Alright guys. I stayed up until 6 in the morning writing this, so . . . Yeah, I'm trying to update, because I'm not going to be near a computer or Netflix for two weeks. So . . . I tried to get something in for you all, and I'm gonna try again before I have to leave, but I'm also going to try to update my other stories on here, so I don't know if that will happen, but I'll do my best. I hope you all enjoy this chapter (: I enjoyed writing it!

I do not own Supernatural.

C-H-A-P-T-E-R

6

Maryse: 10

Dean: 20

A crash brought me from my sleep, and I looked around the room. My eyes landed on the window across the way, and then on the tall figure that stood by it. The window was shattered, and I immediately thought of how much trouble I'd be in if I had done that, but I hadn't. That tall person had.

I looked up at them, my gaze questioning. "Who are-?" I started, but the figure came forward, stopping me by putting a gloved hand over my mouth.

I struggled, my feet and hands flying everywhere. I tried to think of the things Sammy and Dean had taught me, but I couldn't. The person was too big, and I was too small.

I cried out, tears streaming down my face. Fear pumped through my veins, making me feel ice cold, and all I wanted was Daddy or Sammy or Dean. I wanted them to help me.

I kicked backwards, trying so hard to kick the person behind me, but he only laughed. My nose and mouth were covered tightly, and I couldn't find a proper way to bite his hand. Breathing became harder though, and I felt myself start to choke. I didn't understand how I could choke though. I only choked on food or water. What was even happening?

"Hey!" I heard a voice call, and the tears rushed down even more. Dean.

The man's grip loosened on me, and he dropped me on the floor. I scrambled away from him, hiding behind the couch. I heard scuffles and cries of pain, and I hoped that Dean was okay. If he wasn't, then that man would try to hurt me again, or I would have to be alone until Sammy and Daddy got back.

My tears filled my eyes again at the thought of my brother being hurt and having to be alone, and I brought my knees to my chest. My sobs became more harsh with each breath, and I suddenly couldn't breathe properly. The sounds of the scuffle stopped, and I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

I looked up to see Dean, who was watching be with a concerned expression. "It's okay, Tiger," he said, "Just breathe in, and out. Slowly."

I did as he said, and my breathing soon calmed down. I watched as he pulled his phone out, calling 911. He talked into the phone for a few seconds, and then hung up.

"Come on, Tiger, we're getting another place to stay," he said, scooping me up. I pulled myself closer to him by gripping on his t-shirt and cried.

I picked up my duffel bag from the bathroom floor, still careful of where I stepped, even though I'd moved most of the glass into a pile under the sink. Then I made my way back to the main room, placing my duffel back by the door once more.

"Okay," I heard Dean say, "You finished your shower. Now tell us what happened."

I looked up from my duffel bag and walked over to one of the chairs at the small table and sat down. After Dean and Sam had come to the door, and I'd opened it, I'd told them I would explain after I finished my shower. To say that their faces held confused expressions was an understatement. I mean, wouldn't anyone be confused if they came back to their hotel room to see their sister in a towel, holding a loaded gun, seeing a broken lamp, and hear the water still running in the bathroom?

Thankfully, though, I'd been able to convince them to let me finish my shower by promising that I'd explain as soon as I was done. Usually, I would've fought them on it and avoided the option of telling them about the voice I heard so they wouldn't think I was crazy. But there was actual evidence that something had been here with the shattered mirror, cracked TV, and broken lightbulb.

"I heard a voice in the bathroom while I was taking a shower," I started, looking between my two brothers.

Sam looked straight back at me as if he was expecting something. When I gave him a questioning look, he said, "What'd it say?"

I felt myself purse my lips. I didn't want them to know what I'd been thinking about, or what the voice had been referring to. "I, uh . . . I couldn't tell. It was sort of muffled."

"Well, what did it sound like?" Sam asked me from across the table.

"What do you mean?"

"Like was it a man's or a woman's voice? Was it deep or high pitched?" he listed a few questions, like a cop would interview someone.

My eyes caught the broken TV, and I studied it as I answered his questions. "It was masculine; deep, but an average sort of deep, nothing weird." I looked back to Sam. "Can I finish now?"

"Yeah," Sam said, going back to looking at something on his computer.

"So, of course, I looked around the curtain at the bathroom, and there was no one there, but the mirror was shattered."

It was Dean who cut me off this time. "The mirror in the bathroom is shattered?"

