Winchesters (Supernatural Fanfiction/Genderswap)

Chapter X: Sulfur

George Phelps sat up from having his face in his hands. He felt like throwing up. Oh, god, he felt so sick. He checked his ticket and watch before running to the bathroom.

"Thank you for flying United Britannia Airlines," a woman with a sweet voice said over the intercom.

Phelps leaned over the sink, splashing water on his face. A stranger wearing a clean cut suit and purple tie came out of one of the stalls and washed his hands. "Nervous flyer?" he asked, giving him a kind smile.

"It's that obvious, huh?"

"You know, what are the odds of dying in a plane crash? I mean, what? Twenty thousand to one?"

Phelps watched him go.

Wow. That's so reassuring. Thank you really, he thought. Above his head, a cloud of black particles like floating sand came through a vent, swirling around his head, and entering his eyes. He wanted to scream but it was over before he could fight back.

*

The pilot, Chuck, turned to the flight attendant beside him. She was pretty, he thought. Prettier than the rest of the crew, he knew. Much easier to look at then his co-pilot, John, who he hated.

"Amanda, how are you today?" he asked politely.

"I'm doing just fine, Chuck," she said before turning to a passenger boarding the plane and looking at his ticket, "Welcome aboard. 15C towards the back of the plane, on the right."

"Thank you," the stranger said. He heads towards the back like Amanda had told him to.

"Have a nice flight, sir," she said to another passenger boarding the plane and walking by her. He turned, and she saw that his eyes were completely black, even the whites. It was Phelps.

"Oh, I'm counting on it." he says, smiling wickedly. She blinked a few times, watching him, and shook her head. The black eyes were gone. She turned to look at his ticket. She reads it, still shooken. Was she loosing it? "Um...uh, 11F, that's the middle of the plane, on..." She pointed down the aisle, where his seat was. "...the left." she finished, blinking again.

After about an hour, the plane sets off. "In just a few minutes our flight crew will begin room service in the cabin..." the pilot's voice faded from Phelps' ears. He didn't care. He turned to his seatmate. "Excuse me." he said to the dressed up woman who looked like she was going to be sick. "Do you know how long we've been up?"

The woman checked her silver watch. "About forty minutes," she answered.

"Wow. Time really does fly, huh? Excuse me. I've got to stretch my legs."

Phelps got up, squeezed past the woman, and started towards the back of the plane. When he reached the rear exit, he grasped the release handle. A boy in a close aisle, noticed and jumped up in his seat. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?!"

Phelps turned to look at the boy, eyes black again, then ripped the door wide open. He wen flying out the whole with heart-sinking speed. The door flew off too, tearing half a wing off the plane as it went by. The plane was going down. Amanda, near the middle of the plane, was struggles to get to a seat. The oxygen masks deployed and even with all the passengers panicking, they hurried to get them on. Up front, the pilots already have them on ,trying to balance the plane the best they could. They knew, though, that they weren't gonna make it through this.

*

Deanna was asleep on her stomach, using her arms as extra pillow like she always did. She wasn't wearing anything but a bra and panties since it was so hot last night yet she was still covered from the waist down by the thick blanket. Her blonde hair was spread over her bare shoulders like another cover.