❝ INCOMPLETE! ❞ → SPN ✓

NINE.

"Like you said," Dean shook his head, his smirk dark and ruthless, "See you in Hell."

He whipped out some sort of knife from the back of his trousers and brought the blade forwards, aimed for Sage's abdomen.

Unexpectedly, black smoke - none other than Ophelia - expelled from Sage's mouth in an angry, coursing river. The girl screamed (just like when Ophelia had left her back in the woods), throwing her aching head back. She felt like she was throwing up, the smoke wouldn't stop coming out, it was like there was an endless supply just loitering in her lungs. It - Ophelia - ended up circling around the room, before sulking and exiting through the roof, irritated like a hormone-induced teenager.

In the heat of the moment, Dean Winchester was so caught up by sending the black-eyed bitch back to hell, that he lost control of his actions. The knife continued to slice through the air, impaling Sage's stomach and causing a sharp gasp to escape her mouth. Dean didn't even realise; perhaps that's what Ophelia wanted all along.

"You didn't complete the freakin' circle!" Dean spun around, annoyance blazing in his eyes. "How could you not complete the stupid circle?!"

Sam threw his hands up in surrender, "It wasn't my fault! I never draw a crappy Devil's Trap! There must have been something that disturbed it..."

The two spent their next few minutes inspecting the room for anything that could have affected the outcome of the demon's expulsion. Sam finally clicked his tongue and pointed at a spot of the spray paint near to the toppled-over table. "The damn holy water wore through the paint. How the hell did that happen?"

"Well I don't know!" Dean rolled his eyes, pissed that they let a demon away. Certainly one that was especially intent on bringing the end of the world. Again.

"So you're saying we tried to off a demon - who is desperate to get a vessel to end the world for her - and just let it wander free? We're out of practice."

Dean shrugged. "We've been on break for a while, we shouldn't have come to a case we didn't think we could handle."

"But you thought we could handle it." Sam sighed.

"Since when did I say that?"

The younger brother mocked the eldest, "Oh, it's just another bog-standard demon. We'll gank this son-of-a-bitch and be on our way. I mean, there's nothing special about a demon trying to get some revenge."

Dean looked away, scrunching his nose up, "Shut up, Sammy."

"Oh, and another thing," Sam seemed to be extremely worked up by the situation.

It wasn't the stench of blood that knocked the brothers from their argument, or the spluttering of blood becoming lodged in a throat. It wasn't the gasps of pain, or the weak attempts of someone trying to weasel their way out of their restraints. It was the meagre whimper of a teenage girl that had been hit too hard by the winds of reality.

"I don't want to die..."