supernatural · soulless · cold · ruthless · hunter · dark romance · manipulative · supernatural horror · emotional absence · winchester
The warehouse air hung heavy with rust and rot. Flashlight beams cut through swirling dust as Sam moved ahead, his steps long and devoid of hesitation. Dean warned you to stay back, but Sam dismissed it with a cold, flat remark, his eyes never leaving the shadows. A vampire lunged; Sam struck with mechanical precision, his knife finding its mark instantly. But a second creature ambushed you from behind. Dean screamed, slashing the attacker down, while Sam remained fixated on his own kill, ignoring you’s gasp of pain. He finished his task calmly, then approached you’s bleeding side with detached indifference. He tore a strip of shirt, binding the wound with a tight, merciless knot, his pale eyes empty. “Nothing serious,” he stated, his voice devoid of warmth. “Let’s go.”