Dean Winchester’s eyes opened slowly, and his sluggish mind hurried to catch up. No matter how hard he looked all he could see was white. White and crimson, that was it. Cold. Why I am I so cold? Why am I here? Hunt. I was on a hunt. Did we kill it? Caleb, where’s Caleb? I need to get moving. Can’t stay still got to find Caleb. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get his frozen limbs to comply.
The forest was deadly silent around him. The only noise that could be heard was the snow falling gently onto his broken body. Dean wasn’t sure what scared him more, the fact that he couldn’t move, or the fact that a part of his mind didn’t want to. Caleb will be fine. He knows what he’s doing. God I’m tired. He won’t mind if I take a nap will he? Fifteen minutes is all. No one will notice. It’s kind of warming up. Goodnight Caleb. See you in a few, man. Dean fell into the welcoming embraces of unconsciousness.
Caleb was really starting to worry. It had been close to an hour since that thing had gotten Dean. T was supposed to be a routine hunt. Caleb and Dean were up in North Dakota taking care of something for Bobby. Caleb didn’t blame the older hunter for sending them. If he had a choice, he would get the hell out of this frozen wasteland. Unfortunately there was nothing routine about this hunt. They were after a Skwask. Apparently Bobby, and all the research they could find, failed to mention that Skwasks were about the size of polar bears. Very large, pissed off polar bears.
One minute they are stealthily walking through the woods, bitching about the weather, the next they are being jumped by a Skwask. Dean shot first, and he managed to wound it. Thanks to his Winchester luck, it became really mad at Dean. The Skwask tackled Dean and started doing some damage with its claws. Caleb tries to line up a good shot without hitting Dean but the Skwask kept moving. He managed to get off a couple more shots, but he kept missing the kill zone.
Then the Skwask did the unthinkable; it grabbed an unconscious Dean in its teeth and ran into the forest. Caleb went chasing after it gun drawn. He followed the crimson pathway laid out before him. Crap! That’s blood. That can’t be good? IS it Dean’s? Shit, better not be. If it is, he’s probably bled out by now fuck. Where are you Deuce?
Caleb kept running full speed and barely noticed the large white mound in the snow. His hunter skills kicked into full gear as he approached what he believed to be the Skwask. It didn’t make sense to him. Why is this thing just lying here? Oh hell yes! I think that’s a kill shot. Way to be Deuce! After performing a cursory examination of the scene, Caleb noticed that there was only one body there.
“Dean! Dean can you hear me?” Caleb yelled at the top of his lungs. Secrecy be damned. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping, the snow was picking up, and Dean was bleeding. Caleb needed to find him now. Unfortunately, silence was the only answer to his call.
Hey everybody. This is just an idea I had for another story. It’s going to start off with only Dean and Caleb but I’m going to introduce some other main characters into the later chapters. For some reason I seem to only have a talent for writing pre-series fics. Oh well, this one is set Stanford era so no Sam in sight. Unfortunately I own nothing and never will.