Disclaimer: No. Non. Nein. Geen. Não. Ingen.

A/N: Alright... this one shot... I really, really want to know what you think, so I hope you will review. But, I guess I'll put in a warning... this thing can be seen as a death fic. Actually this one shot can be viewed two ways... depends on how you look at it. That's the main reason I want you to review. I'm still not sure if I like this one shot-- I'll know after I get a response to it. But please, do read it through-- even if you don't like death fics, this thing can be viewed either way-- depending on how you take the ending. Lemme know how you took the ending and if you enjoyed this one shot-- it's pretty risky... I'm very weiry about it...

Title: To the Count of Five
Genre: Mainly it's angsty... and pretty suspessful.
Summary: Ok... so Sam and Dean go hunting in a supposidly haunted house... where they learn that some legends really do come true...

To the Count of Five

"Hey Dean?" Sam spoke quietly as they made their way up the winding, creaking wooden staircase.

"Yeah?" Dean breathed deep, his shot gun clutched in his hand and poised towards the stairs they were climbing.

Sam held his own silver bullet loaded pistol in his hand as he spoke, "Remember that legend Dad used to tell us when were little? The one with the counting…"

"Dude we're in the middle of a hunt," Dean's voice was quiet as he got to the top of the stairs and panned his flashlight down the endless dark hall, "What made you think of that?"

"Because we were in a house like this when he told it to me," Sam crept slowly; a pace behind his older brother, "It was a tale about a girl that was playing hide and seek in a house."

"I remember," Dean's breath came in white puffs as the temperature dropped inside the old house, "She was counting, but before she got to five, she was--"

Dean shone the flashlight onto his face for a dramatic effect.

"Killed."

"Nice Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "I think Dad just told it so that we wouldn't wander off from him. It scared the crap out of me though."

"Not hard to do Sammy," Dean joked working his way down the hall.

One.

"Dean this is the third floor of this place," Sam looked back around to where they'd come up the stairs to make sure nothing was following them, "Maybe the thing left."

"Sam how many times have you known a poltergeist to just leave?" Dean frowned opening up a door to their right.

"Yeah," Sam stepped beside his brother in the door frame and panned his flashlight into the room.

It was a children's room with a small bed still sitting at the far end, and half fallen bookshelves hanging from the wall. Dean took a hesitant step inside, Sam following behind; something about the room caused the younger brother's heart to beat faster. A cold breeze washed over them suddenly as something ran quickly down the hall and both hunters swiveled around.

Two.

"What was that?" Sam's voice shone with fear.

"Still think it just left Sammy?" Dean muttered stepping out into the hall and panning his flashlight both ways.

Nothing.

"You have the EMF on you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean held his flashlight between his teeth for a moment as he dug into his pocket, pulling out the well used detector.

Sam turned off his flashlight, shoved it in his pocket, and took the EMF from Dean. Turning it on, the younger Winchester panned around; not even a low hum came out.

"I definitely saw something run down the hall out of the corner of my eye," Sam spoke.

"So did I," Dean confirmed, "Come on, lets keep going."

Three.

"What?" Sam stopped, "Dean, I vote we just go back."

"Sam, we have our guns," Dean insisted, "We'll be fine. We have to get this evil son of a bitch before it kills any more people. It's our job."

Sam was going to respond bitterly, but decided against starting an argument in the middle of a haunted house. The hallway was long and narrow with random doors scattered on either side. Dean randomly tried more doors to find they were all locked. The darkness got thicker the further they went.

"Dean--" Sam's voice broke through the silence.

Something wasn't right.

"Sam, don't worry about it," Dean turned around to face his little brother, "If you're still worried about the legend Dad told us, I can tell you it wasn't true. He told it to me when I was little too-- he just did it so that we'd be more careful. More alert."

"It's working," Sam muttered following Dean's continued trek down the hall.

It was the last door on their left that finally worked and opened up with an ominous creak. The room was pitch black, and the light from the older brother's flashlight seemed to be eaten up by the consuming darkness.

"Come on Sam," Dean didn't want to leave his brother out in the hall without a light.

Sam stepped inside the room and attempted to look around. Dean's flashlight panned around, barely illuminating the walls. A tall mirror stood in one corner, a dresser with glass details on it sat against the adjacent wall. A large queen sized bed sat right next to the door and a walk-in closet was on the wall to their left. Finally Dean's flashlight caught the far corner of the room.

"Dean," Sam breathed out, the EMF meter suddenly beeping a loud, shrill noise.

The flashlight shone on the back of a girl wearing a long, white and bloodstained dress. She faced the corner of the wall, her dark brown hair falling down her back in messy bunches as her gray arms hung limply at either side. The door behind them slammed shut causing both Sam and Dean to jump.

Four.

"Sam!" Dean cried out as his flashlight suddenly went out, sending their world into darkness.

"Dean!" Sam's voice was just as panicked, "Dean, what the hell is going on?!"

"I don't know," Dean's voice shook, "But try and get to the door. We have to get out of here right now."

"No kidding," Sam took one step towards where the door was before he was ripped backwards and flung against the wall; smashing into the mirror, "Arggg!"

"Sammy!" Dean called out.

"Dean," Sam's voice was laced with pain, "Dean, I'm hurt!"

Dean's heart thumped as a child's laugh suddenly echoed through the room, "Sam, where are you?"

"I'm at the far wall," Sam groaned out as he attempted get up.

A loud smash pierced the air and Dean felt shards of glass fly at him as the large dresser was flung to the ground. Pain radiated through his body as the glass stung every inch of his bare skin, though the only thing he cared about was getting to his brother.

"Sammy!" Dean called out again.

"Dean!"

"Sammy, I'm coming, I--" Dean was suddenly tossed like a rag doll across the room and landed with a thickening thud against the door to the closet; the splintering wood jabbing painfully into his back.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, hearing the noise.

"Sammy, get out of here!" Dean yelled out, loud smashing mixed in with child's laughter filling the room.

"Dean!!" Sam's scream for help barely penetrated the noise.

"Sammy, run!!"

Then there was silence.

Five.

The End.