July 1995
Phelan, California, Dean POV
Looking back into the motel room, Dean sighs looking down to the floor. He is not sure how to get the supplies they need. He barely has any money left. If he is lucky, he can get enough food to last three days. He bites his lips considering his options. He could steal again but then the last time was a fair warning. It will neither do any good for dad will be pissed again. And then this time, he might be left behind indefinitely. He will have to do with what little money he has. If need be, he can skip a few meals. At least Sam will then have enough to eat.
Thinking about Sam, he looks up. His eyes turn to Sam who sits on the bed with books and other school stuff scattered around him. At least Sam has the energy to handle homework. He has no time for it. Besides, it is not important so will just have to act like he always has once back in the classroom.
"Dean, where are you going?"
"I'm going shopping, Sammy. We need food."
"But can't it wait for a day right? We still have some food left, don't we? And besides, you haven't finished your homework."
He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from sighing. He knows where Sam's response came from but it does not mean he likes it. Sam looks at him with a frown. He narrows his eyes refusing to give in to Sam's pressuring to finish his homework. And besides, he has more important things to do.
"We barely have enough food left. If I don't go now I won't have time for it later. And besides, school is unimportant."
"It's not. Simply because you and dad don't deem it important doesn't mean it isn't. School is very important, Dean."
"Maybe to you but as you said it's not to dad and me."
"Alright, alright. You do your grocery shopping. And while you're gone I'll finish my homework. Something you should also pay attention to for once in your life."
"You and your homework."
Dean shakes his head with a small smile and closes the door behind him. Slowly, he walks along the road thinking about his dilemma. How to get as much food as he can with the little money he has available? He has no clear way but realizes more as time passes that his only chance is finding a cheap grocery store somewhere in this town.
But where can he find such a store in this town? So far, he has only seen expensive stores. Well, expensive if he takes his budget into account. He sighs knowing now it will take even longer to finish his shopping. Luckily, Dad is not around. He wouldn't have been pleased if he took so long for grocery shopping. No matter if he were only following orders which he does now. He has to take care of Sammy while his dad is hunting.
After searching the town for thirty minutes, he locates a cram-packed parking lot. In the distance between the cars, he sees people with shopping cars moving around. Over the roof of the cars, he sees a sea of red roof tiles. Has he located a small shopping mall? Walking alongside the parking space, he looks for a better angle at the shopping mall he expects to find here.
After looking for a bit, he locates a pedestrian crossing in the parking lot. The sea of red roof tiles makes more sense to him now. It is a long roof covering the store. So, it does not belong to a small shopping mall. People are scattering around the parking lot just as he looks at the store's name. He smiles in delight as he straightens his back. He has finally found the kind of store he has been looking for.
Suddenly, a flickering light occurs in the corner of his eyes. He turns his head and frowns. He is certain he saw a couple of people walking in the flickering light. But right now, he sees no one. What was it this time? Ever since May, he has had these occurrences where he saw something in the flickering light. He knows it is not a possession or anything from a monster for he has been thoroughly tested. Thinking about it has his mind turning back to the events which happened in May.
May 1995
Pullman, Washington
Dean carefully slips along the brick wall trying to stay in the shadows. The air around him feels oppressive. It will be of no use if he is discovered. His entire scouting will be useless then. Dad would be so disappointed then. He needs to find out whatever he can about the monster they are hunting right now. This small alley is an ideal hunting ground based on the evidence they have gathered so far.
Looking at the alley, he sees a few windows covered with iron bars on the other side. Light comes out of some of the windows. He needs to be careful when slipping past them. Pipes flow along the walls. In the distance, a closed gate can be seen. He tilts his head. The gate looks at the very least like an iron one. He knows it could also be wooden considering the distance between him and the gate. But then the way it lightens makes it nearly impossible.
Silently moving around, he does his best to stay out of the lights. Sometimes a shadow's cast behind him by the lights. He pays no attention to it. He needs to find out why the monster likes these kinds of alleys so much. So far he has found nothing. Or at least, nothing concrete. As such, he slowly makes his way to the gate while keeping an eye on his environment. Maybe there he'll find something.
Reaching the gate, he opens it cringing at the screeching sound it makes. He looks around hoping no one has heard it. Thankfully, no movements are visible in the alley. He breathes a sigh of relief when he also hears no sounds coming from behind him. Only then does he carefully slip past the gate closing it behind him.
Slipping further into the small yard, he jumps against the closest wall upon hearing footsteps closing in. A dark-haired man covered in tattoos and dressed in what seems to be black leather steps into the small yard. The man looks around with scrutinizing eyes. A short while later, he walks back into the direction he came from.
