[0] Dream of me, dream of dread

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WHEN HIS VISIONS BECOME BURDENS, WHEN THEY HAD CRIPPLED HIM SO, TO BELIEVE HIS WORST FEARS WOULD SOON TURN TO REALITY, HE HAD SEEN HER. SHE HAD BEEN THE MOON, THE STARS AND ALL THE REFULGENCE THE DARKNESS WITHIN HIM DESIRED TO SEE.

He wasn't a dreamer, he was simply cursed to live some of his existence through them. Whether it was daydreaming about getting out of the family business or the true dreams that haunted him in the hours of the night. That plagued his soul. He had grown despondent about dreams, when his and their reality was so shattered.

He had seen her again after much time had passed. He was seeing her again. It was all such a quick flash.

The woman a vision of white, against the darkness of the dense forests she was running through.

Blood coated her pale hands as they shook, the light from the window illuminating only them, leaving her in the dark, helplessly next to the bodies on the floor.

A road. A sign. A stop.

The same statue as always.

A cry for help as hand reached out to help her but as flesh came to grip his own, it felt like claws had struck him, the darkness had sunk him in once more as the clock struck the midnight hour. As the sands of time ran through;

Sam Winchester woke up with a jolt and immediately turned to wake his brother.

"Dean. We gotta' go"

DREAM GIRL ─── S. Winchester Where stories live. Discover now