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him. "Yes, it's broken, shattered, destroyed. Let me finish my story and then we can go into details." He held his hands up in surrender and then I continued. "So I grabbed a towel and a gun and I came in here to see if anyone was in here. There was no one there, but the lamp was turned over and the TV's screen was cracked." I raised my hands above my head and started french braiding my hair, trying to busy myself so I wouldn't start thinking about what happened too much and freak out.

Sam stood up as I brought my legs up to sit criss-crossed on the chair. "I'll go look around the bathroom," he said, "Maybe there's something weird in there."

I sighed as my hands reached the nape of my neck, and I felt Dean's gaze on me. "You okay?" he asked.

I looked at him. "I'm fine. Not even a scratch."

"No I mean. That thing was in here, and you were alone, Tiger," Dean said, concern clear in his voice. Dean wasn't one for chick flick moments, but it seemed like he was asking for one right now. One that I didn't really want to happen.

"I'm fine, Dean," I said, reaching the end of my braid. Once I finished, I stood up to go over to my duffel and pull out a hair tie. I tied my braid off as Sam came out of the bathroom.

"Nothing in there except the broken mirror," he told us.

"Okay," I said, letting out a breath, "Since we have nothing to go on and everything's fine now, can we just forget about this and focus on the case and finding Dad?"

Dean studied me for a moment, as Sam said, "We think it might be a skinwalker or a black dog. We went to a survivor from an attack in the woods years ago, and he had three claw marks across his chest." I scrunched my eyebrows together at that. Three. Black dogs and skinwalkers had four. "And the video we got from that girl, Hailey, we caught its shadow outside of the tent. It cleared the tent in three frames."

"That's only a fraction of a second," I said, trying to piece together what it could be. Maybe it was a skinwalker or a black dog, and the culprit hadn't gotten a clear shot at the survivor.

"So are we going out to Blackwater Ridge tomorrow to look for this thing?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered, "We're gonna watch out for that Hailey girl too."

I didn't really think it was a good idea to let her go out there in the first place, but I wasn't really in the mood to argue, so I nodded. "I'm going to bed," I said, grabbing a pillow and blanket from the closet and walking over to the couch.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was happily asleep, away from all the weirdness of that night.

"You got room for three more?" Dean asked as the three of us got out of the car,. We started walking over to the obvious search party that consisted of an older man, a young woman, and a teenage boy.

"Wait, you guys wanna come with us?" the woman, who I assumed to be Hailey, asked, placing her hands on her hips. I narrowed my eyes at her attitude-filled stance. She was already annoying me.

"Who are they?" the man asked, and Hailey looked over her shoulder at him.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for search and rescue," she answered spitefully.

I rolled my eyes, giving Sam a questioning look as if to ask if we were really gonna have to put up with this all day. He returned my expression with a knowing look. We were both already irritated. With that, he started walking towards the forest.

"You're rangers?" the man asked, looking at us incredulously.

"Well, she's an intern," Dean said, gesturing towards me. I inwardly grinned, happy that I'd been able to convince them not to let my age and stature get in the way this time. "But yes, we are."

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and Converse?" Hailey questioned.

I looked down at my knockoffs that we'd bought while we stayed at Stanford, then up at her, narrowing my eyes a little. "You're the one with your hair down. Don't think that'll get in the way?"

With that said, I started walking towards where Sam stood, turned around and waiting for us.

"What, you think this is funny? This is dangerous. Her brother could be hurt," the man said.

"Believe me," Dean said, "I know how dangerous it can be."

We then made our way into the forest, walking in a line. The older man made his way to the front, Dean following, then Hailey, then her brother, then me, and then Sam. We stayed like that for awhile, and we all came to know each other's names. The older man was called Roy, and the teenager Ben. I'd already known Hailey's; there wasn't much question on her name, considering she was the only girl, other than myself.

As we walked, Dean and Roy started talking about hunting, and I kept my eyes and ears out for anything that couldn't possibly be hunting us. It wouldn't be too unbelievable if that skinwalker, black dog, or whatever it was, thought it'd found itself an easy meal in a group of hikers.

My attention, though, was brought to Dean and Roy when I heard a scuffle up ahead of me. Dean was giving Roy an incredulous look as the man held Dean's shoulder, the action seemingly threatening.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked.

Roy smirked a little, picking up a stick, and I felt my feet take a few steps forward. But I was quickly stopped by Roy sticking the piece of wood into a bear trap, which promptly broke the long stick. I scrunched my nose up at the thought of a foot being in that. There would be pain, lots of pain.

"Watch where you're going, ranger," Roy said, that same smirk still gracing his usual smug expression.

I looked back at Dean, who glanced over his shoulder at us, saying, "Bear trap." I shook my head a little, beginning to walk again with the rest of the group. This time I walked beside Sam.

