ANYWHERESVILLE

By: chocolate rules

Chapter 4: An Unseen Image

Disclaimer: I own them, and they say hi...lol...thanks to the WB...Yeah so Don, Mirror Dudes mine, okay

"Dean, you okay there son?" Don asked looking at the now startled young man. Dean nodded and sat back up again. He repositioned the mirror and this time was prepared for what he saw.

A young man of around Dean's age stared back at him. He looked terrified. His face was all cut up and, well he looked positively dead. He seemed to be worried, petrified, and shocked by what he was seeing. But wasn't he supposed to be the attacker? Why was he worried?

Then Dean had something to really fret over. It, HE, he looked at him. This reflection looked straight at Dean. Every muscle in Dean's body tensed up. He made to get up and somehow attack this confused spirit but found himself very much stuck in position. That's probably what happened to Sam, why he's all curled up like that.

"Help me!" hew mouthed. Dean's eyes grew wide with confusion, this was defiantly a first.

"Help Me!" It yell into him. Dean felt his voice in his head, rattling around in his mind. How was he supposed to help anyone if he could move?

"HELP ME!" he yelled again. This time, Dean watched as fury engulfed the spirits eyes. It lunged at Dean and shoved him making him land beside Sam.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" Dean yelled as he crashed into the wall. It was Don's turn to fall back in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" Don asked. Dean, finding that he could move again, stood up quickly. He looked back at Sam. Sam was no longer suffocating. Apparently, when he had pushed Dean, the spirit had released his hold on Sam's neck. Sam was now coughing and gasping for air.

Don turned back to Sam as soon as his question had left his lips. Sam was turning red and was coming hard for breath. He was still, however, stuck to the wall. Don leaned in to check him out.

"Don't touch him." Dean repeated for the third time. "It's not gone yet."

"What's not?"

"Whatever that thing was that pushed my. And whatever that thing is that has a hold on Sam." He said looking around. He looked down at Don, whose eyes were now mixed with worry and confusion. Sam stopped coughing. "It's still here."

"What is it?" Don asked, Dean looked around again and shook his head no.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked looking back at the younger boy. Sam nodded.

"Sam." he corrected.

"Don't move any." Dean commanded. The little mirror he had been given had flown from his hand. He know he needed it again. To see this 'man' again, Dean would need to see him through the mirror.

"It's still got me." Sam said quietly. "I can't move."

"Don't move, dummy. And I know. Listen." Dean said. Then, he saw the object lying beneath on of the two sinks.

"How are you going to stop it?" Sam asked, as Dean reached down for the mirror. Standing back up, Dean looked over at Sam so he could clearly see as Dan rolled his eyes. But it wasn't a bad question, how was he going to stop it?

"Can't you move, kid?" Don asked the stationary Sam.

"No, can't."

"Are you like tied down or something?"

"No, like held down." Sam looked back at Dean. "Can't you break the connection or something, this is starting to get really old."

Then, as Dean nodded and started bouncing the mirror from hand to hand and Don was trying to figure out if it would be okay for him to leave (or heck, he had entered the bathroom for a reason), it happened again.

Sam was punched three times in the stomach. This quickly reminded him of the knife wounds, which started at that moment to hurt immensely. Both men watched as Sam started being pivoted with the attacks , not at all understanding what was occurring. Then, Sam's eyes grew wild again. It had pulled out the offending weapon again and sneered at Sam, taunting him to scream. Taunting him like it was all a game.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Sam cried out as he was stabbed for the fifth time. He banged his head on the wall behind him as the blood poured out again from the new insertion on his reflection. Now, he felt the extremity of the exhaustion. Now, as the blood flowed out his chest, emerges his shirt, and penetrated the surrounding ground, Sam Winchester took one last breath before closing his eyes and entering the darkness.

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