Author's note: Hey, I'm back with the new chapter! Nothing more too say than I hope you enjoy:)


Previously on…


Supernatural…

Two brothers on a long journey, DEAN and SAM WINCHESTER, united not only by blood, but by the burning desire for vengeance. Vengeance for their mother who was brutally slain by a demon more than a decade ago. The very same demon who struck once more by killing on Sam's love JESSICA. Now, trained in combat and with wide knowledge of the mystic arts, the two travel the country, hunting the creatures of malice and darkness, hoping to one day come across the monstrosity that set them on their path in the first place…

Silent Hill…

A small resort town in Northern part of the country, SILENT HILL fell victim to a tragedy that literally turned it into a ghost town not soon after. Over the years, people who have lost their way stumble into this town. They never return.

The brothers, on their way to tracking down their father, come across news of a bevy of disappearances across the country, all of which point to one commonality. They were all last seen near the deserted town of Silent Hill. Surely enough, the two decide to investigate. As they drive down a winding road, a horrible nightmare causes Sam to lash out violently, nearly causing them to crash on an eighteen-wheeler. They barely missed. But then, they had the problem of uncontrollably swerving through the railings. Thankfully, Dean managed to regain control just in time, but not without damage to the beautiful Impala, and from what Sam saw, running over a beautiful young woman.

Dean however, doesn't see this, and decides to drive to Brahms, the town nearest to Silent Hill, in order to get information. By the time they get there however, Sam has grown unexplainably ill. That's why he gets left inside the motel while Dean sets out to do the job, to which end he met a beautiful waitress, CINDY BENNETT, and her older brother MICHAEL. It is them who inadvertently confirm Dean's suspicions about Silent Hill. But as they discuss the strange town, the troubled Sam finds himself coaxed into suicide, by none other than his dead girlfriend Jessica. Dean manages to save Sam in time, as well as convinces him to investigate the town of Silent Hill, where the disappearances seem to point.

Michael, suspecting that Dean is on his way to Silent Hill, decides to investigate, only to find his dead sister CYBIL driving past him. Distracted, he doesn't notice that the road abruptly disappears beneath him. Too late to stop his car, Michael falls right into what looks like a bottomless pit…


Chapter 3: "A Hint of Madness"


Dean blew a puff of air into his hands, and began to rub them together. "It's freaking cold here, man." he glumly complained, as he and his brother finally reached the clearing that stood at the edge of Silent Hill. A thick fog obstructed their view, literally covering the horizon in a lifeless shade of grey. Their flashlights had little to no affect either, only managing to illuminate one foot's distance. At the very least, they could still see the dark-green grass beneath their feet, and that it stretched undisturbed off into the distance. They were close to their destination. "Straight ahead." whispered Sam, carelessly marching right into the fog.

"Wait up, Sammy boy." Dean remarked, knowing full well that his brother was only this hotheaded whenever something really bothered him.

"Scared of a little fog Dean?" Sam taunted, stopping only at the sight of forms beyond the grey mist. "I think I see something…"

"…does it have boobies?" Dean asked with mock excitement, only to frown as his younger brother once again chose to completely ignore him.

"It's a fence." Sam declared, as he got a good view of the frail, wooden border not ten feet away. They were painted white, but old age had already caused it to chip away, leaving only a faded color and some unsightly cracks. Just a little further and he could already make out the shape of a barnyard and some stables, all of them sharing the same derelict condition. "Looks like a ranch."

"Okay…" muttered a rather nonchalant Dean. Sam turned and stared at him. "You're not cracking a Michael Jackson joke?" he then asked, with a somewhat beleaguered smile on his face.

"Too easy." Dean quickly responded. "Besides, I'm already creeped out enough as it is."

"Good call." Sam retorted, when the sound of something cracking open forced him to quickly turn around. Dean on the other hand, already had a hand on the grip of his pistol, though he didn't pull it out of his belt just yet.

"Should I ask if somebody's there?" inquired Sam, though he himself already had a hand stuck inside his duffel bag, ready to take out the sawed-off double-barrel shotgun that he always did love to use.

"Sure Sammy, let's give away the element of surprise." Dean sarcastically retorted, as he began to slowly move to the direction of the mysterious noise.

"It could just be the wind blowing." Sam rebutted. "Or a ferret."

"Right. Because in our line of duty, never has there been one time when we let our guard down right before something big and ugly came down on our heads."

"Point taken."

"Good. Let's go."

