Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Fourteen

I was sitting in my motel room, thinking.

It was the middle of the night. We'd left Becky's house after the sandwiches and beer were delivered, and the rest of them had sat around talking about Sam's days in college for a while. The few times I tried to join the conversation, I'd gotten nothing but pure annoyance from Becky, so I stopped trying, just hung around until they decided they were done and we drove back to the motel. I still couldn't fathom what I possibly did to make her so upset at me, but I figured it didn't really matter. Soon enough, we'd be out of there, and I wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.

When I got back to the motel, I'd taken a shower and gotten ready for bed, but I couldn't fall asleep. Not so much that I wasn't able to, I just didn't even want to attempt it. I didn't want to have another nightmare. Which meant I was going to be more or less staying awake all night. Yay.

I'd opted for the desk a little while before, doing something I hadn't done in a really long time — drawing. Well, it was more like sketching, with how out of practice I was, but it wasn't too awful. Eventually, though, I got tired of that, too.

Sighing, I got to my feet, putting it with the little stack of papers in my bag. Something I'd learned from my many other nights of not wanting to sleep — or not being able to — was that if I never stopped moving, I never got tired. And fresh air helped with that, so I decided to take a little walk.

When I opened the door to my room, the first thing I felt was the cool night air, but the first thing I saw was Sam leaning against a pillar.

He looked up when he heard me, smiling softly. "Hey."

I looked at him, a little confused. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

Giving a small laugh, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing. Couldn't sleep?"

I shrugged, going over to lean on another pillar next to him. "Didn't really want to. Tired of the nightmares."

He nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath of the fresh air. "What about you?"

Suddenly, I felt something cool and sharp press against the front of my neck, and he grabbed my shoulder. "Waiting for you to let your guard down, sweetheart."

My eyes widened, and I mentally kicked myself. "You're the shapeshifter."

"Mmm, smart," he— it murmured in my ear, and the fact that it was still Sam's voice messed with my head. "Now, you're going to do exactly what I tell you, or I'll kill you, and your friends, while I'm at it."

Quickly, I assessed my options. Listen to it, possibly get myself tortured, and almost certainly get myself killed, or try to fight back. But what did I have to fight back with? My gun—

Damn it. My gun was still under my pillow. I'd forgotten to grab it.

"Well? Shall we, then?" it suggested, applying a little more pressure on the knife.

Swallowing carefully, I nodded. "Okay. Okay. Just— just don't hurt them."

"Good choice," it praised, pulling back, only to hit me on the head with something hard, and I blacked out.