Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Special Thanks: Thank you everyone who reviewed, the number has been slowly but surely going up! To everyone who was interested in the history of the werewolf, here it is; and to everyone who wanted to know what the creepy old lad y wants with Sam you will be sorely disappointed. Sorry. Enjoy!

When it first began and I would wake up in the morning more tired than when I went to bed, I brushed off my concern. My bed was uncomfortable, I missed my ex-girlfriend too much, the room was too hot, or the room was too cold.

Then when I started waking up with dirt under my chipped and cracked nails and stuff in my teeth I thought maybe I was sleepwalking and … I don't know … digging in the potted plants in my apartment or something.

I was distraught when I read in the newspaper that my ex-girlfriend, an avid camper, had been attacked and killed by a wolf one night. I couldn't sleep for days after that.

Eventually I found the will to move on and I could sleep once again, albeit with horrific nightmares of what I assumed was Krystal's death.

Then the night came when I woke up and found myself and my bed covered in blood, too much blood to be from just a cut. But I couldn't seem to find any cuts on me. Then the headlines read that there had been a murder, of a young, brunette, just like Krystal, a block away from my apartment.

That left me without any doubts. I don't know how I was killing these people or why, but I knew that it was me.

I had grown up in a family that hadn't seen any need of the police. If there was a problem, we took care of it ourselves. We could handle our own tumultuous lives without the help of a stranger. So I did the only thing someone who grew up like that could do.

I ran.

I dropped everything I owned. I left my apartment key. I left my job and security. I left my friends and my family.

I needed to get away. I needed to think about what was going on. What I had been doing at night without even knowing it?

I ran for so long, switching cars when they ran out of gas, hitchhiking, or catching a bus. I didn't care where I was going. I didn't even know if I was going anywhere. But then, anywhere would be better than back there.

Finally, I got to somewhere I thought I could live for a while, for my whole life if it came down to it. It was thick forest that went on for miles. I knew that I could go for years without running into another human and that was fine with me.

In hindsight I should have kept running.

It took only a day for the ugly old hag to find me in the massive forest. I woke up one morning with my foot in a bear trap and her leering down at me, her blind white eyes looking me over, and her putrid breath infecting my breathing space. She cooed to me softly and petted my head like I was a damn dog.

Once the old hag had released me from the bear trap and I had woken up after passing out from the pain, I found myself chained to a pole by the neck under a tiny lean – to.

The old hag, there really was no other name that suited her, would come out every afternoon with a bowl of raw, sometimes moldering meat of unknown origins. At first I would refuse to eat that disgusting pile of filth, I mean, I eat rare steak, but there's a huge difference between rare and raw.

When I didn't eat she would speak to me like we were best friends. "Kyle," somehow knowing my name, she would say, "You should eat." Or "Kyle, you need to keep up your strength."

Then came the day I finally gave into my hunger and ate the whole bowl of rotting meat, gagging as it went down. After that, she would start whispering to me like a lover, "Kyle, I have such big plans for us, dear," or "my darling," or "my love." My love. What a load. Somehow I doubted there had ever been anyone who had ever loved such an ugly old hag. Maybe that's why she lived in the middle of God – knows – where.

Once a month, I would wake up hungry, exhausted, but most of all, furious. It was like I had been denied something. Eventually, I accepted my situation. Maybe this was my punishment for killing Krystal and that poor innocent woman who just happened to look like Krystal.

Months passed. Every day the same thing would happen. I would wake up in my little lean – to, eat whatever the old hag brought me, daydream, sleep and repeat.

Eight months had passed since I had come to live for whatever that devious old hag had decided on.

One afternoon, however, everything was going to change. She was in quite the mood, both excited and frustrated. She mumbled to herself about Hunters and then would go on about someone named 'Sam.'

As the evening drew nearer, I decided that I was no longer going to live by her whims. That I would somehow get the hunters to shoot me, and then I could be free from the hag.

~SPN~

The next thing I knew, I was standing next to a young man, he couldn't have been older than twenty, holding a gun and staring down at a body. As I neared, I realized that it was my body. But, no, that's not possible…

I continued to stare in horror and slowly noticed that my body had long claws and sharp teeth. The boy sprinkled something white on my body and when another man came over, they tossed a match on my body.

As my soul dissipated into the air, I felt nothing but joy.

I was free from the old hag.

A/N:

1) Thanks AlElizabeth for editing

2) I felt bad for Kyle in this

3) Next chapter: what's freaky old blind woman want with Sam?