I could tell that he was irritated; I could feel it, and I knew why. He was upset that we were here and not looking for Dad. I also knew that he wanted to find that thing that killed Jessica, and I don't know why, but for some reason I felt obligated to talk to him about it.

"We're gonna find it," I said, quietly.

He looked down at me, and I was hit suddenly by a wave of anger. "How do you know we're even going to find Dad?"

I shrugged a little, attempting to calm the foreign emotion. "We know he's alive; he'll contact us when he's ready," I answered.

"Which could be whenever; who knows how long until he'll be ready? I don't even know why we're here. We need to be looking for him."

I looked up at him, and lowered my voice so that Ben couldn't hear us. "Look, I know you're upset about Jessica, but you can't keep being so angry. It's gonna run you ragged." It's gonna run me ragged.

Sam shook his head a little and started to walk away, leaving me to be last in the caravan, fighting the emotion Sam gave off that made me want to act like I had a chip on my shoulder. We continued to walk for awhile until Sam started to slow in front of me. I didn't really pay attention to why until I heard that Hailey girl snapping at Dean.

"…So who are you?" she questioned.

I looked at my eldest brother, silently asking if he wanted us to go on. He nodded at us, and I grimaced a little. Her attitude was aggravating. I mean, I get it, her brother was missing; she was on edge. But we were trying to help her find her brother. The least she could do was act better.

We continued to walk, and it didn't take us much longer to reach Blackwater Ridge, which was completely and utterly silent. It felt like the area was void of wildlife; it was too quiet. There was something big here, and I had a gut feeling it was worse than a skinwalker or black dog.

After we reached the ridge, we all decided to stick together and continued to navigate our way through the brush. It wasn't an hour later that Roy found something, calling Hailey over to see it. We all rushed over, and I stopped short at the sight that was before us.

"Looks like a grizzly," I heard Roy say, and I blinked.

The campsite was destroyed, the tent ripped to shreds, bloodied shreds. Cushions and sleeping bags laid out, stuffing across the dirt. There was blood . . . everywhere. Food was scattered, along with clothes and small devices. And like before, there was a ringing silence that could only be caused by the presence of a predator.

"Tommy!" Hailey started yelling, and I turned on my heel.

"Shhh!" I said, but she continued.

"Tommy!"

It was Sam this time to shush her.

"Tommy!"

Sam ran over to her, letting a "shhh" escape his lips and holding his hand out in a motion that clearly said to calm down.

Hailey looked at him, confused. "Why?"

"Something might still be out there," Sam answered, his eyes trained on the forest in front of him.

I looked around, trying to see anything that might be a clue to where Tommy could be . . . if there was a Tommy left. There was so much blood. I mean, could this all be one person's? And was that one person Tommy?

I shuddered, thinking of what the camping group would've gone through. The fear. The confusion.

My eyes landed on tracks then. Tracks of something being dragged - bodies. I hit Dean's arm and nodded to the tracks. Then we started to follow them. They went just outside of the campsite, and then vanished, as if whatever had done this had just decided to pick the bodies up instead of dragging them.

Definitely not a skinwalker or black dog.

"Sam!" Dean called, and I heard Sam's footsteps through the brush.

He came up behind us and looked down at the tracks. "The bodies were dragged from the campsite," Dean said.

"But then the tracks just stop," I finished, gesturing to the disappearance of the tracks with my hands.

"That's weird," Sam said, and we all stood up.

I shook my head. "Not a skinwalker or black dog," I concluded, looking around, nervous now that we had no idea what we were dealing with. At all. Then I started following Dean back to the camp, Sam behind me.

I was just entering the camp when I heard a strangled call for help. Everyone straightened up, and we looked around. Where had it come from?

"Help!" came a second call, and all of us were suddenly off towards the source. The cry came once more, and we followed it, each of us sprinting.

I dodge tree roots and rocks and low-hanging branches, focusing on where the voice had come from. We were close. I wanted the person to know that, to know that the help they were asking for was coming. We had to help them. If they were with this thing, they'd be dead soon.

When we were sure we'd reached the area that the cry had come from, we all stopped, looking around. Confusion hit me, and I furrowed my eyebrows. The cry came from here; I was sure of it, but there was no one there. The forest floor hadn't even been disturbed, and there was still that silence that hung in the air like a heavy fog.

Something was off here; something was very off.

Suddenly, Sam interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Everybody back to camp."

Following what he said, we all made our way back in a line. I had no idea what Sam thought this was, but I didn't think it'd be pretty; I was actually a little worried.

Once we reached the camp, though, I started to worry even more. Our packs were gone.