The small fence didn't prove to be much of an obstacle for the two brothers, who barely made a sound as they climbed over it. With guns drawn defensively, they didn't waste any time in making sure that the immediate area, or at least as much as vision permitted them, was clear. Of course, with how little their flashlights helped that black evening, ensuring their present safety wasn't exactly an easy ordeal. A sudden rattling however, gave them the perfect opportunity to readjust their senses. "Sound came from there…" Dean declared in a muted voice, pointing both his pistol and his flashlight to the old stables.

The double-doors leading inside were left open, giving Dean a glimpse of the empty horse stalls that were left untended within. Still keeping as silent as he could, the older Winchester made a quick dash to the side of the entrance, and immediately pressed his back against it. Sam followed suit, though unlike his brother, he kept low to the ground instead of sticking to the wall. Another rattle came from inside, only this time; it was followed by a much more distinct sound of heavy shuffling. Like feet slowly dragging across the floor. Somebody, or something, was definitely inside.

Dean shot his brother a quick look, and nodded. Sam returned the gesture, laying the duffel bag on the dark-green grass and finally pulling out the double-barrel. The noise grew louder. Without any hesitation both of them charged in, guns at the ready, just in case something horrific would come barreling toward them. And the very first thing their flashlights fell on was a little girl's limp legs, sprawled on the ground; the rest of her body obscured by shadows. "Oh hell…" both brothers muttered, just before something dragged the girl's body into one of the empty horse stalls to their right, and out of their view.

"Go!" Dean yelled, as he and Sam made a frantic sprint to the stall where the girl disappeared into. In the back of their minds, they were certain that it was already too late to save the girl's life, especially with the amount of blood that was left on the floor. But still, with the knowledge that this was their chance to take down whatever hurt that girl, and possibly put a premature end to this case; neither Sam nor Dean left any room for second-guessing their actions. In the short span of time that they covered the gap between themselves and the girl's body, they mentally prepped themselves for whatever it was that had taken her. They had live rounds in their guns, packets of salt in their pockets, vials of holy water in their jacket, and daggers made entirely out of pure silver holstered by their ankles, just in case. Vampire, demon, werewolf, zombie, anything, they would have been ready. But they never expected a magnum revolver to greet them in the face.

"Stay away from her!" screamed a frail old man, on his knees, who cradled the girl protectively in his arm. She was already dead. Her eyes stared blankly overhead. "Stay away!" the old man yelled once more, cocking his gun just to prove that he meant business. Dean however, didn't flinch, as he still had his pistol trained right between the old man's eyes. "Drop the weapon!" ordered the older Winchester, fairly certain that at the angle the old man held his gun; he'd never connect with a fatal shot. "Now!"

"You're just like them! Aren't you?" the old man then accused, his hand still shaking. "Just like the rest of them!"

"I said drop the weapon!" Dean yelled, still not relenting from his own stance. Sam gave his brother a nervous look, obviously unsure of the guilt or innocence that the old man may have. "He's human…"

"Leave my granddaughter alone!" the old man finally screamed, prompting the two brothers to take a second. It was only then that they realized the tears from his eyes. It was also only then that they had a good look at his face. There was a small scar on his grey brow, which looked to have been very deep once. His white hai

r was completely gelled back, and he had a trimmed beard which covered his chin, and the top of his upper lip. He wore a brown jacket over a plain, flannel shirt, and a pair of slacks that were milky white. "Just leave her alone…"

"Your what?" Sam asked, the first one of them to lower his gun.

"Please…she didn't do anything wrong…" then pleaded the old man, his aggression clearly giving away to genuine despair.

"What happened here?" Dean asked, still weary of the mysterious person in front of them. He still lowered his pistol nonetheless. "Who are you?"

"My God…they killed her…" came the old man's tearful reply. "My poor girl…"

"Sir, please." Sam knelt down beside the anguished man, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It took awhile before he got calm enough to even look the young Winchester in the face without breaking apart. Dean stepped closer, and got on a knee was well. "Tell us what happened."

"…I…" the old man's gaze returned to the girl that he cradled. "I have to go."

"Sir…" Sam reached for the old man's shoulder, but the old man suddenly jerked away.

"She said this would happen…back at the school, she said it would happen…"

"She?" Dean furrowed his brows. "Your granddaughter?"

"I have to go back…" mumbled the old man. "I must…"

"Sir…" Sam raised his palms slowly to the air, trying to show a gesture that they were on his side. "…we need you to tell us…"

"Leave us alone!" the old man suddenly snapped, cutting Sam off before he could finish. Dean shook his head, and stood back up, obviously more than a little frustrated at the old man's refusal to help. In fact, he was right about to speak his mind, when something else managed to catch his attention. The sound of footsteps. Sam and Dean exchanged urgent glances, and pulled out their guns once again.

