Freaking Witches

Rainbow in the Dark

A/N: I know I said I would have this chapter posted last weekend, but I ended up getting really busy with school. However, to make up for that, this chapter is almost twice as long as they usually are! I hope you enjoy it!

Also, @premieredimension is making audios of this story! She only has chapter one up so far, but she plans on making more for the other chapters! :D So give it a listen if you're interested! Heres the link -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijjbQ3zQuk4&t=202s

That is all, enjoy the chapter!

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When Dean awoke, his throat was dry and scratchy. His whole body ached, muscles stiff and throbbing, tugging unpleasantly when Dean moved. Groaning quietly, Dean rolled onto his back and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hands. His elbows dug into the bed and pressed his torso upwards as a yawn forced its way out of his mouth, jaw popping from the stretch.

Once the yawn passed, Dean nestled back into the inviting mattress, pulling a thick down comforter over his head, hoping to catch a few more hours of sleep before Sam or Cas tried to wake him up. Dean was fully prepared to enjoy the opportunity to sleep in. However, as he nestled deeper into the bed, he felt a sinking, unsettled feeling in his gut. With his eyes still closed and his thought processed fogged by sleep, Dean got the itching feeling of being watched in the otherwise still and silent room. Years of hunting trained him to be a light sleeper to reduce his vulnerability and allow his senses to alert him to potential dangers. Unnerved, Dean pushed the blankets aside and sat up quickly, his eyes already darting around the darkened space, searching for the cause of his restlessness.

The room was dimly lit, but if he squinted, Dean was able to vaguely make out his surroundings. His unease only continued to grow as Dean realized that he was in an unfamiliar, low-furnished room. The large warehouse that he and the others had taken up residence in was gone. Thin unflattering walls had been replaced by solid, wooden ones with shadowy photos scattered across its surface. On his right stood a large window, covered by a thick white curtain, moonlight sneaking past the edges of the heavy fabric. To his left stood what appeared to be a large bookshelf with a plush armchair beside it. The only other furnishing in the room appeared to be a desk, a single wooden chair standing before it. As far as Dean could tell, the room was meant to provide the occupant with a calm, homey atmosphere but Dean was lost and disoriented as he tried to make sense of the settings.

Dean was alone in the room, yet he couldn't shake away the feeling that someone watching him. He slipped a hand underneath his pillow, hoping to find his favorite pearl-handled .45 waiting there for him. However, he wasn't all that surprised when he didn't find his gun waiting for him, nestled beneath the pillow. Dean grimaced in disappointment and moved to set his feet upon the cool wooden floor. Shifting weight onto his feet, Dean stood gingerly, wincing as his body stung with a lingering ache. On shaky legs, he crossed the room and pulled back the curtains to peer outside. The heavy material stiff and cold between his fingers as pushed them aside.

Outside, there was very little to see. Dean squinted through the dark, trying to pinpoint his location based only on the layout of the land. The moon provided him with an inadequate amount of light and cast long shifting shadows upon the ground. He tried in vain to spot something familiar or at least the shadow the thing that was causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Despite his efforts, Dean was unable to find anything that might seem unordinary. As he continued to watch the darkened land, the uneasy feeling began to fade, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. He couldn't explain it, but Dean was sure that whatever had been watching him had left, for now at least. That didn't mean he was going let his guard down anytime soon though.