Capri Coleman was a normal girl, getting ready to graduate college when her life fell apart. Her close friend died in a mysterious fire, she learns that her family's death from years ago might not be what she always thought, and she is thrown into t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sam, the doc, and Pam were in the exam room while I waited in the lobby. My foot tapped against the floor as my fingers danced along the line of stitches on my cheek.
The sound of car engine outside made me stand.
I moved toward the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. I threw myself into Dean's arm before he made it inside.
The Sargent from earlier slipped by and into the office.
"Whoa, hey," Dean chuckled a little. "Miss me?"
I nodded, fingers pressing into the back of his neck as I gripped him tight. "Not a chance in fucking hell I'd ever miss your dumbass."
Dean took a step back as Sam joined us. "What happened?" he asked, fingers brushing along my cheek. His eyes snapped to Sam's. "What the hell happened to her?"
"Did you guys get to a phone?" Sam asked. "Dean, we'll talk about it in a second." He gave a look, eyes flickering to the Sarge.
"Roadblock," Dean said, my jaw still held in his free hand, a gun in the other. "I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside." He nodded to the lobby.
Sarge nodded, walking off out of the hall where we stood.
"What's going on out there, Dean?" Sam asked.
"Man, I don't know. I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man." Dean shrugged. "Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with? You know? And what the fuck happened to you?" He looked t me.
"Yeah, doc thinks it's a virus," Sam answered.
"And I was attacked. Sam saved me." I shrugged. "Scissors."
"That could've taken out your eye." Dean titled my head back, as if to get a better look at the cut. "Damn, I could've stitched you up better than this."
"Don't remind me that it's ugly," I complained.
"So what do you think?" Dean asked.
"I think she's right," Sam said. "And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood to blood contact."
"And you let one of them carve into her face?!"
"No one bled on me," I said.
"And it gets better," Sam continued. "The virus leaves traces of sulfur in the blood."
"A demonic virus?" Dean asked.
"More like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I've been having visions."