"Stay here." Dean instructed, pointing to the old man who was still too lost in grief to even notice their cause for alarm. "Watch over him."

"Be careful." came Sam's answer. Dean nodded, and without another moment's hesitation, he headed out to the field to hunt for whatever made the sound.


Cindy let out a contented sigh as she stepped out of her shower, wearing only a small, wet towel to cover herself. It was only a quarter before eleven that evening, and on any other day, she would have still been out with her friends, partying the night away. But that evening, it was different. That evening, she needed time to herself. To rest. Lay back to house wine and music. Unfortunately for her, however, her plans would reach a screeching halt before they could even begin.

The screeching noise of her phone ringing interrupted her just as she was about to enter the bedroom for a fresh change of clothes. It came from the living room, which was just at the end of the short corridor that she was in. "…okay…okay…" she muttered to herself as she leisurely made her way to the phone, which hung on the wall beside the fridge. It took one more ring before she finally picked it up. Her eyes fell idly on the trash can in the kitchen, where the crumpled bill for a locksmith's service was hastily thrown.

"Cindy! Cindy are you there?" frantically yelled the woman on the other end of the line. Cindy knitted her brows and pressed her hand against the wall. "Cindy, oh my God!"

"Sarah? Is that you?" she asked, only vaguely familiar with the voice of his brother's lover. Both of them knew that they weren't exactly in good terms after all, which meant that conversation of any kind was quite a rarity, and most possibly something of importance. "What's wrong?"

"It's Michael…he hasn't, we lost contact almost two hours ago…"

"Ugh." Cindy rolled her eyes, and then leaned on the door of the fridge. "He's a cop Sarah. Maybe he's just arresting illegal immigrants or whatever."

"Cindy, no, Cindy…" protested Sarah with her voice still panicked. It gave Cindy an unsettling feeling to say the least. "Michael…he was headed for Silent Hill."

Cindy's eyes widened at Sarah's haunting words. The town that devoured her sister had now called her brother as well. Sarah's voice soon disappeared into a blur, as Cindy mechanically placed the phone back on the receiver. She needed to change.


The night had grown colder. Much colder. So much so that Dean felt like he was walking completely naked. "Come out, come out…" he mumbled, trying his best to ignore the piercing cold that permeated his very being. "…at least before I get pneumonia and die…" he added, as he made sure that no obscure shadow was out of its place. With the fog as thick as it was, he had to rely on being able to catch the slightest sound and movement, just in case something was out there with the intention of killing him. Or eating him. Still, he's been through worse. "Come on already!" Dean quickly turned both pistol and flashlight to the left, at the sound of grass rustling. "…huh." False alarm.

Dean quickly performed a quick one-eighty, just to make sure that nothing had crept up from behind. Still nothing. "This is hopeless…" Dean muttered beneath his breath, only to stop cold at the faint sound of static. It was barely noticeable at first, like the sound coming from a far-off distance. But then it began to spike. Sporadically at first, growing louder and louder. "Oh, shit." Dean hastily stuffed his pistol back in his belt, and pulled out the source of the static from underneath his jacket. It was the EMF Reader, a small device that he designed specifically to read the magnetic frequencies of the immediate area. And it was going completely wild.

Sam cautiously trained his flashlight across the empty horse stalls, making sure that there was nothing hiding inside any of them. The old man was still too deep in his own grieving to notice what was going on. And Sam honestly couldn't blame him. He knew what loss felt like. He knew that it made your heart sink past your stomach, and that it made you feel so small that you'd think you were insignificant. The only difference between them now, it would seem, is that Sam chose to do something about his loss. Unfortunately however, choosing to do something about it didn't mean that he rid himself off the guilt he felt for it.

"You shouldn't push yourself too hard, Sam…" Jessica, whispered, emerging from the shadows. A vision in pristine white, just like the last time he saw her. And just as beautiful. Sam held his breath, and slowly lowered his weapon. "Jess…"

"Remember how cranky you got when you crammed for that POLISCI exam?" she softly asked, as she placed her arms around her lover's broad shoulders. "I swear, you were living off of coffee and Tylenol…"

Sam closed his eyes, and nodded in response. Strong as he was, he still couldn't find it in him to utter a word in her presence. His guilt made it impossible to do so. He didn't even notice the double-barrel and the flashlight slipping away from his grip, and tumbling down to the wooden floor. He just didn't care.

"…plus, we had a big fight that week. About ice cream? God, that was so stupid…" Jessica shook her head, and laughed silently at the old memory. "Remember how we patched it up? The night I came over to get some of my stuff? You were at your desk, and we couldn't even look each other in the eye? Do you remember?"

