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Free Supernatural Fanfiction – Chapter Summary:

As terrifying visions blur reality, Analina struggles to remember what’s real while Dean races to find a way to save her.

Rating: PG-13
Contains:   For supernatural horror, frightening imagery, intense peril, demonic hallucinations

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE:  
Not Real

DEAN USHERED ME TOWARD THE TRUCK. He kept telling me not to worry, that they’d think of something. The demon and the djinn were both dead. That left only two djinns, and the others could handle them. He rambled on, more to calm himself than me, I assumed.

I only half paid attention. I thought I heard a fluttering sound as we walked. I couldn’t detect anything with my gift. Apparently, I was the only one who heard it—Dean didn’t react. The djinn’s magic must be starting.

We made it to the truck without incident.

“Dean?” I called, as he opened the door for me.

“Yeah,” he said quickly.

“If there’s something really there, please let me know, okay?”

“Why? Are you already seeing things?” he asked, alarmed. His eyes widened as he scanned the surroundings.

“No,” I said. He looked slightly relieved. “But I thought I heard something.”

That wiped away the relief. He helped me into the truck and climbed in beside me. He pulled out his phone.

I heard the noise again—and thought I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes for a second. I wasn’t sure what I would hallucinate. It was supposed to be nightmares. But I’d never had real ones. No monsters. Just stupid stuff—being late for school or work. I had no idea what my subconscious held.

“We’re still at the site. They’re finishing off the other two,” Dean said into the phone. His hand clenched around it. He paused. “Why?… How?… Do you think that’ll work?… No, let’s try it. It’s the best thing we’ve got. Is she pretty sure about this?”

He hung up a moment later and turned to me. “That was Sam. He thinks he has an idea of how to help you.”

“There’s no help for you,” said a voice I recognized—loud and clear behind me.

I jumped and turned, expecting to see him. But he was dead. Zechariah shouldn’t be here.

I looked. Nothing was there.

Dean followed my gaze. “No one’s there,” he said calmly.

“I—I know,” I said. “What did Sam say?”

Dean studied me. “He thinks Sera might be able to help you.”

“She can cure a djinn’s work?” I asked.

Dean sighed. “She’s never tried. But she said she can heal people if they’re supernaturally inflicted. And this has supernatural written all over it.”

“You’re trusting a half-angel to heal you?” Zechariah scoffed. “Filthy half-breeds. God himself ordered them destroyed. Ever hear the story of Noah’s Ark?”

I heard his voice again behind me. Dean was saying something, but I couldn’t focus. His voice sounded muffled—drowned out by whatever was in my head.

“You sacrificed everything for nothing,” Zechariah sneered. “Castiel is losing. Raphael is too strong. Once he defeats your little angel pet, you’ll regret not listening to me when—”

“Analina!” Dean snapped his fingers in front of my face.

I jerked.

“You still with me?”

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. “I’m just… starting to hear things.”

“What things?” he asked.

I hesitated. “It’s nothing. I’m okay. It’s not so bad.”

I avoided saying more. I had to keep my head. I had to remember these things weren’t real. What I was hearing wasn’t happening. I needed to stay calm—so I wouldn’t drop dead from fright.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real…

Dean didn’t look convinced.

“We’re going to meet Sam and Sera,” he said. He jumped out of the passenger side and walked around to the driver’s side. I saw John approaching with the other hunters behind him. Dean spoke to him, but I couldn’t hear what they said—even Zechariah had gone quiet.

Dean returned to the truck and climbed in, starting the ignition before his door was shut.

“We’re meeting Sam. Dad’s catching a ride with his buddies,” he said, pulling onto the street. “We’ll catch up with him when we get you better.”

He slammed on the gas. The truck lurched forward.

Dean drove even faster than usual. We didn’t talk. But he kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

THE LONGER WE DROVE, the more I started to see things. Flashes. At first, just shadows—or Zechariah standing on the side of the road. It happened so fast I wasn’t sure I’d actually seen them.

Then it got worse.

