I don't own the boys. Yadda yadda yadda.
Hey hey! Sorry it took me longer to update this time. The last several days have been CRAZY! Anyway, here we are: the second to last chapter. I actually have the final chapter written, but I'm gonna make you squirm for a day or two before I post it. Trust me...it will be worth it. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. I love you guys!
In each eye two red dots reflected back at Dean. And from over his shoulder, a low growl echoed loudly, bouncing off the walls in surround sound. Dean shivered.
In an instant, Dean spun around, putting his body protectively in front of Sam. Squaring his shoulders and planting his feet firmly in place Dean faced off with the eyes. He drew his gun, confident in its abilities, confident that the rock salt pack tightly inside would at the very least slow down, if not kill entirely, the creature. He aimed expertly, pointing the barrel directly between the red glowing eyes. "Just try it, you bastard," Dean goaded, staring the beast down.
To his right, Dean heard the soft click as Sam cocked his own weapon. "Stay behind me," Dean warned his brother, his voice intoning more than a request. It was an order, and Sam knew better than to object. Truth be known, he was grateful to have Dean moving in first.
The creature growled again, moving slowly, gracefully, toward its prey. It's eyes seemed to float in mid air, bodiless. Dean didn't dare turn the light on, for fear that it would invoke the attack. But the red eyes gave enough indication and Dean steadied his aim, pulling the trigger. The momentum of the shot rocked him a bit, but Dean held firm. The eyes were gone, and they could once again see nothing but blackness into the mine.
"Do you think you got it?" Sam whispered, planting his fingers into Dean's shoulder.
"I wish I knew," Dean whispered back. "Only one way to tell." He clicked the button on the flashlight, illuminating the darkness before them. Swishing the light back and forth, shining it into the numerous nooks and crannies of the tunnel, Dean moved forward in search of the creature.
"Can you see it anywhere?" Sam asked, his hand resting firmly on Dean's shoulder as he moved with his brother.
"I don't see a thing," was the nervous reply. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."
Dean didn't have long to wait for an answer. As the boys continued to move forward, nearing an intersection, the deep growling began again. Dean spun, turning the light in the direction of the sound. The red of its eyes reflected against the yellow of the light, mixing together to create the image of flames in its round orbs. But the flashlight also shed light on the creature in question. The descriptions had been accurate, but lacked embellishment. It's pale white skin held a slightly greenish tint to it, and it stretched tightly across the muscular body, defining every curve and bulge. It was definitely closer to the two hundred fifty pound mark, and every pound of it was muscle. Drool hung from the mouth, making it look almost rabid, and it's razor sharp teeth protruded from the vicious smile as though to say lunch. The knife-like claws extended six inches from its massive feet. But the scariest part was the crouch. The creature had lowered itself, ready to pounce, and Dean and Sam barely had time to ingest its image before it sprang forward, landing with a shrill shriek on top of Dean.
Dean barely had time to register what was about to happen, but he'd used his final split second to shove Sam out of the way. Sam fell several feet away, unable to keep his footing from Dean's motion, but it meant he was safe from the creature. He yelled, furious at his brother for risking his own life to save Sam, but terrified at the resulting sight before him. Reaching deep within himself, Sam channeled his remaining energy. He pulled himself to his feet, discarding the cane that, oddly enough, was impeding his ability to help. It was difficult to steady a gun and grip the cane at the same time.
Dean let out a quick gasp as he felt the weight of their prey fall heavily on top of his chest, knocking the air out of him. The claws of it's hind legs embedded themselves into his right leg and his face contorted in agony. He would have screamed, but he was finding it difficult to gain enough breath to do much more than fight for consciousness. Dean thrashed wildly, throwing a left jab to the creature's throat and knocking it back enough for him to suck in a desperately needed breath of air. But it was back on top of him in an instant, sinking it's sharp teeth deep into his side. With air finally in his lungs, Dean howled in pain.