Dean bites his lips and looks around. The man is the only one he has seen so far. He might be the best chance in discovering what is happening in this town. As silently as he can, Dean follows the man. Soon, he reaches an open gate and the man slips past it. Dean's hot on his heels but stays in the shadows. He is unwilling to lose sight of a potential target.
While following the man, he looks around. He is in another alley with fewer lights than the previous one. The brick walls of buildings surround him. There are a few posters on the walls. Most of them are worn except one. This one is for a festival in the neighborhood. He frowns. Why can he see this so clearly? It should be too dark for him to see much of anything. Let alone what is written on a poster.
Thinking about it for a moment, he shrugs. It is better to make the most of what he can see. As such, he turns his attention back to his target. The man meets up with two other people; a man and a woman. Both look similar to the first man in dress and tattoos. He can clearly see where something dark is on exposed skin. He frowns. What kind of people did he stumble into? Are these the ones his dad and he are hunting? He is unsure.
Paying close attention to the group, he manages to listen to their whispered conversation. They are waiting for someone to join them. But for what and who? He frowns again. How can he understand this? The whispering and distance should make it impossible for him to do so. But clearly, he can. This is just as with the darkness they are standing in. It makes no sense.
Just as he thinks this, another woman dressed in a party dress stumbles into the alley. A rough-looking man follows her with a twinkle in his eyes. The group moves into the shadows just as the man pushes the woman against the wall. Slowly, the group forms a half-circle around the couple. The man pulls the woman's dress a bit down and jumps back.
Instantly multiple names fill the air. He looks around for whoever called these names. The group has, in the meantime, jumped on the man using glowing swords. One of the men's thrown away into a wall. A soft crack resounds in the alley. A whooshing sound reaches his ears. One of the group slashes at the man. The man staggers brack and growls. His face changes. It becomes white, greasy, and slimy like a slug. But that is not all changes; his body does as well. It becomes similar to the face but also covered in pockmarks.
In that instant, the woman in the dress pulls something out of the dress. Another name fills the air. The woman suddenly has a glowing sword in her hand. She stabs the man in the back. The man staggers again only to turn into a black puddle with a slightly green tint. Dean presses a hand to his mound. His eyes are wide open. What did he see now? The man was clearly not human. It is rather obvious. But he can't tell what he was. He has never seen anything like him. The group, he wonders about. Are they also not human? And then what was the only name he could understand? He cannot remember it fully. All he can remember is Isra or something.
He turns back to the group. The man thrown into the wall lies on the ground. A smear stains the wall where he impacted. The woman in the dress hovers over him a glowing stick in her hand. He averts his eyes. The light stings badly in his eyes because of the darkness around them.
After a moment, he opens his eyes again. They widen at the sight before him. The stick is waved over the man's neck. Something on the neck starts to glow. Moments later, the man opens slightly glowing eyes. A minute later, the man stands smoothly up again. The glow in his eyes is gone. He narrows his eyes. How's this possible?
A scratching sound resounds in the alley. He turns in its direction. The other woman retrieves a sword from the ground. She wipes it off on a bracelet. The group whispers for a moment before they run out of the alley. Dean waits a moment before making his way to the puddle. He wants to know what it is. Maybe then everything will become clear to him.
Reaching the puddle, he crouches down and looks at it. A shiver goes through his body. Sweat drips over his spine. He looks around for something to touch it with. Something tells him never to touch it with his hand. A pipe lies next to him. He picks it up and sticks it into the puddle.
Lifting it, he sees how the liquid sticks to it. It forms a thin threat between it. He tilts his head looking at the threat. Something drips in the corner of his eyes. He looks at the dripping only to drop the pipe. It was dissolving in front of his eyes. Looking at the pipe in the puddle, his eyes widen ever wider. The pipe is completely dissolving. It confirms what he suspected; the man was not human.
A screeching sound comes from behind. He jumps up looking around. Light footsteps can be heard in the distance approaching. The footsteps sound loudly in his ears. Unwilling to be caught, he runs away out of the alley. Within moments, light burns in his eyes. He squeezes them shut for a moment before opening them again. He stands on a sidewalk and turns around. A long alley covered in darkness and shadows is in front of him. No sight of the place the battle took place. He tilts his head. How did he get here so quickly? He shakes his head running as fast as possible, without attracting attention, back to the motel they are staying at.
Moments after beginning to run, he stands before their motel door. He looks around and notices it is not as late as he expected. It should have taken him far longer to reach the motel. He frowns. How did he get here so quickly without noticing? It is just like the alley. He has no idea how he did it and does not like it at all. It is then he notices how his heart is beating in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he forces his heart to beat slower. He opens the door and silently slips inside.
