Author's note: I am so sorry it has taken so long to update, but I have a really good reason. I wrote almost all of the next chapter and when I finished it, I realized it should take place after the second vision, so I had to write this entire chapter too before I could put up another post. Hopefully, it will live up to everyone's expectations. But the next chapter will definitely be coming soon because it is already almost completely written. Enjoy!

Rated PG-13 for violence acts, gruesome imagery, and some language

Chapter 3: The Second Pain

The man grunted in pain. His knees weren't what they used to be. He pulled his car over, trying to bear the pain without success. And that last poltergeist throwing him through a wall sure didn't help. I'm getting too old for this. Yes, that certainly was true. He was getting old and in his line of work, getting old meant getting dead.

Reaching into his backpack on the passenger seat, he pulled out his bottle of pain killers. They had been prescribed years ago for a couple badly broken ribs. Thankfully, he was a master of forging labels and had kept the pills coming.

He popped a pill, waiting for it to kick in. Old. Ha! Normal people wouldn't be old at 42. Normal people have a bed they can call their own for more than a week or two. Normal people don't pass down a bag full of weapons to the next generation, demanding them to stay in the family business without actually saying it. The man shook his head and pulled the car onto the road once more. Never before had he actually sat and contemplated their life style and it wasn't something he felt comfortable doing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, finding his daughter asleep on the backseat. Krissy had been unconscious before her head had hit the seat a few hours ago, forcing him to do the driving for the night. He smiled at the memory of how well she had handled that poltergeist after he was knocked down. Who was he kidding? She kicked its non-existent ass. She had been well trained, having sparring practices and weapons training instead of bowling nights and nervous first dates her whole life. For a 16 year old, she was impressively well adjusted to their style of life, especially without a mother in the picture.

The man had never felt self doubt about how he had raised his daughter, simply wished for an easier one. One that didn't put her life on the line by the day. He sighed. What I wouldn't do for- SHIT!

His thought cut off as something sprinted across the road, missing his car by inches. The brakes screeched as the car slammed to a stop. He winced when he felt the bump of Krissy falling off the seat at the sudden stop.

"Dad? What the hell?" The young girl groaned, still half-asleep.

"Kris, grab your pack." The engine cut out as he pulled the car off the road.

She was suddenly awake, instinct and training kicking in. "What is it?"

"A Karushka, I think. It just ran in front of the car. I almost hit it."

"A Karushka? You're kidding right?" Her father shook his head. "Good thing you didn't hit it, cause that would have pissed it off. Not to mention not doing a thing to kill it. Only ketoret bullets will do that." Krissy pulled an extra shirt over her head and started pulling her hair back, fully awake by now. "Yay for the 11 Holy Spices of Israel."

Her father turned in his seat, surprise evident on his face. "How do you know about Karushkas? We've never faced one before."

She gave him her best oh-please-I'm-not-stupid face. "Dad. You aren't the only one who can research the things that go bump in the night. You must have mentioned it once and I remember the research I did on it. No biggie." She grabbed her backpack, suddenly uncomfortable with the sudden attention to her secret passion.

"No, I'm impressed. God knows at your age, my father had to glue a book to my hand to make me research." They quickly went to the back of the car, popping open the trunk and grabbed some basic weapons: knives, a few hand guns, a shotgun each, and a cross just to be safe.

"They don't call the internet man's greatest invention for nothing, Dad." Krissy glanced at her father from the corner of her eye, a smile dancing on her face.

"Actually, I think that was the wheel."

"Oh please. What has the wheel ever done for us?" She loved baiting her father, knowing he hated the computer.

"You finished little lady?" He asked, the question aimed toward both teasing him and gathering the weapons.

"Yup." She slammed the door closed. "Dad, are you sure it was a Karushka? They aren't known for being in these areas. And running into one as we are driving through? That's a big coincidence."

"I know Krissy. But I know a demon when I see one." He turned away, looking toward the area the demon had vanished into.

"Okay. Just checking. It just seems weird. And you were driving in the dark, so how could you really id the thing?"

"Because I've been doing this my whole life and I trust my eyes." With that, their conversation ended. They started walking toward the small wooded area off the side of the road, almost matching in stride. The young girl cast a quick glance at her father, taking in his appearance, which included a slight limp.

