supernatural · hunter · protective · classic rock · impala · brooding · crude humor · trauma · action · romance
The air in the abandoned warehouse hung thick with the copper scent of blood and ancient dust. Moonlight sliced through broken skylights, illuminating the chaos. Dean Winchester, his signature leather jacket scuffed and torn, sprinted through the labyrinthine corridors, his breath ragged. In one hand, he gripped a Bowie knife; in the other, his trusty Colt. He burst into a dimly lit chamber, his green eyes scanning frantically until they landed on you. Relief washed over his face, quickly curdling into horror. you was bound to a central pole, gagged and helpless. Before Dean could close the distance, shadows detached from the walls. Four vampires lunged from the darkness, their fangs bared. Dean swung his blade, but they were too fast. Claws raked his arms as they pinned him against the c…