Sam sighed, realizing that now probably wasn't the best time for this talk. "Dean…I'm sorry—" he started to say, and then stopped as he happened to glance over at the wall. It had stopped moving and the blood wasn't dripping anymore. The entire room was totally silent...like the calm before a storm. "Dean, something's wrong." he said urgently.
"What?"
Before Sam could respond a force of some kind flung him into the air like a rag doll. He slammed into the wall on the opposite side of the room and was knocked unconscious—right in the pool of blood under the widening black space on the wall.
Several minutes later…
"Sam!" Dean yelled for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Sammy! What's happening? Answer me, Sam!"
No answer.
"Damn it!" he growled and slammed his fist off the wall. He needed a new plan.
At that moment the fire alarm went off, its painfully loud siren mirroring Dean's panic to reach his brother. Doors all around him opened and people stepped out into the hallway in confusion. A middle aged man walked over to Dean, "Hey man, what's going on?"
"There's a fire in the basement!" Dean yelled loudly to him over the alarm. "Get everyone out of here!"
The man nodded and then turned around and started shouting warnings to people and knocking on doors that were still closed to get everyone up.
As people proceeded to run downstairs, Dean stayed exactly where he was, staring blankly at the wall. Sam had been right, of course; there really was nothing he could do. He had no idea what they were fighting and no time or resources to figure it out. He had failed. Again.
Meanwhile…
Drip
Drip
Drip
Sam groaned. His eyes fluttered but remained closed. What was going on? He struggled to remember where he was but his head was spinning and he felt like he was going to throw up.
Drip
What was that? Something was dripping all over him. He groaned again, and realized that he was lying in something hot and sticky. Hot and sticky? And then he remembered where he was. His eyes snapped open and focused on the charred, pulsating wall above him…it had expanded, and now covered the entire room.
Drip
Drip
Drip
Blood was dripping…off the ceiling, off the wall—all over every inch of his body. He was lying in a pool of it.
Sam climbed shakily to his feet, one hand holding onto his head as though that would keep the world from spinning. Thoughts all jumbled together in his mind. Probably have a concussion...who knows how long I've been out…Dean's probably worried sick… "De—?" he murmured, trying not to pass out again. He licked his lips and tried again, "Dean?"
No answer. Sam leaned a hand against the wall to steady himself for a few seconds but it instantly burned his skin. He let go with a gasp of pain.
Something grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
Sam's eyes widened and he turned around. An ugly, white, bloodstained hand was gripping onto his arm, its' nails cutting deep into his flesh.
The hand was coming out of the wall.
Shocked, Sam grabbed onto it and tried to force it to let go, but it had a death grip on him and wouldn't budge. He was trapped. "Dean?!" he yelled loudly, completely awake now. "Dean!"
A few seconds of silence went by and then, "Sam!" he heard Dean yell back.
"I'm having serious problems in here, Dean!" he shouted, continuing to try to pry the hand open and failing.
"What? What's going on? I've been yelling for you for the last five minutes!"
"I was unconscious, okay?" Sam said. He opened his mouth to say more, but the hand suddenly jerked back toward the wall, dragging Sam with it. "Oh hell—" he whispered as he realized what was happening. His eyes frantically searched for something to grab onto. "Dean, something's pulling me into the wall!"
"What?? What does it look like?!"
Sam managed to grab onto the windowsill with his free hand, "I don't know! All I can see is its' hand, but I'm guessing it's not friendly!" The hand pulled harder, and Sam lost his momentary grip on the ledge. "Dean!" he shouted helplessly as the hand tugged harder.
Sam's feet didn't have much traction on the bloody floor, and he slipped. Seeming to sense his disadvantage, the thing dragged him into the wall up to his elbow. Sam screamed in agony.
It felt like his arm was on fire—like he was being burned alive.
Sorry this chapter was a little short, but I had to end it there for the next chapter to work out the way I want it to!