and gradually becoming, he knew it couldn't hold it back forever, but he didn't want the vampires to see their goals achieved so easily. He wasn't going to turn without a fight

A door creaked open, he crooked his head weakly around to see five figures step into the doorway, their jagged outlines making them look more menacing and powerful the he could have ever imagined. He saw the twisted smiles curling across their pale and ashen faces, the insane and monstrous glint in their eyes. He eyed them cautiously and saw how the blonde was carrying a pitcher

No…not this again

But as he quickly realised, this was very different. For starters one male cracked a fist across his head and in his daze another lifted his head upwards so it was upright, the remaining two males pinned his shoulders down with their lead weight strength. Then one, who had punched him, brutally pried his mouth open with his sick fingers. Dean gave a choke as the blonde approached him, smiling madly. She quickly tilted the pitcher and let the blood trickle rapidly into his open mouth, Dean tried to push his head forwards and close his mouth but couldn't, he struggled against all of their power helplessly as his mouth began to recognize the taste of blood. Then to finish of the procedure, one closed his mouth and gripped his lips down so he couldn't open it again, and held his nose as they forced him to swallow

His bodily instincts and functions took place before he could stop them, it impulsed him and made him swallow, the blood slid welcomingly down his readily awaiting dry throat. The blonde woman before him chuckled, her fangs pointing menacingly as she did, and then the effects began

He shuddered wildly at the unbelievable sense of pleasure he received, closing his eyes and cursing them in a whisper. The female blonde then raised the pitcher to his mouth once more, he stared at it and he couldn't help himself. Filled with shame he bent his head and began to drink the liquid his body had craved so much, and as he did the blood hit his stomach and the converting was finally over, the last and ending sequence over. As he drunk it, a flicker of evil momentarily settled in his eyes, something never seen before in those defiant diamonds of spirit and life. Something concentrated and dark…something cruel

From the darkness in the doorway the ringleader, Hayl, grinned evilly as he observed the turning… At last

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One week later -

Sam sat at the table; face forcefully buried into his cold shaking hands. He took a long breath and obliged himself to breathe, then exhaled as he tried to keep his body still and calm. Walker was sitting across from him at the end of the mahogany table, his eyes glittering as he watched the young man. He had let Sam stay here since the stranger told him he had nowhere else to go until he found his brother

They had been out at least nine times in the last week and found nothing due to the facts that they didn't have the faintest clues as to where they should have been looking and what they would do when they did find Dean. Every night they came back empty handed a portion of Sam's hope faded away into the shades of grey in the night. They had patrolled the woods with the torches, looking for any dead animals that vampires may have fed off. They found nothing, and in the shadows of the old trees Sam looked up at the silver moon, a white orb tossed amongst black cloudy seas. Dread was beginning to flow through his veins and a continuous rate, his only thoughts of Dean and what he could be going through, what could be happening to him

What he may have become in the time Sam hadn't seen him

Sam gripped a small coffee cup in front of him, and let the seductive aroma of caffeine rush through his sinuses with a sigh. For a few seconds the anxiety actually parted with his body, like wave, an out lash of water that was eventually sucked back inside him. He lifted the cup to his lips and sipped it with closed eyes, the hot beverage aided in the dampening of his parched throat. They had just been out again searching for his brother, and once again they had failed

He felt a tight hand rest on his shoulder "I'm going to bed, make sure you get some sleep too" Walker's familiar voice ordered him sternly "Stay alert too though, you know?"

And Sam nodded, not wanting to sleep at all. His sleep was restless and uncomfortable and in the hours he did sleep, they had been plagued by vivid dreams he could vaguely remember, like blurs and dashes of colour, speckles of light and voices. He occasionally brushed his memories with his finger tips, stretching out to the mentally as he fought to grasp them, but he always slipped and was back where he started. He swallowed another gulp of coffee and placed the emptied cup back on the table with a very quiet clink in the heavy silence

And watched drearily as a small amount of steam still rose up from inside with teary eyes.

