There was no light to guide her back home, the moon instead hiding behind grey clouds, slivers of light fading as soon as they appeared. The dirt road crunched under her boots as she pushed herself, her breathing growing ragged as her heart pounded. She had no idea how long she'd been running, only that if she stopped, she would surely die.
You can't run forever!
The sinister whisper on the wind sent a chill down her spine. She knew it was right—even now, she could feel her body begin to burn, her overused muscles screaming out in protest as she continued to flee. Images of bloody bodies blinded her, dark fears surfacing as she tripped and fell.
"You can't run forever."
The ghost floated before her; the ethereal white skin glowing. Black eyes void of any emotion pierced her soul. She was certainly going to die here, on this dirt road, without anyone to hear her screams.
"Duck!"
She slammed herself to the ground as the voice commanded, the gunshot firing right above her, ears deafened. A strong arm jerked her up, a man pulling her beside him. His tallness struck her first—he towered above her, with soulful puppy dog eyes meeting hers as he ushered toward a classic black impala.
"Who are you?"
Another gunshot cut off her question and she pressed her back against the car, huddling into a protective ball.
"Sammy!" Another man, shorter than her rescuer, shouted, firing his shotgun once more at the ghost that had been terrorizing her.
"Dean, your left!"
With practiced moves, the two men move about, firing off rounds and dodging with a grace that she has never seen before. They're like soldiers, she thinks, though older than what she expected army soldiers to be. Streaks of grey colored their hair and the short one wore a leather jacket that looked like it had seen better days.
The ghost rampages, tree branches hurtling through the air, a low wail breaking up the gunshots. A bullet hits her and she screams out, moaning as her shoulder vanishes, fading away into the dark. Her eyes flash bloody red, her scream growing louder.
"Sammy, the girl!"
"On it!"
The tall man—Sammy?—kneels before her and offers her his hand. She takes it and together, they begin to run away from the car, toward the surrounding forest.
"Who are you guys?" She shouts, sprinting.
"Doesn't matter," The other man replies, "We're gonna get you through this!"
Another gunshot goes off, followed by eerie silence. He yanks the frightened young woman behind a tree, motioning for her to be silent, a finger to his lips. Footsteps echo, boots crunching on the ground.
"Dean?"
The shorter man appears, a tired smile pulling on his lips, "Bought us a few minutes. Got that incantation?"
Sammy pulls out a piece of folder paper, his eyes carefully scanning the words, "Should work."
"Gonna have to since we've got no bones to salt and burn."
She doesn't understand what's going on. She's lightheaded. She can't really breathe, but she's alive. She slumps against the tree, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying to steady her pounding heartbeat.
The shorter man shoots her a tired grin, "You'll be okay."
"How do you know?" She croaks.
He huffs out a dry laugh, "This isn't our first rodeo."
She has no idea what he means by that.
Sammy recites the foreign words like he's always spoken them and the ghost reappears, screaming in a horrible voice, like nails on a chalkboard.
Winchesters!
"Hey, Sam," Dean chuckles as he points the gun at the spirit, "We're famous."
And suddenly, like dust on the wind, the ghost is gone. Nothing more than a fading vision, gone when the morning light hits it.
"Are you okay?"
She glances up, feeling blood dripping down her nose, wiping it away. The younger man offers her a tissue from his well-worn jean pockets.
"Y-yeah."
"C'mon." Dean helps her up shakily, his strong arm hoisting her up.
"Thank you," She exhales softly, wondering if it's really over.
"Are you gonna be okay?" Sammy questions her, concern pooling into his puppy dog eyes.
She nods, "Yeah. Uh, I can get home."
Sunlight begins to streak the sky, the dark night finally giving way to dawn. The nightmare is over. She can finally make it. She can breathe.
"Piece of advice?" Dean smirks at her, "Forget this ever happened."
They move toward their classic car, two men that somehow saved her from a threat that she had never imagined before.
"Wait!"
They stop, turning to look back to her.
"Who are you guys?"
Sammy chuckles, "The Winchesters."
Getting into the car, she watches as they drive away, classic rock blaring from their radio. She watches until the lights fade away, wondering just what happened.
She huffs out, laughing, as she turns her back and heads back to town.