A/N: Next chapter, here we go!
Anne trudged tiredly toward the barn from the house, covering a hand to her face as she yawned.
Her parents had left to go and pick up some groceries in town, and at seventeen, she was more than capable of taking care of things on her own.
Having heard a commotion from the house coming all the way from the barn, she knew she would have to deal with it – at least until her parents showed up from their grocery run.
Anne quickly opened one of the barn's large bay doors, hearing the cows snorting and grunting, banging against the bars keeping them in their pens.
Pushing a curl of dark hair behind her ear, she stepped inside as soon as the door opened enough for her to duck under.
The lights were dimmed, casting an eerie glow in the expansive barn.
Two cows were roaming freely in the feed alley, where they drove their feed trucks through. "How the hell did you get out?" The cows were restless, pacing forward a few steps, before turning around and repeating the process. The cattle in the pens were all over the place, seemingly in a panicked state, crashing into each other, mooing shrilly.
Tentatively, she grabbed hold onto one of the bars and strained her neck, moving back and forth, trying to see what was causing such a commotion. Feeling wetness on her hand, she glanced down.
There was blood on the bar, small droplets falling down and joining the growing puddle by her feet.
Swallowing back bile, she hastily pulled her hand back, wiping the blood on her coveralls. "What the hell is going on?"
Moving along the pen quickly, she came to a halt a dozen feet later. One of their cows lay dead in the pen. It was hard to tell with the cows moving back and forth, obstructing much of her view, but it looked like its throat was ripped out.
She threw a hand to her mouth to keep in the gasp.
There, in the pen, was a massive wolf-like beast, face deep in the intestinal tract of another one of their cows, eviscerating it. Blood coated the floor, hoof prints everywhere as the other cattle trampled through the gory mess.
Anne slowly backed up, hand still to her mouth, and made to get to the open barn door. In her panic, she knocked a bucket over, the sound, she hoped, would be drowned out by the cows.
The animal's head shot up, blood dripping from its maw, its scarlet eyes staring right at her. "Oh God, oh God!"
She ran.
Even with the cattle's incessant cries, the wolf's howl chilled her, goosebumps peppering her arms even under her long sleeve t-shirt.
Then she heard the faint sound of paws behind her.
She wouldn't make it outside the barn before the wolf caught her. Anne felt tears sting her cheeks as she made a split second decision and pulled herself over into one of the pens, the cattle around her giving her a moments cover from the dangerous animal.
Frantically, she looked around and spotted one of their unused offices. It was small, but it had a door. More secure than being out in the open. She did her best to avoid being trampled, being knocked into several times by frightened cows, screaming when one stepped onto her left foot, feeling bone snap.
She reached the other side of the pen and pulled herself up, hearing the cows increase their movements, the shrill cries louder.
The wolf had followed her back into the enclosure.
She flung herself away from the pen, limping the twenty feet over to the far wall where the office was, scrambling at the doorknob.
It was locked.
Sobbing, she reached for her keys in her pocket with shaking hands, head glancing over her shoulder as she watched the creature leap smoothly over the bars, its lips pulled back, snarling.
"Please, please." She jammed a key into the lock, swiveling her head back and forth between the doorknob and imminent death on four legs.
The door unlocked.
Anne threw herself into the small office, slamming the door closed behind her and locking it, crying into her hand as she tried to calm her racing heart, her back heaving with the effort.
Even from under the door, she could hear the click of claws on the floor outside the office. Snuffling at the base of the door made her chest hitch, and slowly crawl away from the door.
The bang against the door made her whimper. She settled herself against a filing cabinet, letting her left leg stretch out, the foot throbbing. She didn't have her phone with her – she had left it on the kitchen table before she had left the house. They had a phone in the barn – but it was in the opposite direction from where she was.
The door banged again and it was only as she glanced at the door that she remembered.
The office had a small glass window.
She could actually see the tips of the wolf's ears from where she was on the floor through the glass as it prowled back and forth. She prayed that the animal wasn't smart enough to break the glass.
"Go away... go away... please." She whispered, rocking herself from side to side.
Her breath caught in her throat as the wolf leaned up against the window, giant paws pressed against the tempered glass. The dark head turned sideways with one glowing red eye peering in to stare right at her.
Her whole body trembled. With no place else to go, she was going to die here. Torn apart and left for her parents to find, much like some of the cattle already.
The wolf lunged against the glass, its weight causing minor cracks in the glass with each hit. She screamed when the window finally broke, shards of glass raining down in front of her as the wolf's head pushed through the hole it had created, teeth bared and jaws opening wide.
Anne closed her eyes, sobbing.
A shot rang out, surprisingly loud between the cattle and the snarling coming from the ginormous wolf. Ann covered her ears, catching the sound of the creature's surprised yelp as it disappeared from the broken window.
She tucked herself into a ball, silent tears falling and prayed it would be over soon.
Dean heaved in a lungful of air, his arm still raised with the shotgun still smoking. He'd used rock salt to shoot Sam, knowing it wouldn't do more than cause some minimal pain.
Scarlet eyes narrowed at him, lips pulled back in a snarl as he hissed, clawed paws digging into the cement floor.
