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Fire.
It took away his mother and girlfriend.
It burns within his body and consumes his soul.
It rages in the Demon’s eyes and haunts nightmares that he and his brother will soon be chasing down.
It flickers unsteadily in the hearth, warming bodies that will remain cold and dead for the rest of eternity, yet will still move and still kill and never, ever succumb to the sands of time.
It courses through his veins, fueling his muscles as he and his brother run. He hears the barking of dogs. He hears the shouting of the older Hunters as he turns back to watch his brother for the signal. And when it’s given, they skid to a halt and leap upwards into the tree tops of the forest where they’ve lead the Hunters.
“Welcome to the game, boys,” Sam shouts, the Hunters begin to fire. Suddenly, everything is quiet, the Hunter’s eyes widen in fear.
“You thought you could take us?” Dean demands, roaring laughter as the humans below stare at the floating bullets. “Think again, bitches,” he snarls as he and his brother jump down and close in, all fanged smiles and devious glee.
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The dogs are no longer barking.
The older Hunters are no longer shouting orders.
And the Winchester brothers live for another day.
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End.