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“And you? You’re a stranger.” There’s a voice whispering danger, danger as you look at Dean, at your “grandson” stuck in his cell. But you don’t heed it. “No, really, tell me. What exactly are you supposed to be to me?”
“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the guy you never wanna see again.”
The voice that had once been whispering is now screaming and you suddenly remember the rumors—
“Because I’ll make it out of here, trust me.”
—the horror stories that other Hunters reluctantly whispered to you over their whiskey.
“The next time you see me, I’ll be there to kill you.”
And you fight against your sudden fear as you realize that there was an absolute truth in those stories. So you stared into Dean’s eyes and promised him (and yourself): “Don’t think there’s gonna be a next time.”
“Whatever gets you through the night,” and there’s no hesitation – just a steadfastness that shakes you even more and you’re suddenly more terrified than ever before. So you close the door on your grandson – on the eyes filled with cold rage and hate and the threat of a long and painful death.
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End