"Dean, you're already back? I expected that you'd need more time to do a thorough scouting."
"I know, sir. I just needed less time and saw something strange while scouting out a suitable hunting ground. I felt you'd needed to know as soon as possible."
"What'd you see?"
"I'm not sure. I know I saw a group of people luring something which looked like a man into a trap. How they knew it was not human, I don't know. And I'm not sure they're also not human."
Dad looks at him with narrowed eyes. He straightens his back. Now's not the time to show fear. Dad taps the table with his fingers. A shiver runs over his spine. Dad slams his hand on the table opening his mouth. He takes a deep breath knowing what he has to do right now.
"When the group attacked the 'man', his face changed alongside his body. It's difficult to explain what I really saw. The face was white, greasy, and slimy like that of a slug. The body was just like the face with the only difference being; it was covered in pockmarks. I never saw anything like it."
"I never saw anything like it either. I'll check it out. But did you follow those hunters?"
"No, sir. I didn't."
"You fucking idiot. Didn't you ever listen to anything I taught you? You should have followed them."
Dad waves his fist around. A finger is pressed right in front of his eyes. He looks at the floor and clenches his fists. How to calm father down? How to explain his actions? He is unwilling to make his problem even worse. He sighs, taking a deep breath.
"Sir, I wanted to check out the puddle the man who was killed, left behind."
"What was it like? And what did the group attack with? Dammit son, do I have to remind you of everything now?"
"The puddle was unlike any blood I've ever seen before. It was black with a green tint and acidic, I believe. Something told me not to touch it so I used a pipe. This pipe disintegrated after coming into contact with the blood.
"As for the group, they attacked with glowing swords. I was too far away to see anymore. One of the group was wounded due to being thrown into a wall. That one was healed by the use of a glowing stick. At that time, his eyes glowed slightly."
"Go get us some food. I'll need to make a few calls."
He does not bother to answer when his father throws some money his way. He hurries out of the room as if chased by a whip. Dad is already upset. There is no need to press his luck. All he can do now is make amends. As such, he needs to buy food as soon as possible.
Thinking this, he frowns. Where was Sam during all this? He did not see him. But what he can remember is hearing the shower running. Was Sam showering? It might be one explanation. He shakes his head. He has other things to focus on right now.
Twenty minutes later, Dean walks back into the motel room with bags of food. He looks around finding his father glaring at him from across the room. Dad's eyes are throwing daggers at him. He looks to the side unwilling to meet dad's eyes any longer. He does not understand it but refuses to cause another fight. He looks around searching for Sammy.
Sammy sits on the bed reading a book apparently unaware of the tension between father and him. He smiles at him but receives no response. Sammy is too engrossed in his reading. Walking towards the table, he sets the bags on the table. Swallowing for a moment, he takes a deep breath awaiting his father's response.
"Dean Michael Winchester! What were you fucking thinking? How dare you lie to me!"
"What are you talking about? I did not lie, sir. I told you what I saw."
"Have you been taking any drugs while scouting?"
"No, sir. I haven't."
"Then save your fucking words for someone else. Someone who appreciated them. Just so you know, I called a few people. No one has ever seen something like you did. Someone actually checked the lore to see if we missed something. Guess what!"
He bites his lips unwilling to incite more fury while looking at the floor. Why doesn't dad believe him? He was telling the truth. He didn't lie. He wouldn't ever do that. He knows better. He clenches his fists.
"No brave words. Nothing?"
He forcefully keeps his mouth shut and allows silence to fall over the room. During the following silence, a leaf could be heard dropping. He shuffles his feet a bit while feeling sweat drop from his brow. His arms tremble. A door opening breaks the silence.
"What is going on? Dean? Dad?"
"You want to know what is going on, Sam? I'll leave that to your brother who has been negligent during his mission and came back earlier with a fake story. That! That I while he should have admitted his failure outright. A white, greasy, and slimy man with pockmarks on his skin. Don't make me laugh. No such thing exists."
"Dean!"
"I did not lie. I truly saw that."
"What did you do! Take drugs!"
"No, I didn't."
"Tell your fucking lies to someone else. Get out of my sight. You're not getting any food. Not until you finish the fucking job I gave you. Come back with something useful."
"Yes, sir."
He hurries out of the room with tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Why does no one believe him when he tells the truth?
July 1995
Phelan, California
He shakes his head and looks more carefully at the flickering light. In the distance the familiar shape of a person sneaking around is visible. Jumping behind a car, he follows the shape with his eyes as it enters an alley. Glancing around the parking lot, no one seems to be paying attention to the shape. Biting his lip for a moment, he makes up his mind.
