Everything about this place sets off alarms in my head. During the day it was manageable, but now it's like there's a fire alarm going off inside my brain. And yet the presence of my brother and even Lindy is calming, steadying. So I don't hesitate to follow Dean as he leads us towards the building.

Despite myself, I wish Dad were here. Dad always seems to know what to do and although I think he's the last one who should be giving orders about how to live my life, he's the first one I'd look to for orders when it comes to how to fight a demon. I just can't help it.

I try to think of a way to keep my brother and Lindy from following me into the demon's lair, but it's kind of a lost cause. If they don't want to listen to me, there's nothing I can do about it. I can't exactly lock them in the car.

"Hey, Sam." Dean draws my attention. I look at him and he's got his 'I've just thought of something hilarious that I have to share with you now even though now's really not the time for jokes' face on, "I figured it out. I'm going to be on a plane, piloted by the dryer sheet bear, crashing into the Impala."

"That's not funny." I respond.

At the same time Lindy asks, "You mean Snuggle?"

Dean shrugs, "That thing's evil." he says simply, "And it creeps me out a little."

We're standing in front of the door to the building so we all kind of drop the subject without any of us voicing a word to do so. Everything is terribly quiet. The kind of quiet where you feel like you should scream or something just to interrupt it. I exchange a quick glance with Dean that communicates how we're going to enter the building. Dean goes first, gun drawn and ready. I follow right behind, sweeping the other corner of the room for anything and covering Dean's back. Lindy follows and I notice that her hands are clutching the hilts of the daggers that Dean let her borrow which she has strapped to her sides. I'm a little surprised that she's not clutching her camera like earlier today. In the face of everything she seems to almost have forgotten it, despite the fact that she's still wearing a backpack which I'm sure contains it. That's probably for the best, though. Cameras are generally not too helpful when it comes to stopping something bent on taking your life.

The shop looks way creepier in the dark. The shelves lining the store are just dim suggestions of shapes in the gloom. I pull a flashlight out of my pocket, holding it in one hand and my gun in the other. Dean snaps on a flashlight, too, and after a moment of Lindy searching through her backpack, she produces one as well. Three small beams sway across the room, sometimes crisscrossing as they highlight the gaping emptiness. After searching through the entire front room for something and finding nothing, I slowly start forward towards the room behind the counter.

Almost predictably, as soon as the three of us step away from the door, it slams shut on its own. Lindy runs back to the door and pulls on the handle, but, as usual, it won't budge. Dean's flashlight is on her and it illuminates the expression on her face as she turns back to face us and this room. Her eyes are very wide.

"It's okay. That happens." Dean says, lowering his flashlight to the floor, "Let's go."

Lindy nods quickly, her hands slowly releasing the door knob and returning to the hilts of Dean's daggers. The three of us each take a different aisle between the shelves and converge on the counter. The creaking of our feet on the floorboards is the only noise in this unnatural silence. My instincts keep screaming at me that this thing is going to attack at any second, not to let my guard down even a fraction just because the only sign of paranormal activity so far has been the door slamming.

Both Dean and my guns' settle on the door to the backroom as we reach the counter. The door is closed, keeping us from seeing what, if anything, waits beyond it. I'm closest to the break in the counter, so I move around and approach the door first.

"Sam, wait for me." Dean orders, as he slowly moves along the counter, gun still trained on the door.

I ignore him and push the door with my foot. It swings open with surprising responsiveness, not so much as a creak from the hinges. The absence of such a tell-tale noise stands out to me, seeming unusual given the state of disuse this whole town is in. I glance quickly over my shoulder, and see both Dean and Lindy hurrying towards me.

"Sam!" Dean is yelling at me, but I don't wait to hear what else he has to say. I continue through the door into the even deeper shadows beyond. My flashlight barely penetrates the haze, seeming barely able to fight off the heavy darkness weighing down upon it. I expect it, but I still jump when this door slams behind me, just like the front door. Vaguely, I can hear Dean yelling, but it sounds like he's really far away. I try not to let that distract me, instead quickly searching the room with flashlight and gun for my adversary.

"Sam…"

The voice seems to seep through my skin and I can't pinpoint a source. I think maybe it's coming from the cellar, so I approach the trapdoor wearily.

"Sam…"

The voice seems to be trying to goad a response from me, but I ignore it, not letting my focus waver.

"When will you learn, Sam?" the voice taunts me.

I can't help but wonder what it's talking about. Learn what?

"Sam…when will you learn…you're fears always creep up on you from behind…"

I realize too late what's going on. Even though I spin around as soon as the words reach me, I'm too late to stop the darkness from falling upon me from behind. My hand instinctively squeezes the trigger of my gun, but the shot flies off to the side as the darkness knocks my hand down. I feel myself falling backwards and I wait for my back to hit the ground. It seems to take forever, like I'm falling in slow motion. When it finally happens, my flashlight gets knocked out of my hand and rolls away. My last defense rolls away out of reach and the darkness doesn't hesitate to bury me, like the waves of the ocean. I yell for Dean, but the darkness comes crushing over my face and I feel the cry die in my throat. Then, the whole world is black.