Almost every time I blinked, I saw something. A dark man talking to Zechariah. Something flaming. Two glowing red eyes. Angels and demons in random scenes I couldn’t place. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Most of the time, I stopped myself from jumping. But when I thought it was hailing fire, I couldn’t help it. The earthquake that shook the truck and toppled trees had no effect on Dean. The scenes looked more realistic as time passed. If it weren’t for Dean’s lack of reaction, I wouldn’t know they were hallucinations.

After a while, Dean stopped to get gas at a local Gas-n-Sip. We were getting closer to Sam and Sera, who were driving to meet us halfway. I just had to hold on.

As Dean pumped gas, something landed on the hood of the truck.

I looked out—and saw the face of a pig with red eyes.

More horrifying than anything I’d imagined when my dad told me stories about the Little Helper, the creature’s pig face was scarred, chunks of skin missing, oozing blood so dark it looked black. Its stumpy body had human hands and feet. It wore no clothes, but the folds of skin mimicked its face.

I clasped a hand over my mouth. This had to be a hallucination. Not real…

The pig stared at me. I stared back. Its breath puffed steam onto the windshield.

“Not real, not real,” I whispered. My heart rate climbed with every passing second.

The hallucination wouldn’t go away like the others.

I looked around for Dean. He was by the side of the street—far from the truck. Why did he go all the way over there?

I turned back. The pig was gone.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re not going to escape this time,” a raspy demonic voice said to my left.

My head whipped around before I could stop myself.

Inches away from my face glared the red-eyed pig. Its hot breath blew my hair back. The blood oozed with pus I hadn’t noticed before. The stench of decay filled the truck cabin.

“Dean?” I called weakly. My body shook. I tried to hold in a scream. “Dean!”

No answer.

The pig snorted with mirth, spraying me with warm, gooey snot.

Hallucination or not—I flew out of the truck.

I stumbled to the side of the street where Dean had stood. I almost reached him when I looked around.

Scores of people surrounded us. Motionless. Like zombies awaiting prey.

I stopped. Turned towards the gas station.

The pig stood on top of the truck, watching. Its face was more terrifying than before, if that was possible.

Dean would ground me back to reality, I thought. I just had to get to him.

I twirled around—and he was gone.

A yellow-eyed demon stood in his place. On either side of him were more demons.

Then I realized—the whole crowd surrounding me were demons and fallen angels.

I had to get away.

Where was Dean?

Panic set in.

I started to run. Maybe I could plow through them.

Just as I began to move, something wrapped around my waist, pulling me back.

I struggled against the grip. I was too afraid to look behind me. I couldn’t think rationally. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

Pressure on my neck.

Everything went black.

I WOKE TO THE SOUND OF THE TRUCK DRIVING.

Had I dreamed all of it? I was afraid to open my eyes—to see what might be there.

“It’s almost over,” a demonic voice whispered in my ear.

I whimpered, covering my face with my hands.

“We’ll take good care of you,” the voice continued. “Promise!”

I shook my head and kept my eyes shut.

Pounding echoed all around me—on the hood, the roof, the windows, the truck bed. Whispers filled the air, circling me.

“You’ll pay for what you did to us,” another demonic voice hissed. Cackling followed.

Something brushed my arm—and I jerked it back. I wanted it all to stop. Please, make it stop.

Suddenly, the truck slammed its brakes, stopping hard. Not like that, I thought. I heard movement. Talking. Hundreds of voices echoed inside my head.

The door opened to my right.

Hands reached for me again. I tried to pull back, but they held me down. Panic surged.

Then—something changed.

Warmth radiated from my stomach, slowly spreading through every cell of my body. My breathing slowed. My heart rate returned to normal. The warmth retreated, lingering where it had started.

I opened my eyes.

Sera stood over me. Sam and Dean were directly behind her.

I was slouched in the front seat of the truck. I took in a shaky breath. My body felt weak—like I’d run a marathon. My clothes clung to me under my coat. I’d lost my hat. My hair stuck to my forehead.

Sera stepped back. Dean came forward and lifted me upright. He gently pushed my hair away from my face.

“Analina, how do you feel?” His voice shook.

I looked around. Nothing out of place. No voices. No monsters.

“Better,” I whispered. “Much better.”

Dean sighed—and bearhugged me.

Image by Copilot

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