-1
'Samuel.'
Sam's head cocked at the sound of his name, his full name which was bad enough. He was standing waist deep in cold water, but the chill from it didn't seem to effect him, he knew he should've been shivering, but he wasn't.
'Samuel Winchester.'
That voice again, Sam stared hard around him, but he could only see water. Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.
'SAMUEL WINCHESTER!'
And suddenly, Sam could see him, straight ahead of him. And he knew, he knew it was coming! Oh, god, it was after him. Inspired, no, driven by instinct rather than intellect, he ran, waded, splashed, pushed his way towards the man ahead of him. A cold sweat coated his skin, he could feel it this time, dripping down his body. The man was no more than a arm's length away, he wanted to tell him to run, but his tongue just lolled stupidly in his mouth, they were all going to die.
Hands clamped on the man's shoulders, and Sam turned him around aggressively, demanding answers. But the sight that he saw horrified him. It was Chris, no, not Chris, but someone remarkably like Chris, his brother, Matt. He was bruised and bloody, he could see the stupidly high amount of injuries around him, and the carvings that revealed bone in his chest.
'He is not what you think he is,' the apparition said thickly as blood spilt out of his mouth.
'Who isn't!?' Sam demanded, only half-realising he could now speak. 'Chris?'
'A whirlwind of blood and horror will be unleashed to any who try to get close to him. He is not what you think. There is evil within him.'
Sam was bewildered, this was like something you'd see on some shitty horror film.
'Blood and thunder.'
Sam realised that the person in front of him was now a corpse, flesh hanging off of bones and sinew hanging off of putrid muscle.
'Blood and thunder,' Matt said again, and Sam wondered how somebody without a jaw could talk.
'Blood and thunder.'
The markings on the chest were still there.
'Blood and thunder!'
They glowed and maggots seemed to fester within them.
'HE WILL KILL YOU ALL.'
Sam awake with a yelp, covered in a cold sweat that left a chill within him, as he fell off of the side of the bed, landing ungracefully on Chris who was now buried between Sam's limbs and damp sheets. Waking with a start, Chris gasped slightly, then in embarrasment as he realised there was a half naked Winchester pressing against him.
'Shit, shit, shit, shit,' Sam mumbled softly, eyes screwed shut.
'Sam? What is it, man? You alright?' Chris asked quietly, his face inches away from Sam's. He could smell his breath, which even at this hour smelt slightly of mint and, what was it, strawberries?
Sam's eyes snapped open with a start, he could still see a corpse in front of him, before he realised that it was Chris. Just Chris.
'HE WILL KILL YOU ALL.' The voice echoed in his head, threatening to split it open.
'S-Sorry, Chris, I had a… a nightmare, didn't mean to… uh, fall on you,' Sam said through his night chills, realising he was still on top of the boy. He didn't show any signs of moving though until Chris eventually - after he was sure the memory of Sam against him was burnt into his memory - he gently pushed Sam away, who looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
'I'm alright,' Sam said quietly. 'I'm alright.' He looked at Chris with a meaningful look, but Chris could only see confusion.
He couldn't pin down anything else, because he slowly stood up and clambered back into his bed, staring at the opposite wall.
Chris could still smell him, still feel him against himself.
'Blood and thunder,' Sam said softly.
Chris didn't hear him.
Blood and thunder.
HE WILL KILL YOU ALL.
The marks on Chris' wrist began to bleed.
Chris didn't notice.
BLOOD AND THUNDER.