He calmly walks across the parking lot towards the alley. His hands sweat as he does so. He worries he is again imagining things. Nevertheless, he has to check. If there really is something then he has to know. It is the only way he can protect Sammy. Dad will have his hide if he doesn't.
Slipping into the alley, he looks around for a place to hide. He wants his spying to stay secret. The alley is relatively well-lit even though the walls are covered in shadows. Just like some parts of the alley. But all in all, he can see deep in the alley. Multiple garbage containers stand in it along the walls. Some are open and some are closed. A horrid stench reaches his nose the closer he gets to one of the open containers.
Further along the alley, he sees a man and a woman stalking around. They are dressed just like those he saw in May. He frowns. What are they looking for? The woman turns a but. She seems to be holding some type of tube in her hand. What is it?
Suddenly the man turns around. Dean jumps behind the closest garbage container he can find and holds his breath. He was not seen, was he? Anxious minutes tick by. Or are it seconds? Regardless, he can hear the hustle of people arriving and leaving by car in the distance. The couple is turning their heads every few seconds. What are they looking for?
A rusting along the walls draws his attention. He looks around before focusing on the couple. They are looking up at the wall. So they must have also heard it. Following their gaze, his eyes widen. Multiple giant scorpions are crawling down the wall. He swallows back a gasp. Shivers run along his spine and over his body. No matter what will happen, he cannot be discovered. No one can know he's spying on the couple. Those beasts might also attack him then. He shivers thinking about it.
Names are shouted in the distance. Looking around, he locates the couple with glowing swords in their hands. He tilts his head. Did they expect this? He suspects so. Why else would they have their swords out so quickly? As for those swords, he narrows his eyes looking at them. They are similar to the swords he saw in May. It confirms to him he is dealing with the same group. But who are they?
He glances upwards and sees the scorpion closest to him has descended enough. Enough for him to see more of it. It is longer than he initially thought and has a slimy scaled black body. A long black tongue hangs from its thick flat snout. Around the snout, serrated teeth can be seen.
He shivers looking at the teeth and bites his lips. Those teeth look deadly. More dangerously than those of other beasts he has fought. Tearing his eyes away from the teeth, a barbed tail draws his attention. It whips from side to side like the tail of a happy dog. It moves again with its legs. Its claws snap with every move. An insectile cluster of eyes appears dead center on its long domed skull. It is as if it is inspecting him from where it hangs on the walls.
Sweat drips in his eyes. He wipes it away with the back of his hand. This beast is a scary thing to see. He has to narrow his eyes to be able to see it. The black body makes it difficult to see in this alley. He glances around. Darkness surrounds the alley more so than before. Whatever this thing is can clearly hide here well. He frowns. How can he see it? With the increased darkness, it should be too dark for him to make out all the details.
Suddenly, something drips next to him on the street. He looks up the wall with wide eyes. Two of those beasts are moving towards him. Green saliva drips as they move. He crawls back hoping to escape from it. As he crawls, his hand touches a tube. He picks it up and feels a rope biting in his hand. Keeping an eye on the beast, he looks at the rope. It is twisted around the tube keeping the paper securely on it.
What should he do? Use it? He glances back at the beasts. The tube sure is enticing. He looks it carefully over and notices an opening on one side. There is none on the other. He narrows his eyes recognizing it as the same thing he saw being used in May. Is this opening where the blade comes from? He frowns. The beasts slowly move closer to him. He pulls on the rope and the paper falls to the ground. On the paper, a name is written. The beasts are nearly upon him.
"Cassiel!"
A blade springs from the tube. It glows extremely bright. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. The beasts scream with a high pitch. A buzz sounds loudly in his ears. One runs towards him. He scurries upward taking a stand. He holds the blade diagonally in front of him waiting for it to close in on him. Once it is close enough, he swipes with the blade and slashes the claws off. Moments later, he stabs it in the eyes. He pulls the blade out and turns around stabbing the other.
His hands begin to hurt. A burning sensation reaches his awareness. He looks down and has to close his eyes. The blade shines even more brightly. The handle lights up in his hands. The heat reaches unbearable levels. He lets go of the blade dropping it on the ground. Lifting his hands, the imprint of the blade is visible in the redness of his palms. Looking up, he sees a black puddle on the ground. He clenches his eyes shut and runs out of the alley.
Within moments, light stings into his eyes. The stench of gasoline reaches his ears. He looks around noticing he stands in the parking lot again. What did just happen? Thinking about it has him shaking his head and clenching his fists. He hisses sharply looking back at his fists. Opening them, he stares with white eyes. Where before only redness was visible in his palms, now a burn stands out on his palm. This cannot be from the events of the alleys. It must be from something he cannot remember. The events from the alley have to be a hallucination. He is certain of it. Dad's words echo in his ears reminding him not to imagine anything anymore.