Sam cocked his gun, aimed, and fired. And then fired again. And again. But the salt loaded into the pistol did nothing more than piss the creature off. Snarling, it abandoned the attack on Dean and turned angrily on Sam. Ohhh shit, Sam thought, backing up slowing as he fumbled in his pack for a different weapon. His hand closed around the molded handle of his knife, pulling the weapon from the bag and uncovering the ten inch blade. His eyes darted quickly to Dean who was struggling painfully to his hands and knees, and failing miserably.
The creature slunk slowly to its new prey. It was in no hurry. Instinct told it that neither boy was much of a threat. Sam continued to back up, carefully placing his feet one behind the other. He knew even the smallest stumble would do him in. If he fell, there was no hope.
"Sammy, be careful!" Dean croaked, finally succeeding in pulling himself upright. He sat unsteadily , swaying back and forth from the intense blood loss. But he still continued to climb, making small victories as he made to stand up.
Sam nodded, too nervous to speak. Fear filled his youthful features, combined with a desire to run to help Dean. But he persisted in moving backward, his residual numbness from the earlier injury long forgotten. The creature continued forward, still moving slowly, fluidly. It seemed to Sam that if he could just continue to move slowly, he would be safe until he could come up with a plan. But there was something Sam hadn't counted on, and he shuddered, sucking in a deep breath as his back hit solid wall. The creature lunged forward, hooking it's arms onto Sam's shoulders and pulling him down to the ground.
At the very least, he'd managed to anticipate the attack as soon as his back hit the wall, and Sam braced his arms, ready to fend off the monster. His hands hit solid matter, the muscle mass built up so tightly it didn't budge. He used all his strength to push, succeeding only in prolonging the inevitable. Despite his attempts, Sam was soon overpowered and he soon felt teeth sink into his shoulder as if it were butter. He screamed.
Seeing his little brother physically attacked, fighting under the weight of the beast, did for Dean what he wasn't able to do for himself. It brought him to his feet. He scrambled forward, ignoring the screaming pain in his side and leg. The knife Sam had retrieved from his pack lay uselessly on the ground, several feet from where the younger hunter had landed. Dean stooped to retrieve it, and almost didn't make it back into a stand as his side protested harshly to the undesired bend. Dean fought through the pain that threatened to drop him mercilessly to the ground and brought the knife high into the air with both hands, gaining the necessary momentum he needed to pierce the flesh of Sam's attacker.
With a kung foo yell, Dean lowered the knife, digging it deep into the tough flesh on the creature's back. He added to the attack with a firm twist of the knife before pulling it out, preparing to attack again. His efforts were rewarded with a powerful kick from the beasts hind leg, the curve of the claws hooking into the flesh of his gut and tearing it as Dean stumbled backwards against the force. And the it was on top of Sam again, ripping the flesh on his arms as he fought against the razors that hovered all around him. Four feet, three claws on each one, and God only knows how many teeth in its mouth. They were everywhere, and Sam's strength was quickly waning.
Dean clutched at his stomach, blood pouring out like a fountain. He was quickly finding himself succumbing to the vertigo that accompanied severe blood loss. If he had a mirror, Dean would have barely recognized the pale, ghost like face that would stare back. He was getting weaker by the minute. But he staggered up again, determined to save his brother before it was too late. His only thoughts his brother's safety. Sammy. I'm coming. Just hang on. I'll get him off you. He's toast.
More weapons. Different weapons. There has to be something.His gait more of a stumble than it's usual swagger, Dean crossed the tunnel to the bags they had abandoned earlier. In one, he pulled another pistol. This one loaded with silver bullets. For good measure, Dean loaded a final bullet inside; a hollow tip filled with poison that would explode upon impact. If the silver didn't work, he sure as hell hoped that one would.