When Dean raised the shotgun up again, the wolf jumped into the pen before Dean could think about pulling the trigger.
Dean's eyes frantically searched for a glimpse of dark fur, but with too many agitated and terrified cattle running back and forth, it was impossible to make out. Narrowing his eyes, Dean got an idea. Time to make Sam come to him.
Dean grabbed a piece of broken glass still hanging from the window, tucking the shotgun under his left arm. He caught the eyes of the terrified teenager huddled against the wall, and nodded at her, trying to reassure her. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the barn for a potential attack, even as he raised the shard of glass to his palm and made a neat slice, blood welling. Looking up to the fan above his head, he stood on a large crate located underneath it and raised his hand up, feeling the fan's pressure against his arm, letting his scent blow throughout the enclosure.
It didn't take long before the wolf gracefully jumped the pen, nose twitching in the air before eyes caught sight of Dean.
Dean jumped down, his left hand squeezing tightly to allow a few more drops of blood to stain the floor. "Okay Sammy, we're going to play one of your favorite games from when we were kids."
The wolf hissed, bloody teeth bared. The dark fur on its back raised in agitation.
Dean smirked, feet backpedaling slowly towards the open door. "Tag. Your it."
The wolf lunged.
Dean was already sprinting a half second before his brother moved towards the open door, aiming for the still idling Impala parked just outside. He dove into the driver side and slammed the door shut, feeling the car rock a few seconds later as Sam hit it with such force, it jolted Dean sideways along the benchseat. "Damnit Sam! Leave my baby alone!"
Throwing the Impala into drive, Dean gunned it - rocks, dirt and gravel spraying everywhere as the car sought traction. He kept an eye on his rear-view mirror, his brother's lupine form only a couple dozen feet behind him, giving chase. "That's right, keep following me."
It was only three miles back to Bobby's, but Dean knew how difficult it could be to get Sam to follow him back. The only thing working in his favor, honestly, was that he had blood to spare.
When Sam seemed to fall back, Dean would slow down, roll down the window and try to milk more blood out of his wound, trying to entice his brother to keep following him.
It worked the first two miles.
The last mile was a struggle. While the Amarok part of his brother was obviously in control, it seemed to be taping into human Sam's intelligence – it knew there was a trap coming. It stayed more toward the forest on the opposite side of the road, its pace slowed down to a crawl.
The shrill ring of his phone startled him. Cursing, while keeping an eye on the area he last saw Sam disappear to, he answered the call and hit speaker. "Yeah?"
"Dean! Where are you?" Bobby sounded worried and a little pissed off.
"Uh, about half a mile down from your place."
"You found Sam?"
"Yeah – he's kind of stalking me right now. Do you have the cure ready?"
Bobby's exasperated breath echoed on the phone. "As ready as can be. You get him back here and we can fix this."
Red eyes appeared in the passenger window and Dean cursed at his inattentiveness, the Impala lurching forward and Dean winced at the sound of nails scraping along the car's back door. "Sonofabitch."
"Dean!"
Grabbing the phone, Dean yelled, "I'm on my way Bobby! Get that cure ready!" He hit end and tossed the useless phone on the passenger seat, heart pounding and fingers tightening around the steering wheel, ignoring the pain in his hand and the blood that made the steering wheel slick.
Pulling up towards the house, Dean checked to make sure his brother was still trailing him. Coming to a stop, he carefully pulled himself out of the car, not bothering to take the time to turn the Impala off.
"Dean!" Bobby opened the front door halfway open. "Where is he?"
Dean caught a glimpse of glowing eyes at the edge of the junkyard. "He's at the far end of the yard."
Bobby carefully trudged down the stairs, with what looked like a rifle, in hand. "Here." He said as he stopped beside Dean, holding out a syringe filled with amber liquid.
Holding it, Dean frowned. "What? Couldn't get it in the tranquilizer gun?" He asked.
Bobby shook his head. "Balls, boy – don't you think I would have done that if I could? This needs to get into a vein, or directly into the heart for it to work." Bobby glanced around the yard, before continuing. "We can knock him out with this," Bobby raised the gun, "then dose him."
Dean nodded, absently tucked the syringe in his inner coat pocket. His eyes scanned the various junk cars, searching for his wayward brother. "Well, let's hope he sits still long enough for you to actually tag him."
Both men, as quietly as they could, began slowly searching for the youngest Winchester, carefully approaching areas that were not well lit. Dean was able to turn the car off while Bobby stood watch, leaving them able to hear better in the relatively calm evening.
After a few minutes of searching, Dean started to feel panic bubble to the surface. What if Sam left the yard again?
A yell from Bobby had Dean sprinting in his direction, heart in his throat. So much for Sam leaving the yard. "Bobby!"
He turned a corner and saw Bobby leaning against one of the rusted cars. "Bobby?"
Bobby waved a hand at him, catching his breath. "Damn it. Kid's fast. Missed him with the dart."
There was a scrape of claws on metal and Dean angled the shotgun in the direction of the noise. There was a glimpse of red eyes in the darkness before he disappeared again. "Crap. It's too easy for him to ambush us here."
