Chapter Seven
I met the man who would kill me on a dark November night.
He saved my life.
My savior. My Killer.
It was somehow doomed from the beginning.
It was all for the ending. My ending.
The door swings open and Sam appears in the doorway. I cannot explain how relieved I feel. I was expecting to see a horribly appalling monster in the entrance, blood dripping from fangs, and now I see only Sam. But my relief is short-lived, for I can hear the alarm in his voice as he yells, "Come on Mercedes!"
He runs over to the bed as I quickly scurry off, my foot catching on the twisted comforter. I begin to fall but he catches me and pulls me to my feet. With my wrist gripped firmly in his left hand, a pointed knife in his other, we rush out of the room and into the unlit parking lot.
Dean is standing by the open driver's door of his black car and is waving for us to hurry. As gravel crunches beneath my feet my breaths come in short huffs. I can feel my heart beating in my chest like a loud war drum; deep, steady, and fast. As we make it to the car, Dean taking me from his brother and opening the back door for me, a low growl suddenly tears through the air.
My feet stop stiffly with terror as I watch a shadow to my right abruptly come alive, jumping at me with snapping jaws. I hear myself scream, feel my back fall heavily against the open car door behind me and my head knock painfully against its top. A male's shout is heard next but I'm falling to the ground, slumping against the door as I feel cold stones beneath my fingers.
There are loud scraping sounds and a shower of small rocks hit my body. My eyes open to reveal three sets of feet, one in a pair of running shoes, the other in black boots, and the last inhuman. Fur covers this third pair, running up its ankles and yellow claws sprouting from its toes. I feel another scream building up at the base of my throat but it remains trapped there as the feet scuttle against the gravel.
There is a clatter to my right as a gleaming knife hits the ground and Sam's voice rings clearly in my head. "Get the dagger!" His voice is cut off by a grunt as I hear a loud thud and the car rocks beside me. The knife is still laying freely to my side, only a few feet away, and I suddenly obtain the sense to reach for it. Darting across the gravel, small rocks digging into my hands and knees, I come close enough to grab it in my right hand but as I look up I am suddenly cast in shadow.
It's almost as if I have returned to that night in the alleyway, for I know I am looking up at the same creature that towered before me then. But now there is no longer a human face staring down at me. In its place are a hairy, snarling snout, two pointed ears, and a pair of jet black eyes glowering with hunger. The creature's body is immensely huge, larger than when I first laid eyes on it, and now its back is hunched in a way that tells me it is about to attack. Its humanly long arms are held away from its body, each hand spouting claws that gleam in the moonlight as it growls loudly.
But for once my voice surprises me and I am able to speak. Through the sheer terror I feel, the two words slip from my lips and the monster's ears perk up. "Jeremiah Rolt…" The name enrages the creature, its head tilting up as a piercing snarl reaches my ears and numbs my limbs. I know this is my opportunity. I know I have to get away, but my body won't listen to my thoughts. Not only has my voice fled me now, but the ability to move is no longer in reach either.
Unable to scream, unable to even lift my arm and defend myself, I close my eyes and wait for the werewolf's claws and teeth to dig into my flesh. But the pressure I feel on my arm now is not painful. It is releasing my grip from the dagger and as I feel the weapon slip from my fingers I force myself to look and see Dean before me. He's rushing at the werewolf, standing between me and the horrible creature as he thrusts his arm out and meets the monster straight on.
What I hear next is something similar to a wolf's mournful howl and a lion's mighty roar, vibrating through the air as the monster takes a step back, the dagger held in Dean's hand piercing through its fur and no doubt through its black heart. As it falls backward the knife slides from its body, Dean's grip unwilling to let go of the weapon, and it lies motionlessly on the grey gravel.
As soon as the monster hits the ground it is as if its invisible hold on my body is released and I will myself to get to my feet. Standing on shaking legs I stare at Dean as he slowly turns around, Sam appearing to my left as the younger brother gets up from where he was thrust into the car by the creature now dead before us. I can't help but let out an unbelievable laugh, grinning as I realize we are all safe. That this nightmare has ended. Sam smiles too, his lips almost unidentifiable in the darkness of the night. But Dean is not smiling.
The older Winchester is staring at me through hooded eyes and I suddenly sense that something is wrong. Sam must as well, for he is already beside his brother as Dean's legs give out and he collapses towards the ground. Catching him and slowing his fall, Sam is calling his brother's name. "Dean! Man, what's wrong? Dean, what's happening?"
I'm the first to notice. There is a rip in Dean's shirt, a simple tear across his left shoulder that has me gasping aloud. Sam's head whips upward as he hears me and then follows my gaze to his brother's shoulder. "Oh god…" he whispers, and is suddenly shaking his brother. "No, man, come on. Not this. Not now. Come on Dean. Talk to me. This can't be it. Dean!"
I kneel beside the older Winchester, his body lying across the gravel, his eyes open but blank. "Sam!" I have to yell to get the younger Winchester's head to even turn to me, but now I have his concentration. "I need you to listen to me." He stares at me, bewildered with water flowing to his eyes, but I can tell he's paying attention. "You have to promise me that you won't let me live." I say, and now his expression turns to confusion.
"Mercedes, what are you tal-" I don't let him finish his sentence for the tears are beginning to appear and I know I don't have much more time.
"Just promise me…" I barely whisper and I'm surprised that he can hear me; hear the pleading in my voice. He nods his head once, though I don't know if he really means it or is simply agreeing because he doesn't know what else to do. Whatever is running through his mind, I put him out of my own and turn my attention to Dean.
He's still lying on the ground, his face ashen. I can see the tear in his shirt, blood glistening from the bite mark like a red jewel. I place my hand on his face, his cold skin tingling my fingers, and let out a deep breath. "You have people to save," I whisper as I concentrate on his eyes, empty. "I just have one."
And now I can feel the poison. It's twisting and turning in his veins, infecting his body like a ravenous disease. I can feel its evil, its destruction, and I openly embrace it. I suck it into my own body, call to it, pull it into me. I feel it seep into my own veins, flow like my blood; change me from the inside out.
And I am still focusing on Dean's eyes, watching as the sadness - that deep sorrow – returns to them, and I feel my own remorse released. His eyes slowly shut as his chest rises, and I can feel my heartbeat beginning to fade. A smile flickers to my lips as the last trace of the poison escapes his body, and my hand slips from his face.
I can hear Sam's voice but it sounds distant, as if my world is underwater. Everything becomes fuzzy, images becoming indistinct and unrecognizable; all but Dean's eyelids, because I am still waiting for them to open. I am still waiting to notice the colour of his irises again because I want to remember forever. I want the sorrow to appear again, the drop of pain that will forever remain with him and tell so much in one glance. I want to see him.
But as his eyes flicker open mine slide shut and that fleeting moment is the last thing we share.
I met the man who would kill me on a dark November night.
He saved my life.
My savior. My Killer.
It was somehow doomed from the beginning.
It was all for the ending. My ending.
I guess we're even now.
The End
