"Whatever the hell this is, we ain't in no way prepared to take it on," growled Bobby. "Not anymore." The trio stepped farther into the house, grimacing with each crunch and squelch under their collective boots.
"And if this can happen here then no hunters are safe," muttered Sam.
Dean shuddered. "No, no one is safe. Hunters are just like its…dessert."
Sam and Bobby stared at him oddly.
"I s-s-smell sulfur. Brimstone. B-b-but more. Something more acrid. Something worse." Without warning, Dean's eyes lost their focus; he began to cough and choke.
Sam and Bobby dragged him from the house.