"We need to get him out into the open – get a clear shot." Bobby added, eyes scanning the wrecked cars and debris littered across the yard.
There was a hiss right next to Bobby's ear and he reared back, a large clawed paw missing his face by an inch. It did, however, catch the gun in his hands, tossing it twenty feet against the rusted body of a broken Ford Mustang. "Damn it!"
Before the older hunter could move to grab the gun, or Dean could raise his, a dark paw stepped on the weapon, fangs bared in a hiss. "God damned smart."
Dean could only nod, shotgun raised to fire. "Too smart for his own good." Frantically, Dean went through his options. They needed to get Sam away from the yard, get him pinned down in an area that wouldn't give him room to maneuver.
A plan formulated in his head just as he fired the shotgun in front of Sam to keep him from moving closer to Bobby. "I've got an idea!"
Bobby flinched from the booming shot, glancing quickly from Dean back to the threat that was the youngest Winchester. "I'm afraid to ask. What?"
Dean flexed his left hand, grimacing as he felt the wound pull at the movement, blood oozing from the opened wound. "I'll get him to follow me and we'll trap him into an area he can't get out of. Double back once he's on my tail and get the gun. Tranq him and we'll call it a day."
Bobby backed up as the wolf took a step towards him, scarlet eyes narrowed in anger. "That's your plan? Where are we supposed to trap him?"
Dean smiled sheepishly at Bobby's back. "In the house."
"Wait, what?"
Pushing the older hunter with one arm in the opposite direction, he raised his other one, yelling at his brother, trying to get his attention. "Come on, Sam! This way! Or are you too slow to catch your older more handsome brother?"
Red eyes swiveled back and forth between the two, unsure which to attack first. Eventually, he focused on the one whose blood was singing in the air, tickling the sensitive hairs in his nose with the intoxicating smell.
Growling, the wolf advanced, his foot pushing off from the gun under his paw, kicking it under the vehicle that he had been standing in front of. He jumped on top of rusted cars as he stalked the younger man, claws scraping against metal as he pursued his prey.
He paused, as he watched the man open the door to the house and waited there.
Eyes narrowed, the wolf climbed the stairs two at a time. It's prey wasn't getting away again.
Dean slowly backed up, allowing his brother to enter the kitchen area.
His brother's tail swished back and forth a few times, seemingly content to take his time. Up close, Sam looked even bigger than when he was in the panic room, sturdy limbs surprisingly quick for carrying almost 300 lbs of pure muscle. The lack of fur around his muzzle only accentuated the blood there.
And then there were the eyes.
Scarlet eyes that sought blood and destruction, chaos and death. A predator in every sense of the word, no trace of humanity in them.
Those weren't Sam's eyes – and Dean would be damned not to see those hazel puppy dog eyes again.
Dean stopped once he hit the middle of the study, syringe held tightly in his right hand. "Okay Sammy, I promised you I'd fix this and I'm keeping that promise."
A dark nose lifted into the air, inhaling a few times before exhaling, black lips pulling back to reveal slightly curved, razor sharp teeth. It hissed, low and deep.
Dean took a few breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. "No one is dying here tonight Sam."
The dark head snarled, limbs slightly bent, ready to pounce.
He steadied himself, mouth dry and eyes tight with strain. "Come on! Let's do this!"
Sam leaped.
There was a sharp bang, a yell and a howl in the span of a few seconds.
Dean found himself on the floor, staring up at the long snout of his brother into blood-red eyes, teeth just grazing his chin. His heart threatened to burst it was beating so fast. It was hard to breathe with Sam's weight pining him to the floor.
For a few moments, he just stared into his brother's eyes, feeling hot sticky breath tickling his neck with each exhale.
"Dean!"
He couldn't answer Bobby's terrified cry if he tried.
Dean could feel more of Sam's weight falling on him and he groaned, shifting his right arm out and pushed on Sam's chest.
Slowly, he toppled over, the room shaking slightly from the motion.
Dean coughed, feeling oxygen enter starved lungs and pulled his legs up, curling around his bruised ribcage. Bobby's hand ghosted over his shoulder a few seconds later. "Dean! Are you okay?"
Dean coughed a few more times before raising his head out from under his arms. "I'm peachy."
"You're an idjit is what you are! He could have killed you!"
Dean fought a grin, even through pain. "But he didn't. I count it as a win." Levering himself up with Bobby's help, Dean was able to check on his brother.
The fur covered chest rose with slight hitches, a tranquilizer dart embedded in his hind quarter. Right at the breastbone, above the heart, was the syringe, the plunger depressed.
Cautiously, Dean crawled the few feet over, placing a calloused hand on the rising chest. When Sam didn't react, he leaned over carefully, looking at his face.
The eyes were still open, glassy and unresponsive. Air whooshed in and out through his open mouth. Dean's fingers clamped on to some of the dark fur on his brother's side, leaning his forehead against the broad chest. "Come on, Sammy. You gotta come back."
Now all they could do was wait.
A/N: One more chapter to go & this story will be wrapped up. (Also a little homage to one of my favorite horror movies Ginger Snaps is in this chapter. If you've never seen it, I recommend you check it out.)