Fatal (Winchester Sister 2)

Let The Games Begin

TRIGGER NOTICE: throughout there's brief mentions of suicide, depression, and anxiety. This goes for this chapter and the next.

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It's been a long few weeks, I'll give you that much. It's nice being on my own but I never realized how much I needed to hear their banter or the classic rock playing constantly on the radio. They've been calling every now and then but lately it's been less frequent. From Little Rock, I caught a bus that happened to land in South Dakota, only a small three hour walk to Uncle Bobby's.

But right now, I was hungry. The town didn't have much to offer. It was mostly a ghost town filled with drunks that were walking to and from local bars. Where I sat down for a meal was a small diner, the ground around it flooded as it had been raining for the past few hours.

The waitress came over to me after I sat down. "What can I get you, honey?"

I looked around at the people occupying the small diner. The lights inside reflecting off the rain that ran down the window. "Just, uh... Just a hot chocolate, please."

"You got it."

That's when wind blew through the open doors and everything went black.

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The breeze was cold, or maybe it was the wet rotting wood that was beneath me. I don't know. All I got out of it was that it was freezing. It was like a ghost town. I know I used that phrase to describe wherever I was before but this was worse. The buildings looked like they haven't been touched in decades. The ramshackle stores, hotels, and bars lined the dusty streets; all vaguely familiar to me. But where the hell am I on this godforsaken planet?

I want my brothers.

"Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time!"

"Dude, I'm the one whose gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions."

Dean handed over some money to his little brother with a large grin. The diner was flooded around the outside, the rain taking its toll on the dirt, drowning any life that made its home here.

"Hey!" Dean yelled as he began to walk away. "See if they got any pie!"

Sam rolled his eyes and kept walking.

"I love me some pie." Before Sam reached the door, he peered in the glass window along the door. The people inside lay across the tables, blood dripping onto the floor from their throats. He took a deep breath before checking over the counter. The brunette waitress laid still with her arm under her head.

He made his way behind the counter, into the kitchen. Everyone behind there had the same fate. Coming back out, he saw the unmistakable navy calico backpack and duffle bags sitting under a stool. Emerson, was the first thing that came to his mind. Sam grabbed the bags and ran back out to the Impala, noting the stench of sulfur.

"Dude, where's the pie?" Dean asked, mortified.

Sam held up the two items in his hands. "She was here."

"That didn't answer my question."

"Everyone in there is dead, Dean!"

Dean's posture turned rigid, "is she in there?"

"No."

"Did you look properly?!"