"…yes." came Sam's shaky reply. Jessica leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek, before whispering to his ear. "What did you say, Sam?"

"I…I asked if Tylenol was low-carb..." Sam softly answered, his voice cracked and his eyes already swelling with tears. Jessica smiled, and began to laugh. "I was like, 'what?', then you started going on about how you wanted to try a low-carb diet, and you were scared that Tylenol was going to make you lose your abs or something…"

"Yeah…" Sam replied, remembering every word single with a mix of joy and sadness. He couldn't stop shaking.

"It was so stupid, I couldn't help but laugh." Jessica closed her eyes, and rested her head against Sam's chest. "…but then again…you always did know how to make me laugh, didn't you Sammy?"

"Jess…God, Jess, I…"

"It's okay Sam, it's okay. You don't have to tell me. I know. You can still come with us. We're so happy here…me and…you know. And we can totally ditch that noose idea. It was dumb anyway. I mean…" Jessica took a small step away from Sam, and turned her gaze to the gun by their feet. "…it'll only hurt for a second…"

Sam followed his lover's line of sight, and took a long, deep breath. There it was. The answer to his suffering. An end to his loneliness. The coward's way out. But before Sam could act out on his impulses, Dean came barging into the stables with his gun trained on the doomed lovers. The static from his EMF was nearly deafening. "Sam, move!" he immediately yelled, as loud as his voice would allow him. "Now!"

"Dean, wait!" Sam protested, as he defensively pulled Jessica to his back. "Don't!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"It's Jessica!"

"Are you freaking high?"

"Dean, drop the gun- -"

"Look at it!"

"I said drop the gun! Sam shouted once more, before angrily reaching down to grab the double-barrel that he left on the ground. He didn't realize that by bending down, he left the woman behind him wide open for attack. And Dean did just that. Seizing the moment as it came, the elder Winchester pulled the trigger, sending a single bullet to the air, and into the creature's head.

"No!" Sam screamed, only to find himself unable to move at the sight of what he had been protecting. It was already on the floor, writhing and moaning suggestively - - almost sexually - - in a pool of its own blood. Its skin was a light shade of brown, like deeply stained animal leather, sewn over the figure of a slim woman. Its arms were bent back at an impossible angle, with its hands bound to the back of its neck by the long, disheveled blonde hair that covered the entirety of its head. It had on a pair of bright pink heels, and laces, as well as an old piece of lingerie to cover its lower extremities. Its breasts however, unlike the rest of its body, were bloody crimson, with yellow and blue veins clearly gathering at each point. "Does that look like Jessica to you?" Dean asked sardonically, turning his attention to his stunned brother. "Huh, Sammy? Does that thing look like your girlfriend? Come on, answer me!"

Sam pressed his knuckle against his mouth, still speechless at everything that had just transpired. Dean bit his lip, and fired two more rounds into the flailing monstrosity, one in the stomach, and the other on the top of her breast. It succeeded in finally ending the abomination's sexual death wail. Only then did Sam look away. Incidentally, the static had also died down.

"Remember what those two guys said. This place plays tricks on you. So don't let it."

"…uh…" Sam pushed back his hair, and turned to his brother. "…any idea what it is?"

"Looks like something from bondage dot com." Dean muttered, tilting his head as he kept his flashlight on the monstrosity. "I'm calling it boob-job."

"...think there's more than just this one?" came Sam's next question, to which Dean took out the EMF from his jacket. The small buzzing noise was still there. "I dunno' Sammy, but I'm betting that when we get closer to the town, this thing'll be screeching its little electronic heart out."

"Wait…" Sam quickly pointed his flashlight to the horse stall where the old man was. He was already gone, and so was her granddaughter's body. "…this is just getting better and better."

"What's that?" Dean asked, pointing his flashlight at a folded piece of paper that was left where the old man once was. It was covered in dry blood. "Must have fallen out of his pocket or something…"

"It's a newspaper clipping. Looks old." Sam declared, as he picked it up, raising it so that it was in the light's path. "It's too hard to read…"

"Blast." Dean lowered his head for a moment, before turning his attention on the 'Boob-Job's' corpse once again. "If more of these are running around, then the old guy's in trouble. We need to find him."

"Huh…he mentioned something about a school, right?"

"Yeah. But it's a pretty long shot, Sammy."

"Well, unless we can have this piece of paper dry-cleaned, it's the only shot we have."

"…alright. Alright." Dean shone the light over the dead monstrosity one last time, before pointing it over to the open doors. "Let's go to school..."


Chapter 3 – End

Author's Note: Well, that does it for this chapterJ Drop me a line and tell me what you think, take care now! Cheerios :D