Shawn snorted himself awake. The first thing he noticed was his head—it hurt like watching Lassiter work. The second thing: he was tied to a chair, along with Dean to his back.

Sam, Henry, Gus, Juliet, and another woman—a jogger—were all standing in front of him. The first four had red eyes, the jogger looked normal.

Maybe the pose she was in struck Shawn as a Maleficent classic. Maybe it was the fact that everybody's eyes were red. However, Shawn automatically knew that it was the jogger, that she was the witch. She was also very beautiful.

"Welcome back to the land of the dead." So Dean was alive.

"Glad to be here. Though I may want a refund if it isn't worth it. It would be nice to live and all."

"Shut up," What Shawn assumed to be the witch spoke.

"Excuse my manners, Miss Witch."

"Shut up Spencer," Dean warned.

"My name is Tabitha. You must be that fake psychic I have heard so much about."

"Tabitha?" Both men asked simultaneously.

They tried to glare at each other. Shawn spoke first, "Dude. That's the clichést witch name ever aside from Maleficent and Esmeralda. Even if Esmeralda's the name of a gipsy."

She shrugged. "It's unique for a witch in these times. Speaking of which, you don't find too many fake psychics in these times either." She snapped her hands. Everybody came forward, encircling Shawn and Dean.

Shawn stared at Gus, who was now two feet in front of him. "Dude! You're totally possessed!"

Dean tried to look at him. "You really don't know anything about this, do you?"

"It doesn't help that I start talking and won't stop when I get nervous. However," He turned his head towards Tabitha, "I wanna talk to you. You aren't possessing them, obviously. Why do you need them? Why haven't you killed us yet?"

"Shut up Psycho-Boy . . ."

She leaned forward. "It's very simple. I was cursed here by my husband after he found out what I was. I hardly ever get any fun anymore. Therefore, I get to play a game whenever anybody enters the cursed forest just because I like games."

"We're all children at heart, aren't we? Do you ever consider picking up a hobby, like knitting, or racketball-"

She slapped him across the face.

"Warned ya." She slapped Dean too.

"I'm gonna play a game with all of you. I give the two of you about…say three minutes. I let your loved ones go wild after that, and it's a lovely game of cats and mouse."

"You mean cats and mice?" Shawn looked up at her.

"Mmmm. No. You don't need to survive, you just need to outrun the other mouse. I figure by the time one of you is out the cave, the other will be rat food. Now," she snapped her fingers, and the ropes that bound the two to the chair fell to the ground, "Let's begin."

Shawn and Dean stood up, looking at Tabitha.

"Run, little mice. Run."

They bolted out the door, back into the darkness of the cavern. Both held onto the walls, running at the same time.

Dean fumbled the flashlight of his back pocket and flicked it on. He got to lead. "We need to help them!"

"Well no gold, Rumplstiltskin! But it's easy if you think about it."

"What? How?!"

"The witch only has control over the forest! If we lead the others out, she won't have control anymore!"

"And if they don't follow?"

They arrived at a fork. "We drag them out. Give me the flashlight."

Dean handed it to him. Shawn shown it over the left post—where he had tied the strip of cloth.

"Left. Leave the strip, we need them to follow us out."

"I'm pretty damn sure somehow she'll lead em' through."

"Trust me—I'm sure. Leave it, they'll follow easier."

"We have like, a minute left. We need to at least be outta here, there're too many tunnels they can sneak through to get in front of us."

"Then follow me."

They started running again, Shawn using his gift to recall which tunnel led out, Dean following without question (for once).

Crack through wall.

Shovel.

Coal pile—almost out.

Pickaxe—out.

Just as they saw the light at the end of the tunnel, a voice boomed, "TIME!"

They reached the end. Shawn grabbed Dean's shirt and yelled into the catacombs, "COME AND GET US, SUCKERS!" He let go of Dean. "Run!"

"What the hell?! It took us two days just to hike up to this place, what makes you think we'll get back there before they find us?!"

Shawn stopped, "Ooh," he shut his eyes, "Crap."

Dean pulled him along. "If we die I'm kickin' your ass in hell. Run as fast as you possibly can, mouse."

After five minutes of woods, they heard the first scream. Not even that exactly, it was a predator's scream of anger and excitement for the hunt. It was Juliet's scream.

"Juliet!?"

"Shut UP!"


They never stopped. The thought of what would—or could—be done to their bodies was enough adrenalin to keep moving. Shawn didn't even run zig-zags, just to make it easier for the others to follow.

Dean stopped Shawn as they broke into the clearing. Both eyes met the ones of Lassiter. He scoffed. "I thought you weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow."

Shawn bent down, gasping. "Ye-yeah. Wuh-we were. Change of plans. We got to the mine, here's your proof it was murder."

The four stepped slowly out of the shade of the trees.

"Holy crap, they're in sync too."

"Spencer, what's going on here?" All of them took a step backward, Shawn and Dean joining Lassey's side.

"They're drugged," Dean lied, "or hypnotized. We all split up in the mines. Wait," he looked at Lassiter, "why are you here?"

"Unfinished business with the evidence." He put his hand on the pistol in his jacket. "Juliet?"

She pulled her lip back, showing teeth, growling.

They all took another step back. Shawn looked at Gus and Henry. "Gus? Dad?"

They both glared.

Dean looked at Sam. "Sammy?"

He took a step forward, eyes flashing red. The rest followed in perfect sync.

Without taking his eyes off the zombies, Lassiter asked, "Why are their eyes red?"

"You wouldn't believe that they're under a witch's spell, would you?" Shawn asked.

"Not on our lives. Should we run, or would my gun-"

"Don't shoot!" Both men said.

That triggered the attack. The predators broke back out into a run; the prey ran for their lives.


Finally, FINALLY, Shawn saw the cars. "We're almost there! Almost there!" He turned his head as the other two ran past him, to their safety, "HEY! I'M RIGHT HERE! BETCHA CAN'T EVEN GET ME FROM HERE!"

Shawn stood there, waiting at the tree line.

"Spencer, what are you doing?"

"Psycho, you're going to get your ass whipped in there!"

"I know what I'm doing! Trust me!"

They all came in sync, once again.

"Seriously? All of you—you're all in sync?"

They charged at him.

"Spencer! Get outta there!"

"COME ON!" He stood until the very last minute as they all tackled him . . .

To the outside of the forest.