"How you holding up, old man?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "That poltergeist got you bad, Dad. You sure you want to take on this thing so soon?"

"Krissy, I'll be fine." His voice was a little sharper than he intended, but her questions were starting to irritate him. "Just cover my back and I'll cover yours." They continued walking in silence, both lost in thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"There it is." A cave mouth sat looming in front of the hunters, challenging them to enter. "The demon should be in there, seeing as they like dark places."

Quickly, they organized themselves, placing all weapons within reach on their bodies. This was routine for them, having spent their lives hunting together. He glanced at his daughter, watching her muscles begin to tense and her cheeks flush. He knew she would be nervous until they found the thing. Then his baby would shine.

"Ready?" Krissy nodded, her lips tight as if to keep herself from vomiting. She could have been mistaken for terrified if there wasn't that fire of excitement in her eyes.

They walked into the cave, shoulder to shoulder. A faint breeze blew against their faces, raising the hairs on the back of the man's neck. The breeze was cold, and kept getting colder the farther they moved into the cave. That's odd. Shouldn't it get warmer?

Without warning, the temperature plummeted, making them both shiver uncontrollably in their thin clothes.

"Cold pocket" he muttered. He looked over at his daughter, checking to make sure she was okay. Instead, his eyes found a white clawed hand reaching out of the darkness.

"GET DOWN!" He swung his shotgun around, perfectly timing the shot as Krissy's head dropped out of the target. A squeal of pain emitted from the dark. Krissy scrambled away, jumping up behind her father.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, I think-" Suddenly, a shadow jumped from the darkness, slamming him against the cave wall. His chest began to burn where the demon held him up. That's not right. He looked into the demon's face, taking in the lack of eyes and wide mouth. His eyes widened in horror.

"It's not a Karushka! Krissy! It's a Gelu-cruor!" The demon slammed his body against the wall once again, knocking the wind out of him. His body dropped as the thing turned to find the girl.

"Dad! What the fuck is a Gulu whatever!" She raised her gun, firing into the thing's chest. It's not working. DAMN IT! Her gun clicked as the amo ran out. Her father was still on the ground, trying to catch his breath. She stared at the demon, wracking her brain, trying to find any knowledge about the thing standing in front of her. The demon darted forward again, placing it's claws on her face and chest. She gasped at how cold the hands were. The shock was so much. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She looked up, a whimper escaping her lips.

The man looked up, finally able to breathe again. His breath cut out again when he saw his daughter standing in the grasp of the Gelu-cruor. Why wasn't she fighting? She shouldn't let it touch her! He stood up, the pain in his lungs barely registering when he saw his daughter's body fall. Her back hit the floor. A crack sounded in the cave, echoing off the walls as her body shattered like glass into a million pieces of colored ice.

"NOOOOOO!" He rushed forward and fell to his knees. My baby! MY BABY! His hands grasped the crystals, trying to hold onto his little girl. The tiny bits of ice fell through his fingers, melting on contact with his skin. No, no no no no no. She's not suppose to die before me. SHE'S NOT SUPPOSE TO!

With a scream loud enough to wake the dead, the man turned to face his daughter's murderer. He stood, clenching his fists, the rage rolling through his body uncontrolled. He strode forward, completely unaware of his actions. He pulled his arm back, slamming his fist into the thing's face. The demon didn't even flinch at the contact. You killed her! Why did you kill her! The man threw another punch and another and another. His hands began to bleed as the demon's face refused to give in to the beating. Pain flared up his arm as he felt his wrist snap. His strength was failing. Krissy was right. I wasn't ready yet.

The fire had left the man's eyes. He stood, waiting for it to come. The demon stepped forward and placed his claw on the man's chest. He expected searing pain, burning. Anything. All he felt was the claw on his chest. A slight tingle began to trickle down his back, giving him pins and needles. His lungs began to burn as the air grew cold. His breath clouded, impossibly cold to how feverish he felt. His body began to shake, unable to control the shivering. Ice began to form in his eyes, cutting off his vision. Exhaustion seized him as the haze covered his eyes and his mind became sluggish. Darkness took him and his body fell with one final thought. Krissy.

