OMG I'm in Supernatural?

#8 Amen.

"I'm peachy. Are you ready to go back to hell? They miss you down there," she clicked her fingers twice. The snarling got louder.

"Not on your life bitch. RUN!" Dean shouted. We all did. I was super glad I had decided to wear the jogging trainers today, instead of the thigh high boots. Damn, death because of the wrong shoes, that would suck. Although if I was going to die I’d want to die looking good. Was that superficial of me? Oh well!

We were halfway to the store, Ellen and Sam slightly ahead, when I heard a tear. Dean. I looked back, something invisible was tearing at Dean’s trousers and then boots. Without thinking I shot the gun right were…whatever it was…would be. All the while hoping and praying I wouldn’t shoot Dean. I was glad Dean had shown me the basics of gun shooting. I must have successfully shot it because I heard a dog like yelp and black liquid was seeping into the dirty road. Another gun joined in. Jo was helping?

“I care about Dean too,” she shouted over the noise that was giving me a pretty bad headache.

Dean took his chance and started running over towards us. It’s not like he was that far behind anyway. As he did I heard a snarl next to me. I shot straight in front of me. It sucked I couldn’t see what it was. But that bitch, whatever it was, was going down.

“It got me,” Jo fell.

I screamed, shooting around me. Hearing painful yelps from those bitches. This sounds…gory but Jo’s intestines were hanging out. I had to swallow vomit down.

“Dean pick her up,” I screamed over not only the gun noise but Ellen’s cries.

I ran after Dean, who was carrying Jo. I shot sparingly, coz I was running dangerously low on ammo. Damn, I sounded badass.

A layer of dirt was upon the whole shop, as if it had not been opened in a while. It was just your average mid-western American store with rows of you average mid-western products.

“Sammy look for medical kit. Dean look for some whisky, or anything with more than 4% alcohol,”

Sam started rummaging through the store like a tornado.

“Stop,” Jo croaked from her spot leaning against the front counter. She looked so pale, like a Twilight character. One of those Cullen’s. There was blood all over her, and it was slowly seeping on the titled floor Her blood. It was sickening.

I gulped, taking in a deep breath and telling myself to stop being such a sissy. I’m gonna be honest I was not a fan of blood. I was getting all queasy. It wasn’t so much blood itself. It was that there was so much of it. Like spiders. One spider alone is okay, a whole bunch of them together is too much for me. Same thing with blood. One drop is okay, eight whole pints not so much.

Ellen sat next to her daughter, her arm wrapped tightly around Jo’s shoulder. Her face was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. She looked so pitiful, she held on to Jo for dear life.

“I’ve got my hanging out here. I’ll never survive,” she said it matter-of-fact. In that moment I respected her brutal honesty. Because it really didn’t look like she would live and as much as I didn’t like her, (which out of 100 would be 120) I would never, ever have wished for her to die. Especially like this. Because that would be mean and cruel. Very mean and cruel. Like Hitler cruel. Mean.

I still felt bad about this morning, even more so now, even though she deserved it. The words not the dying. She did not deserve to die like this.

“We can’t leave you here,” Dean said giving her a small bottle of Vodka. Better than nothing.

“Yes, you can,” Jo muttered, her voice filled with raw pain.

“NO,” Ellen said fiercely, “we are not leaving you.”

“Mum, shut up,” Jo managed a small smile.

“We can’t leave you here without a weapon,” Sammy interjected with a grimace.

“We all know we’ve got the perfect ingredients for a bomb.”

“I didn’t know that,” I added.

“That’s because you’re a Barbie,” she said trying to bring some humor into the equation.

“Bitch,” I muttered. She cracked a small smile.

Ellen clutched the detonator with a determination. She would not leave her daughter alone to die. Jo was all she had left.

She heard the bark of the hell hounds, the same sons of bitches who hurt her baby. They would die. It would be Ellen’s last deed.

She whispered to her Jo, “We’re safe baby girl,” she planted a kiss on her beautiful daughter’s head.

Ellen felt the chill go up her spine, the chill that meant they were in the store. She waited an anxious second before she felt the hot breath on her face.

She took a deep breath.

I was running beside Dean when the explosion went off.

“Lord God of power and mercy, you have made death itself the gateway to eternal life. Look with love on our dying sisters, and make them one with Your Son in His suffering and death, that, sealed with the blood of Christ, they may come before you free from sin. Amen,” I whispered, as Dean took my hand and pulled me to run faster.

Dean and Sam may have looked back, but I would not. I would not want that memory of Ellen and Jo on my mind.