Hey anyone who is still with me! See, I warned you about the shortness and the not-so-goodness!
Well, w/e, it will get better! I hope you like the chapter, well, at least a little!
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"Sam! I'm going out! I'll be back in a couple hours!"
The call came from the other end of the one-story ranch. Sam was currently in the room he shared with Dean, while Dean was at the other end of the house in the kitchen.
"OK!" he yelled back to his brother and returned to his homework.
Great, another Friday night all by himself with nothing to do. They had no cable, and he had seen all of the movies they had at least 50 times. He really didn't feel like reading, and it was too late to go out side and do something. So the only thing he had left to do was his idiotic homework.
It was algebra, you know, all that A + B C crap. He hated it. Math was one of his better subjects, and he understood it and did well, but it was just so boring.
His stomach rumbled, bringing back to his memory that he had only had a bag of chips for dinner.
Pushing the enormous books off his sleeping legs, he jumped off his bed. He walked through the small house toward the kitchen.
He was nearly there when he heard something that stopped him in his tracks.
There was a strange tapping coming from above him, in the attic most likely. Sam looked up, and at that exact moment, the lights began to flicker.
Sighing and wishing his big brother was here, Sam grabbed a salt gun and ran up the stairs leading to the attic.
When he finally made it up the tall staircase, he realized he had made an terrible mistake.
He had forgotten a flashlight.
To add to his distress, he heard the door to the attic slam shut.
The panic was starting to claim him, like a bile rising in his throat, when suddenly the room was bright.
He looked around and saw that at least 100 candles had been lit simultaneously, as if someone had flipped a light switch and turned them all on at once. Immediately the horror was back, ripping at his insides.
Sam was about to make a break for it when he felt oddly cold, despite the small fires all around him. He knew that a spirit was here, but he just couldn't see it.
A small lamp jiggled in the corner, drawing Sam's attention to itself. The youngest Winchester was about to take a shot when he had the weirdest sensation.
It was if something had passes through him, and when Sam realized this was indeed what had happened, he knew he was in big trouble.
He started to fall as his control of his limbs gradually diminished.
Finally he landed with a hard thud on his stomach and his eyes closed.
The last thing he could remember was someone or something whispering something that put a chill down his spine.
"Paralyzed. "
Then everything went black.
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"Hey, Sam, it's me. Just checking up on you, but you aren't picking up. I've called you a couple times and I'm starting to thing you've gotten your ass in trouble, again. So, please, if you fine, don't make me come home, or you know I will kill you my self. Ok, whatever call me."
Dean slammed the phone down, worry quickly spreading throughout him. That was the 7th time he had tried to call his little brother, the 7th time. But every single time it had rung 5 times and then went to their answering machine.
Inside his head, he battled whether he should go home or stay at the party.
"What if he is in trouble?"
"Trouble? In that house? We've been living there for almost a month now, have you seen any signs?"
"No, but this isn't something stupid, it's my little brother. He could be in danger, hurt, or even…"
"Ohh Shhuuuuutt uppp, you pussy. You know he isn't dead. How about we just stay at this party for a couple more hours-"
"Hours! Sam would definitely be dead by then! I'll call him one more time, and if he isn't picking up, I'm leaving."
"Sam! Pick up the damn phone! I'm getting sick of this," Dean yelled harshly into the mouth piece.
Suddenly, Dean had a flash of life with out his little brother. Moving to all those new towns with no one, never being able to mess around with any one. He pictured Sam funeral, the pain that he would feel, and he suddenly found himself with tears in his eyes.
He knew what to do.
"Hold on Sammy, I'm coming," he whispered into the mouth piece before slamming the phone down and racing to his car.
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