He returned to Sam and their hunt the instant he had a prepared weapon, but he was too late. Dean arrived at their side just in time to see the beasts six inch claws impale themselves inside Sam's chest; into his heart. "Oh God, Sammy. NO!" From the corner of his eye Dean could see Sam throw his head back in agony, the tortured scream echoing around the entire cave. But Dean couldn't allow himself even a second to focus on that. Instead, he channeled the sound, using it as momentum as he fired the gun. Crack. Crack. Crack. He emptied all eight bullets into the creature's body. The beast had dropped after only the second bullet. Stopped breathing after the fourth. But Dean didn't stop firing until the gun was empty. And then he continued to fire, the gun clicking hollowly as it hit air instead of additional bullets.
"Dean." That voice. Sam's voice; shallow and fleeting. Dean finally dropped the gun and fell beside his brother, lifting the last foot of the beast off of Sam's body and shoving it aside in disgust. He gathered his brother into his arms, pulling him painfully into his lap as he pressed his hands against the wounds to staunch the flow of blood. In the light of the fallen flashlight, Dean could see Sam's lips were already turning blue. His injured heart just didn't have the strength to pump blood throughout his entire body.
"Hang on, Sammy," Dean cried, tears flowing unnaturally down the side of his face. "I'm gonna get you help. You're gonna be fine. Just fine."
Sam reached a hand up, placing it gently on Dean's own hand. They felt ice cold. "You were a great big brother," Sam mumbled, finding it hard to force his lips into their desired shapes. "You always looked out for me. Always took care of me."
"I always will," Dean sobbed. "This doesn't end now, Sammy. This ends when I tell you it ends. You end when I tell you to. NOT NOW!"
Sam's breath came out in short gasps now, every one a struggle to pull in. But he forced a stern smile across his face. "It's Sam," he rasped. "You promised."
A light chuckle escaped from Dean. "Why don't you make me stop," he suggested quietly, pressing harder against the flow of blood as he noticed his grip wasn't doing its job.
Sam laughed back, but it became a wheeze almost instantaneously, his back arching in pain as he tried to regain what little air he'd been managing to bring in. "Don't...make me...laugh," he said weakly.
Dean had realized the seriousness of the situation before he'd even killed the beast, but now he sprang to action. "Sam, you have to help me with something," he ordered. "I need you to hold your hands against your chest. I need my phone. I have to get you help."
The lethargic nod Sam gave did little to ease Dean's doubts. There was no way Sam had the strength to keep pressure on his own wound, but sitting there, watching his little brother bleed out wasn't an option either. And the phone was at least fifteen feet away. "Ten seconds, Sammy," Dean pleaded, pressing Sam's hands firmly against the oozing blood. "I just need you to hold this for ten seconds and them I'll be back. We'll count together, okay little brother?"
Sam nodded again, fighting to keep his eyes open. "OK," he mouthed, unable to emit any sound.
"One. Two," Dean said loudly, limping quickly to where the cell phone sat in his bag. "Stay with me little brother. Three. Four." Dean rummaged through the bag and emerged triumphantly with the phone, flipping it open. The screen mocked him, announcing that it was searching for a signal.
"Five." Dean announced, trying to hide the panic in his voice as he realized their lifeline was a dud. "Still with me there, Sammy? Six." He limped back toward Sam, his eyes glued to the screen of the phone hoping fervently that a signal would magically appear.
"Seven. I'm coming, Sammy. Almost there. Eight." Dean arrived back at his little brother, hovering over him as he debated whether he should leave him behind and run for help. But the lack of hospitality the town of Devils Elbow had offered them made his decision for him. If he was leaving, so was Sam.
"Nine." Dean lowered himself to Sam, readying himself to lift the boy. "Ten. See, Sammy. I'm back. I made it in te– " Dean froze. Something wasn't right. Sam wasn't right. His eyes watered heavily as he looked at the still body below him. Sam's hand had slipped from his wound, but it didn't matter. The blood wasn't flowing anymore. His heart had stopped.
Dean pulled Sam into his arms, cradling his limp body against his chest and rocking back and forth. The cry boomed out of the mine shaft and echoed over the entire mountain, reaching the ears of the few residents who remained in Devils Elbow. "Nooooo! Sammmmmmeeeeeeeeee!"