I dragged the stick through the dirt, drawing the symbol Dean had shown me earlier. We'd, through Sam, come to the conclusion that we were dealing with a wendigo, which meant that guns and knives were completely useless. We'd have to set the thing on fire somehow, which was tricky, because lighting things up usually meant you had to get close to them.

"One more time," Hailey said, "that's . . ."

"Anasazi symbols," Dean answered, finishing his symbol. I finished my right after and stood up.

"The wendigo can't cross over them," I said, tossing the stick on the ground. Roy laughed, and I rolled my eyes, walking over to Sam and sitting next to him.

"Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy," Dean said, following after me and sitting across from Sam and I. He looked at Sam, his green eyes holding slight irritation. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" he asked Sam.

"And do not say you're fine," I said, staring at him. He didn't look at either of us, only at the forest floor.

"Dad's not here," Sam said. I took in a breath, glancing at Dean. Then I wrapped my arms around myself, my gaze falling back on Sam. "We know that much for sure. He would have left us a message, a sigh, right?" A grimace fell across his lips with each word.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Dean said, "To tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek."

My stomach dropped at his words. I knew Dad hadn't been here; it had become more obvious throughout the day, but still . . . Hearing it from Dean was like it was being confirmed.

"Then let's get these people back to town, hit the road, go find Dad." Sam paused, tossing the stick he was holding on the ground. "I mean why are we staying here?"

I shifted uncomfortably where I sat, not sure how I felt about the situation. I understood where Sam was coming from, I just . . . I knew that we needed to help these people, no matter how annoying they were.

Dean was suddenly holding Dad's journal out to the two of us, patting it twice. "This is why," he said, "This book."

"Guys!"

I looked over to see Hailey struggling along the edge of the campsite. I stood up, and Dean and Sam looked over at Hailey also. "I got it," I said, making my way over to Hailey.

"Sorry," she said when I reached her, "I messed up one of the symbols."

I shrugged and reached for another stick. "It's fine," I said, not annoyed with her for the first time in the past day, "Nothing too hard to fix." I retraced the symbol and heard Hailey walk away back to her brother. After I finished redrawing the symbol, I tossed the stick to the ground once again, and looked out into the brush.

It was probably watching us, waiting for us to let our guards down. And we had so many people that would easily do that, especially if they didn't believe the danger they were in. Like Roy.

I glanced over at him, pursing my lips. He was watching the trees like I had been, as if we could see the wendigo if it went past. It was possible, but highly unlikely.

"Help me!" came a voice, and I shuddered at its desperation. "Please!"

I made my way to the middle of the circle, where everyone else had gone, pulling my gun out of the back of my jeans. We all stood there, listening to the cries for help. It was the wendigo, I knew, but that didn't change the fact that the voice sounded incredibly human, incredibly human and horribly hurt.

"It's trying to draw us out," Dean said, "Just stay cool. Stay put."

I shifted on my feet, telling myself not to run out there. It was the wendigo. Not a person.

The cries soon erupted into growls, horrific growls that made my skin crawl. I held my gun up, even though I knew it wouldn't do the least bit to help me. The growls started to come from everywhere, and the branches on the trees shook, telling us that the beast was close. I silently rejoiced that we'd put down those symbols.

Suddenly, there were gunshots.

I turned on my heel to stare at Roy. What was he doing?! It was only making it more angry!

I clenched my teeth and stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but he suddenly yelled, "I hit it!" Then he took off.

My stomach dropped as I realized what his fate was, and I felt my adrenalin kick in. I needed to stop him.

My legs were running before I could tell them to, and I was dodging branches and logs and roots like before. "Roy!" I shouted, "Roy, stop!" He didn't stop though. He kept running.

I faintly heard my brother's voices behind me, and I saw Roy slow in front of me. This must've been where he hit it, but there was no wendigo. My eyes widened, and I stepped forward to grab his arm, to pull him back and take him back to camp, but long talons darted out, and a blood-curdling scream escaped him. I heard the sickening crunch, and the scream was cut short.

My body began to shake as I realized what was going to happen next. I had no defense, none except my gun and a small pocket knife in my back pocket. I realized the gun was my only hope. As I shakily raised my arms to aim, the gun was knocked out of my hands by those talons, my arms receiving slight scratches. "No!" I cried, backing up. I needed to run. I needed to tell Sam and Dean to go back to camp.

The wendigo came closer, its grey skin reminding me of an elephant's, and I started yelling, "Go back!" but it was cut off by my body being slammed to the earth. A sharp pain erupted in the back of my head, and that was the last thing I remembered.