Chapter Seven - Hell House

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"Do you think Sam and Dean hate us?" Black-eyed Meredith sneered, standing in the corner of the motel room the Winchesters had set up camp in - just outside Jefferson City, Missouri

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"Do you think Sam and Dean hate us?" Black-eyed Meredith sneered, standing in the corner of the motel room the Winchesters had set up camp in - just outside Jefferson City, Missouri.

Real Meredith sat up against the headboard of one of the beds, staring at the TV ahead of her, which played an old black and white movie. Her skin glistened with sweat, small reflections of the screen that was the only source of illumination. "They hate you, not me." She answered, then looked at Sam, who slept soundly beside her on the queen sized bed. Waking him would make her feel bad, since he had been up for nearly 24 hours taking care of her during the car ride and settling into the motel. In the other bed slept Dean, who was snoring quite loudly. Real Meredith looked to her hallucination.

Black-eyed Meredith held her hands up in defense. "I was just wondering, no need to be a bitch. What's gotten into you? I thought we were friends."

"What does that even mean?" Meredith asked herself, making sure to keep her volume hushed. "We're the same person."

"It means we had fun when you were all juiced up on demon blood. It made us feel powerful, like nothing could stop us. Because nothing could stop us." Fake Meredith folded her arms over her waist and approached the foot of the bed, blocking the TV.

Facing hallucinations was rather annoying in that moment, instead of fear inducing. Real Meredith rolled her eyes. "It wasn't fun." She confessed. "I was miserable. I hurt people." Not wanting to stay awake for much longer without her brothers, the woman scooted forward on the bed and laid down beside her twin. Her body trembled beneath her sweatshirt from the chills she had started to experience not too long before fake Meredith showed up.

Meredith laid rather uncomfortably on her back, staring up on the ceiling. For a few minutes, she tossed and she turned, but that only seemed to make her feel worse. Her throat had dried up pretty significantly, and her insides felt like they were beginning to heat up. Meredith stood up from the bed and took off her sweatshirt, leaving her in one of Dean's band t-shirts. Still shaking, the woman made her way over to the kitchenette's sink.

Water. She needed water. Hoping to relieve her throat and heated insides, Meredith reached for the faucet handles and turned it on. Water pooled into the glass she had on the counter beside the sink, and without turning off the faucet she brought the cup to her lips and chugged.

It wasn't enough. Holding the cup under the running water once more, Meredith filled it up and took a step back from the counter so she could drink. In the light from the TV, a rather unsettling sight occurred. Black veins began to appear just beneath the skin of Meredith's arms. Startled, she dropped the glass of water. It shattered, shooting shards of glass in all directions and letting the water flow freely across the tiled section of the floor.

Dean woke up as soon as the glass had made contact with the floor, and immediately pushed himself to stand up off of the bed. On the floor near the cabinets laid his little sister, who - from where he stood - appeared to tremor aggressively. The TV turned to static, and the lamps flickered on and off. Deciding not to wake his brother just yet, the man rushed over to where Meredith was and crouched down at her side.

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