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All of the sudden he was thrust forward into one of his dream/premonitions. He couldn't feel the wind but it was picking up forgotten dust particles and ash, spinning it in miniature vortexes along the floor. His line of sight was rushing down a dark wooden hall, on the walls were metal tools, encrusted with dried scarlet blood, he swiveled down a hall, looking into a new room in which he could see at last. Candles were on long metal bars near the wall, not touched by the ravaging winds amazingly, dancing and curling in an orange series of movements, casting dim light on the center of the room.

There was a circle, a ring of dark figures with golden outlines. The wind was battering their identical black coats, and tossing the three females hair wildly. They were all staring at something in the dark center

A male with shining grey eyes was facing Sam's direction, but rather staring at a figure in front of him with a determined and evil smirk. The figure before him had its head bowed, but Sam recognized the lean and sturdy figure almost instantly, eyes expanding in recognition and fear. His brother raised his head as Sam's point of view revolved in a semi circle before Dean's face

And Sam awoke as he stared terror stricken in Dean's face, smiling harshly with dark eyes and a set of pure white fangs

"DEAN!" Sam roared in utter distress as he shot up from the bed almost identically to the way he had done two weeks before. The same sweat, the same way the blanket was entwined with his body, and the same petrified look glazing his eyes. The same way his heart pounded, the same way his blood felt like liquid metal, the same sickening sense of realization as it was only a dream

Was it real?

Walker peered around the doorway at stared concerned at Sam "You okay?"

"Fine" he muttered. He remembered how many times that rehearsal had been done between him and Dean, the gesture of sympathy and protection returned by a lie. He gulped and hanged his head

"You don't look okay…" He murmured "Sure you don't want to tell me anything?"

Dean surveyed the innocent and interested face of Walker with intense inspection, and then he sighed lowly and began to speak

"I'm a physic…I have…dreams, premonitions, and images of things that haven't happened…" He trailed off awkwardly, seeing the curious look in Walker's eyes

"So you had a dream?"

"Yes" He said shortly, deliberately not delving into too much detail of the subject right away. He gazed at the dark figure in the doorway and frown slightly at the thought of his dream again,

Or his premonition

"What…was it about" Said Walker, trying not to be intrusive. His eyes settled on the sweaty face of Sam who was picking his words very carefully

"I was somewhere…dark, a sort of warehouse…except there were knives and blades on the walls. In the window I could see the woods, and…when I got in there, in one room there was a ring, a group of vampires" he finished, carefully deciding not to share the treasured final details of his dream with Walker

To Sam's utter surprise and shock Walker let a long grin slide across his face slyly "Typical…"

"What?"

"What you described dear boy is the deserted slaughter house" He said with a triumphant beam "Makes sense those scavengers would live in a place where things are killed"

Sam observed the look on Walker's face, but still felt a small amount of dread seep in through the hope. What if every aspect and detail of his dream were true, what if his brother was a vampire. He gripped the soft blanket and tried to speak but choked on his words momentarily. What would he do? He knew he couldn't ever bring himself to kill his brother, it would be impossible

He shook off the thoughts quickly and shamefully, what was he doing thinking like this?

There was still a chance his dream was wrong, that Dean was alive and well. Walker watched him expectantly

"Get the guns ready" Sam muttered as he rose from the quilts "We're going tonight"

Walker nodded obediently and stormed off the down the hall. He didn't particularly accept the fact he was going into a cult of vampires, but the idea of shooting at them with his shot gun was a rather pleasant one. He jogged down the stairs quickly

Sam stared out of the window next to him, at the cloudy sky with not a star to be seen. A tear was finally admitted from his eye and rolled down his cheek, chin, neck and finally his chest

Had he received his fangs yet?

Had he drank the blood of an innocent?

Had he forgotten all that was and succumbed to the curse?

"Hold on Dean…I'm coming" Sam whispered promisingly to himself, and hoped to god that Dean would have faith in him, to come and save him from the vampires.

What he didn't know was -

He was already too late for that

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-αιвσυ

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Authors note - Reviews are aaaaaaaalways welcome! See the button just below this text, use it. Use it use it use it

Now

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