Season: Nothing specific
Episode: None
Players: See challenge community for full list of names
Spoilers: None
Word: Blast, PRIDE, line, fly, treasure, tight, crack, jiggle, stick, strand, cross, fish, safe, clock, Sour, fall, core, wreck, bloodcurdling and/or cackle, hang, test, pick, gobble, steam, craft, gift, spread
Wasteland
There was a blast of icy air into the Impala when Dean opened the door. Pride be damned, he zipped his jacket and added gloves for warmth. It might not be in line with his "tough guy" persona, but he'd rather not fly in the face of reason when it is twenty below. He treasures all his "bits" from his toes and fingers to…other things. Sam seemed to agree, as he was bundled up as well, expression tight with just a small smile, or was it a grimace, that cracked his expression.
The whirl of wind and the jiggle of keys was all that could be heard in the frigid night. Or wait, there was also the sound of the trees, the twigs and sticks scrapping and snapping off in the gusts. Strands of Sam's hair blew into his face, but Dean didn't make mention of it, he was too busy searching for their quarry while attempting to stay warm.
"Do you think it went that way?" Dean pointed at the barren field to a small copse of trees.
Not quite a forest, the woods seemed ominous; trees crossed off openings and daggling debris. A small pond, no fish, was housed inside the wood as well. If it had been a sunny day with warmth to surround the Winchesters' they would likely have felt safe and sound in this location, but with the freezing air and gusts of wind that whispered of snow they felt open, exposed.
An eerie "bong, bong, bong" sounded from some distant town whose clock was striking the hour. No need to question what hour, devils always seemed to arrive after midnight.
Sam's expression soured, finally answering Dean's question.
"I'm sure it did. Nothing like a woods filled with dead trees and falling limbs to hide in. The creature, at it's core, wants to live. It will take us where it feels safe to wreak havoc."
"It just wants to wreck our night with this damn frozen wasteland, Sam!" Dean exclaimed with some rancor.
Suddenly a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the creatures safe haven, followed by what could only be described as a cackle.
"Uh, Sam, I thought you said this thing was all monster or animal? Because that doesn't sound quite right there."
"Umm, hang on a second Dean. Looks like it depends on the form the creature decides to take?
"So it's like a shape-shifter and could be anything? Great, what kinda stupid multiple-choice test is this thing!" Dean grumbled as they trudged across the field, which had looked empty and frozen but ended up a muddy mess that they were picking their way through. The ooze seemed to gobble up boots with a sucking sound that inhibited the brothers from moving quickly.
Finally reaching their destination they noticed steam rising from a crudely crafted house. Which was too kind of a word for the mass of sticks and mud that blended well into the tree line, save for the steam that was only noticeable due to the gift that was the frosty night air. Entering the enclosure left Sam and Dean with a terrible vision. Spread before them was the remains of whatever victim the creature had captured and torn apart, likely a woman from the previous screams they'd heard. The creature was a ghastly sight, part man and part animal mixture and seemed both angry and in pain. A few blessed bullets made short work of whatever "it" was. Then the pouring of gasoline and the striking of a match made sure that nothing was left to be found to figure out exactly who or what had done the damage the town had experienced for the past year.