^^ What it says in the titre :)
My body seemed to snap into action, registering quicker than my brain what had just happened. My senses all woke up suddenly and at the same time, and I acknowledged a warm sticky liquid trickling down my face. One side of my face felt like it was on fire, and one of my arms didn’t feel so good, either. Without looking, I moved my feet, legs and arms slightly to check there was no serious damage. I breathed out heavily, fighting back tears.
It began to come back to me, bit par bit, as though in slow motion; the truck, the overwhelming impact, the Impala being thrown off the road and skidding onto grass, one side completely crushed with the force.
I turned my head a little so I could see the majority of the interior of the car, but Dean had been sitting behind me, so the only way to see him was in the mirror. I looked across at Dad; since he had been on the side of the car that the truck had hit, he was obviously in worse shape than I was. I could see one of his arms, hardly noticeably different, but I saw from where I was sitting that it was positioned in an unnatural angle; probably broken. I couldn’t hear him breathing, and panic began to rise up in my throat like vomit. What if they were both...No. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not to either of them. I craned my neck to try and see Dean behind me. What I saw didn’t look good. He was as motionless as Dad, but there was a huge trail of blood down his face and another significant wound bleeding through his shirt, from where the demon had cut him before. It was bleeding slowly but certainly. Again, I couldn’t hear my brother breathing either. In the back of my mind I heard a vehicle door creak and slam shut, but it didn’t get absorbed in my thoughts. The panic I had began feeling a few secondes il y a was spreading, quickly and horribly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was almost consuming me.
“Dad...” my voice sounded rough, and shaky, from the shock, but nevertheless still very usable. “Dean...”
I swallowed and blinked back tears as I heard a figure approach my side of the car. My grip on the poulain, colt instinctively tightened as I felt one tear escape. What if I was the only one left?
An unbearably loud tearing of metal ripped from suivant to me as the car door was ripped off, and a man, I presumed the driver of the truck, stood beside me, his eyes a deep shade of midnight. So it hadn’t been the Yellow Eyed Demon; but still, an uncontrollable urge to kill it rose in my cœur, coeur as I lifted the poulain, colt up slightly to montrer the demon it was there.
“Get back,” I said, hoping it sounded much plus threatening to the demon than it did to me. To me I sounded scared, wounded, and alone. “Or I swear to God...”
“No toi won’t,” the demon replied, before I could finish. “You’re saving that bullet for something else.”
Knowing deep down that the demon was right about the Colt’s last bullet, an overpowering, illogical surge of hate seemed, just for a moment, to tell me different. I cocked the trigger on the poulain, colt and lifted it up even more, so it was aimed at the demon.
“Want to bet?”
The demon looked at me for a seconde and saw that I was serious. Then the man suddenly threw his head back, as black smoke streamed from his mouth and rose into the air. I clicked the safety catch on the gun again and lowered it; there was no point now. My eyes welled up with tears again as the remainder of the smoke left the man’s mouth and hovered in the sky for a second, then quickly moved away and into the night. The man, who had fallen to his knees with the force of the smoke leaving his body, blinked and got up steadily. He took in the scene, and looked at me in the passenger seat, at our wrecked car, then at his truck.
“Oh my God,” he a dit shakily. “Did I do this?”
I turned my head and looked at my Dad and Dean in the mirror once more. The man was no longer important. Neither was the demon. My family were.
“Dad...” I spoke a little louder and desperately than before, the still-growing panic now very evident in my voice as what had happened started to sink in even more. “Dean...”
I closed my eyes, fought back plus tears, and yelled as loudly as I could, as if a higher volume would get a response from my motionless brother in the back seat. “Dean!”
My body seemed to snap into action, registering quicker than my brain what had just happened. My senses all woke up suddenly and at the same time, and I acknowledged a warm sticky liquid trickling down my face. One side of my face felt like it was on fire, and one of my arms didn’t feel so good, either. Without looking, I moved my feet, legs and arms slightly to check there was no serious damage. I breathed out heavily, fighting back tears.
It began to come back to me, bit par bit, as though in slow motion; the truck, the overwhelming impact, the Impala being thrown off the road and skidding onto grass, one side completely crushed with the force.
I turned my head a little so I could see the majority of the interior of the car, but Dean had been sitting behind me, so the only way to see him was in the mirror. I looked across at Dad; since he had been on the side of the car that the truck had hit, he was obviously in worse shape than I was. I could see one of his arms, hardly noticeably different, but I saw from where I was sitting that it was positioned in an unnatural angle; probably broken. I couldn’t hear him breathing, and panic began to rise up in my throat like vomit. What if they were both...No. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not to either of them. I craned my neck to try and see Dean behind me. What I saw didn’t look good. He was as motionless as Dad, but there was a huge trail of blood down his face and another significant wound bleeding through his shirt, from where the demon had cut him before. It was bleeding slowly but certainly. Again, I couldn’t hear my brother breathing either. In the back of my mind I heard a vehicle door creak and slam shut, but it didn’t get absorbed in my thoughts. The panic I had began feeling a few secondes il y a was spreading, quickly and horribly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was almost consuming me.
“Dad...” my voice sounded rough, and shaky, from the shock, but nevertheless still very usable. “Dean...”
I swallowed and blinked back tears as I heard a figure approach my side of the car. My grip on the poulain, colt instinctively tightened as I felt one tear escape. What if I was the only one left?
An unbearably loud tearing of metal ripped from suivant to me as the car door was ripped off, and a man, I presumed the driver of the truck, stood beside me, his eyes a deep shade of midnight. So it hadn’t been the Yellow Eyed Demon; but still, an uncontrollable urge to kill it rose in my cœur, coeur as I lifted the poulain, colt up slightly to montrer the demon it was there.
“Get back,” I said, hoping it sounded much plus threatening to the demon than it did to me. To me I sounded scared, wounded, and alone. “Or I swear to God...”
“No toi won’t,” the demon replied, before I could finish. “You’re saving that bullet for something else.”
Knowing deep down that the demon was right about the Colt’s last bullet, an overpowering, illogical surge of hate seemed, just for a moment, to tell me different. I cocked the trigger on the poulain, colt and lifted it up even more, so it was aimed at the demon.
“Want to bet?”
The demon looked at me for a seconde and saw that I was serious. Then the man suddenly threw his head back, as black smoke streamed from his mouth and rose into the air. I clicked the safety catch on the gun again and lowered it; there was no point now. My eyes welled up with tears again as the remainder of the smoke left the man’s mouth and hovered in the sky for a second, then quickly moved away and into the night. The man, who had fallen to his knees with the force of the smoke leaving his body, blinked and got up steadily. He took in the scene, and looked at me in the passenger seat, at our wrecked car, then at his truck.
“Oh my God,” he a dit shakily. “Did I do this?”
I turned my head and looked at my Dad and Dean in the mirror once more. The man was no longer important. Neither was the demon. My family were.
“Dad...” I spoke a little louder and desperately than before, the still-growing panic now very evident in my voice as what had happened started to sink in even more. “Dean...”
I closed my eyes, fought back plus tears, and yelled as loudly as I could, as if a higher volume would get a response from my motionless brother in the back seat. “Dean!”
