Dean's spiky brown hair danced every time a breeze ran by. His confident demeanor was equipped with his usual focused eyes, poignant lips and stern expression. He waited patiently, his back up against the moist old wall of a building. Dean had come to some dark part of town, a back alley that looked like it had never been used. There was a steel fence on either side of him and thick white fog pooling at his feet. He watched as it wrapped around the altar he had just used. His strong fingers clutched the colt firmly, and his grip began to become straining. He was ready for whatever was going to show up, no matter what it was.

An eerie silence suddenly rolled over the area and all he could hear was his own breathing. A warm, but icy looking breath shot out from his mouth. Not the normal kind, but the kind that comes out when a spirit was near. He firmed his shoulders and started watching in all directions. He paced back and forth, his strong presence filling the alleyway with a sense of danger. "Come out you sick son of a bitch!" he yelled. His eyes peered even more than usual as he scanned his vicinity more closely. Nothing was showing up yet.

After months of going along with Bobby's advice Dean had finally broke. He was tired of running form the death omen, and he wanted answers if he could get them. Back when Dean originally found out that he was going to die he found a ritual to purge himself of the negative, supernatural energy he had collected. The downside was that it would manifest into a being of immense power. He wasn't running anymore though, he wanted to see what this thing knew. Besides, he had the Colt. Whatever it was, it was going to take Samuel Colt up the rear. He grinned confidently.

"What are you waiting for?" Dean yelled. He hoped the thing would come for him before it went after anyone else, but he was sure that taunting it would help his chances at that. He continued to yell and taunt the creature that he knew was somewhere. His ritual was done perfectly, and the temperature was dropping rapidly already.

Suddenly he had an idea. Dean looked down into one of the rain puddles. The doppelganger looked back at him, cackling madly. "Step back." It spoke. Dean got up and readied the colt, pointing it down into the puddle. He watched as the doppelganger grabbed the edges of the water like it was a ledge and pulled himself out. The creature looked like him, but its whole body was pale and ghostly. It's whole body appeared to be burning.

Dean looked at it proudly. "Well aren't you just a basket of ugly." He said, pulling back the hammer. Dean stared down the barrel where the Doppelgangers forehead was. He brought up his second hand to stabilize it. There was a moment of exchanged looks and then finally it started to walk towards him.

"You think I'll give you any answers Dean?" the creature asked. "Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"

"Wouldn't want to lie to yourself would you." Dean remarked.

"Always with the jokes Dean," the specter cooed. "when are you going to accept that you're going to die no matter what you do?"

Dean felt his nostrils flare, but managed to keep his cool. "Yeah, and how is that supposed to play out?"

"Even if you manage to scrape out of this hunt Dean, the next one will be even greater. Consider this a test. If you can kill the apprentice then good for you, but the master will make sure to send you to hell. That's where I'll get a piece…" it grinned.

"Master, there are two of these things?" Dean yelled. "Give more answers!"

"You're going to have to choose Dean, between two things you love." The specter cried, it seemed to be enjoying this. "But you can't save everyone!"

Dean bared his teeth and brought his right arm out as he took a step forward. He felt the colt press against the creature's forehead. A smile escaped him, and he looked the creature in the eye. "Maybe you're right," he managed to say through his shaking, "Maybe I will die. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but maybe you're right. Who knows, maybe I won't be able to save everyone I love. There is one thing I do know though." Dean said.

"Oh? What would that be?" the Doppelganger asked.

"Ain't no one going to save you're ass." Dean said hissing. He pulled the trigger on the colt and the demon blew back into the far side of the alleyway. A dark hole ripped across his forehead, and a surge of electricity danced between his eyes and throughout his body as the gun took effect. It's body fell limp and stopped moving completely moments later. Dean drew back the gun and put it into his jacket. He sneered at the beast as it vanished into thin air. Rain started falling onto his hair and he felt like puking.

Was there any hope for him? What did the creature mean by what it said? Maybe it was lying? His body shook violently and he cursed at himself. He stooped down to look at the rain puddle and saw only his own reflection in the water. Sure he had killed the death omen, but it didn't change the fact he was going to die. Ironic, he thought. Then, Dean had a strange sense of loneliness wash over him. Even when no one else was around he at least always had the doppelganger there. Now he was completely and utterly alone.


What do you guys think of the story so far? I want to thank everyone for reading it! It means a lot. I hope you're ready, because things are about to get really interesting...

Always,

Waxwarrior