Obviously, this one is connected to the previous chapter.
Sam grunted, back colliding with the enormous stone mausoleum. The demon followed up the psychic push by slamming its host's hand over his mouth.
"Make a sound and I'll gut you," the blonde hissed.
The bald man beside her glared at Sam with black eyes before pressing himself close to the wall and peeking around the corner. The inhumanly strong grip on Sam's jaw prevented him from moving more than his eyes.
"Well, well. Look who's come to the rescue," the man muttered maliciously. He exchanged a wicked smirk with the blonde before turning his focus on Sam. As Sam watched in horror, the man shed his skin, peeling it off in gooey strips. When he was done, a perfect reflection of Sam stood in front of the real one.
"I know. Possessed shifter. That's a new one, isn't it?" the blonde gloated quietly. "Now. Here's how this is going to go. You're going to walk out there and let Dean help you back to your motel room. He'll cuddle you up in pillows and blankets and promise that the two of you will figure everything out in the morning. But you're going to tell him that you don't want to. That you need to leave. And you know what? Your brother will take one look at your big puppy eyes and he'll do whatever you say and you'll never come back to this town again."
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Not you you," the blonde conceded. "But still you." She tilted her pointed chin toward the shifter, who was shaping Sam's features into a mask of pathetic misery and guileless pain.
"Showtime," the doppelganger announced, sliding green over the blackness of his eyes before limping out into the graveyard.
"I'm a sucker for a good show. Come on, let's watch. What do you say, Sam?" The blonde took her hand away but flicked her wrist and Sam felt the invisible power immobilizing him.
She allowed him to turn his head enough to peek around the corner of the tomb but he couldn't move any other part of his body, or even make sound in his vocal chords. In front of him, Dean was helping the imposter into a jacket.
"You know, you were always so resentful, Sam," the demon whispered close to his face. "Truth is, you should have appreciated Dean when you had the chance. Now, you're never going to see him again."
Sam strained against the power holding him, desperate to warn Dean somehow. Perhaps by running after him, maybe even just grunting to draw attention. But the demon was too strong and Dean was unwittingly escorting a monster toward his car.
"Remember that whole scene I described earlier? About Dean leaving town?" the blonde taunted, breath tickling the shell of Sam's ear as she stood on tiptoes to reach him. "Yeah. I lied."
Sam's eyes widened.
"See, the truth is that my partner's not going to let Dean live through the night. They're going to pull up to the motel and Dean's going to help what he thinks is his brother into the room and then he's going to watch as you turn on him. You're going to eat him, Sam. You'll chow down on him and he's not going to lift a finger because he could never hurt his Sammy. And that will be the messy end of Dean Winchester." The demon's voice lifted in glee, ending in a high pitched giggle.
Helpless, Sam stared after Dean's retreating form, horror and panic taking over his mind.