Taking large steps, he makes his way towards the grocery store. Reaching the shopping cart, he stops and grabs one before entering the store. He needs to forget his hallucination as quickly as possible. Shopping will hopefully do this. He bows his head and is met by black and white tiles. He takes a deep breath. He will get this done. He will forget about his hallucination.
He lifts his head. In front of him at the end of the corridor, a display is visible stacked with what he deems to be meat. Along the corridor, two racks filled with sacks stands. He slowly makes his way alongside the corridor until he locates boxes. Looking them over, he finds those he needs. Luckily for him, there is a selection of multiple brands to choose from. Checking them, he tries to find the cheapest brand.
"Hello? Can we help you? Are you alright? You look a bit spooked."
A hand touches his shoulder. He jumps and looks around. A couple dressed in dark clothing stands behind him. They have the same stature as the couple from his hallucination. He turns his head away from them. He pinches his arm and hisses in pain. So, this couple is not a hallucination. No matter. What he saw cannot have been real. Turning around, he faces the couple who look at him with worried eyes.
"I'm fine. Just shopping a bit for my family. I don't need your help."
"If you say so. Are you a local?"
"No, I'm not."
"Pity. I'd hoped you would be able to give us some pointers to a few good tourist places in the area."
He frowns. They're tourists? He hasn't heard a worse lie in a very long time. They're not even remotely dressed as such. What's their plan? He looks them over carefully hoping to gain any insight. The couple only smiles reassuringly at him. What have they've got to gain worth it? There is nothing on them giving them any insight. All he's left with are more questions. His only option now is asking his questions outright.
"You don't look like tourists. Who are you really?"
"Just a couple passing through for work. We hoped to get some sightseeing done alongside it."
"Well, take a pathway into the mountains then. I am sure there'll be enough to get some sightseeing done."
"Are you really not local? You sure gave us a good suggestion."
He shrugs refusing to say anything more. They also did not give clear answers to his questions. He sincerely doubts they're a couple passing through for work. They've got utilitarian motives. Which he doesn't know just yet but intends to find out if he can. He keeps his eyes on the couple who share a look between them. He cannot identify it but before he can really consider it, the man speaks up.
"You sure look like you need help with your grocery shopping. Allow us to help you in exchange for your excellent suggestion."
"I don't need your help. I'm managing just fine."
"We insist."
The man pulls out his wallet before he can so much as protest. A few bills are offered to him. He shakes his head but the man only raises an eyebrow. The bills are pushed closer to him. He looks around hoping for a rescue but receives none. He begins to wonder why no one has talked to them yet. His mouth falls open. Everyone's going about their business. No one pays them any mind. It's almost as if they're invisible.
Turning back to the couple, the woman gives him an easy smile. He bites his lips and reluctantly makes up his mind to accept the money. He knows they wouldn't accept anything less from him. Counting it, his eyes widen. They just gave him one hundred bucks. Just so. Why? Where did they get so much money that a few hundred bucks don't matter to them?
He looks up and feels something being pushed in his pocket. He jumps back glaring at the couple who only smile effectively at him. He puts his hand in his pocket feeling paper touch his hand. He pulls the paper out and looks it over. On the paper, a phone number is written. He frowns looking up. Why did they give him this number? And whose is it? The couple does not seem to take the hint for they still only smile at him. He can barely contain a growl.
"If you're ever in an emergency, call the number we just gave you. I promise you'll get help from them no matter what the situation is. You're a remarkable young man. Take care of yourself."
The man pats him on his shoulder before turning around. He hurriedly staches the bills and the paper into his pocket. No matter what the reason, with this money they'll have enough food until dad's back. He knows he'll have to hide any leftover money from dad. He can already hear the ranting if this money is ever discovered. So, he'll make sure it's securely hidden somewhere dad won't look.
With the money put safely away, for now, he quickly gets back to his shopping. He quickly collects the things he needs and hurries towards the cashier. While walking, he notices the eyes on his back. People are now looking at him. Why didn't they do so before? It all makes no sense. His head begins to pound loudly.
"Did you get everything, son? Your family must be proud you're taking care of grocery shopping at your age."
He nods but refuses to say anything. From where does the cashier's interest come from? He has no idea but doesn't like it one bit. This is already more attention than they typically like to receive. After having paid for the food, he quickly leaves the store. If he can help it, he won't return here in the future. No need to attract even more attention.