Chapter 6

"South Serenity graveyard." Sam spat out as the flashes subsided.

"What about it?" Dean asked, helping the youngest to his feet.

"We have to go there." Sam replied.

"You do realize that bad things generally happen in graveyards, right Sammy?" Dean questioned, keeping his eyes locked on Sam's face.

"Yes Dean, I do realize that, but it's the only way to stop it."

"As long as you know." Dean said and folded himself into the driver's seat of the Impala.

"I do." Sam replied.

"Of course you do. Get in." Dean told him.

Sam complied and pulled the passenger door shut a bit harsher than needed and Dean shot him a glare that could slice through the toughest leather. Sam noticed, but didn't acknowledge, his thought process seemed to be elsewhere, but Dean couldn't even begin to fathom where. The Impala was started and Dean turned out onto the main drag, which led to South Serenity. Sam remained stormily silent in the passenger seat, locking eyes with the scenery flashing by the window along the way and avoiding Dean's concerned gaze when it was passed at him.

About fifteen minutes of driving later, a sign reading South Serenity Cemetery stared blankly out onto the road as the boys drove by. Dean saw the sign and stopped near the entrance. A fresh grave was being dug and a few workers looked a little too warm in the early morning sun. Dean scanned the graveyard and shut the engine off. He made a move to step out onto the cemetery path, but stopped when he saw a look of confusion setting gently on Sam's brow.

"Sammy?" Dean asked curiously, reaching out to lay a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Sam jumped before the eldest man's touch even reached him.

The young man's head whipped around to face the window and the colour drained from his face as he looked out into the cemetery. Sam's eyes began to water with the new pain that was blossoming inside his skull as he stared out into the graveyard, unable to tear his gaze away.

The entire appearance of the cemetery was changed. No longer were the grounds nicely kept, but instead they were overgrown and crowded with trees and old stones that were beginning to crumble away. The crypts that stood in the yard were in shambles, pooled on the earth in uneven piles of rocks and cement and the ground had gaping holes in it.

A dark grey hung thickly over the area, causing fog to tumble amongst the dying stones. Sam's eyes slid over the grounds and over to one of the crypts that still had three walls standing. Outside of the yawning door stood the young psychic whom Sam had been seeing. The boy's blonde hair blew around his heart shaped face in an unseen wind and the blue eyes looked up to the stone. From within the dark depths of the door, a white hand reached to grab the young man by the shoulder and tugged him violently backwards. The man stumbled back and left the ground vacant and browned.

Sam watched the open crypt and felt a cold sensation stagger up his legs and into his chest where he struggled to pull air into his lungs. An insistent humming violated his mind and he couldn't force it away. Pain began shooting from his temples and radiating throughout his entire skull and he squinted his eyes shut against it. In the darkness that fell upon him he saw the desperate face of the young man emerge from the fog and beyond the man the green pricked eyes of the demon stared, not speaking, barely breathing, only watching. Sam tried to force himself away, but it felt as though a hand held him firmly in place. He struggled wildly to escape and his head pounded mercilessly. The blonde boy's lips began to move and speak silent words that only Sam could comprehend.

He disguises himself as a friend. When he came, I thought he was my friend. He wasn't who I thought he was. My parents saw him come. They invited him in and they let him out, thinking that I knew him so it was okay not to check on me. They heard my footsteps go up to my room and heard my voice tell them goodnight, but it wasn't me. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I was dead.

Go to my parents, say that you are a friend from school. They'll let you in. Go to my room. There is a photo of me and Kacey next to my computer. Kacey is the one that came to me that night, but the thing that killed me was not him. Go to the study, there should be clues about the demon...

The voice was cut off with a gasp and Sam saw the pale demon grabbing onto the back of the young man's neck. Blood spilled over the pale fingers and dripped away into the dark fog. The demon's eyes watched through a silent glare that ripped through Sam's head. The youngest Winchester felt as though he were being violently and brutally murdered. Murdered in the same way Jonathan was. Sam felt his heart stagger uncertainly in his chest and felt his lungs heave a final breath before falling still. He was trapped in the fog, and the demon watched, while Jonathan drew in shallow breaths beneath his touch. Sam couldn't help him.

The bookcase...fourth shelf, half way down. Handle.

The light that lingered in Jonathan's eyes died and the boy's face shimmered away, leaving only Sam and the demon, locked in a glare that was difficult to break. Sam's lungs struggled to fill again and his heart tried desperately to thump once more. He blinked and all went white.