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"Krissy" Sam gasped, opening his eyes. That was… different. Sam blinked his eyes again, making sure he was awake. The lack of pain threw him off, making him unsure of how he should feel. He looked over and found Dean asleep on the bed next to him, his feet still touching the floor so it looked like he felt straight back onto his back asleep. Sam grinned. He must have been watching him sleep, making sure he didn't start growing holes in his body again. Glancing at the clock, he saw he had been asleep for at least 12 hours. And his bladder realized this immediately after his head did.

Quietly, Sam stood up and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. After he finished, he ran the sink for a moment, throwing cold water on his face. He stood, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Why did I get another vision already? Sam studied, his face, impressed at the returning color. Much better than last time he looked. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Why do I feel so weird? Most visions left him in a state of pure panic or at least fear of what was to come. The need to save the victim had always been there. So why isn't it now? Why don't I feel the need to save that girl and her father? He felt… good. And that in itself was enough to make him suspicious. Sam grabbed a towel, wiping his face dry.

Sam walked back to the beds and grabbed a bag of chips off the table, ignoring the nagging in his brain and slight tingle in his back. Maybe I should count my blessings… actually appreciate it when my head doesn't explode with pain when I wake up. But that last vision was still pretty odd. The first one had left him with dread and uncertainty. This one… it was filled with something else. The girl killed by the vampire had felt like it was him who died. This time, he had to watch his daughter die and feel the pain of a father losing his family. Something wasn't right. I should wake Dean. He looked at the bag of chips about to be eaten. He moved over Dean's sleeping form with a devilish grin on his face. Yes, he should wake up.

POP! Dean leaped out of bed, his eyes wide in panic as the bag of chips exploded over his head. He caught Sam's eye, who was laughing so hard he felt his face might crack.

"Dude, that was so wrong." Dean pulled himself up off the floor, wiping chips from his head. Sam flopped onto his bed, grinning. Dean scowled at him for a moment before realizing he was awake.

"Sam, you're awake."

Sam tilted his head, grinning. "Yes, Dean. I am awake."

"No, I mean you're awake-awake. Like okay-awake! Did you have another? Another… vision thingy?" Dean walked to his brother and grabbed his head in his hands, studying his face for signs of pain.

Sam pulled away. "Well… it… it wasn't exactly like last time."

"What do you mean it wasn't exactly like last time? Dude, last time you were left with a hole in your chest. I'd say that gives me a reason to be worried."

"I know, but this time I wasn't…" Sam bowed his head, sighing. I knew it was too good to be true. The damn headache was making its appearance.

"What Sam? Stabbed? Dead?"

"No, I wasn't alone. I… he had a daughter. They were hunting together." Sam was finding it hard to piece it together. This was getting weirder by the minute. The first oneI could remember in detail. Why did the second one break apart the second I think about it? Sam shivered. And who the hell turned down the temperature in the room?

"And did they die?" Dean kneeled in front of his brother, the panic beginning to build in his chest as he watched Sam struggled with the memory.

"Yeah… I… it was a Gelu… Gelu-cr… A weird something." Sam started rubbing his arms, trying to gather a bit of heat.

"Dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little sore. My arms must have fallen asleep… pins and needles."

"Okay, but what did you see? Last time you nearly died because of your shinning shit and I need to know what to-"

"Dean!" Sam's head snapped up, his eyes wide in horror. He looked back down at his hands. They were shaking and turning white, but what scared Sammy more was that they had gone completely numb. The tremors climbed up his arms, quickly followed by the paling skin.

"Dean, I can't feel…" Sam looked into Dean's eyes, dread setting in as his head began to jerk. Dean grabbed his shoulders, but pulled away instantly, pain grasping his fingers.

"Dude, you're freezing!" Dean began to panic. What the hell is going on? Getting an idea, Dean seized a pillow and used it to push his brother flat onto the bed. Sam continued seizing, thrashing all over the bed. He watched as Sam's breath became visible and crystals formed under his eyes.

"God damn it Sam, not again!" Dean stood, watching the shivers wracked his brother's body.

Sorry, but I had to leave it as a cliff hanger... it's the evil part of me.

The demon's names are made up, but I did do some research to make it a bit more real. The 11 Holy spices of Israel do exist, although I've never found them being put into bullets. :) And Gelu-cruor is latin and roughly translates into "cold blood".

The next two chapters will be up in a day or two, depending how busy I am. Please review! They really do help!