Written by: KariGorsuch

The four of us pulled into a dimly lit roadside café, its neon "Open 24 Hours" sign flickering like it was barely clinging to life. The building looked like it had been standing for decades—greasy windows, a faded menu painted onto the glass, and a buzzing light above the door that threatened to go out completely. It was the kind of place only truckers, drifters, and people like us—hunters—would stop at in the dead of night.

Dean parked the Impala and swung the door open with a groan, stretching his arms over his head. "Man, I could eat an entire cow right now."

Sam shot him a look, shoving his hands deeper into his jacket pockets as he stepped out. "Let's just hope they have something that wasn't deep-fried in motor oil."

I smirked, nudging Eve with my elbow. "Should we start a pool on how fast Dean orders pie?"

Eve snorted. "No bet. That's a sure thing."

The bell above the door jingled as we stepped inside. The place was nearly empty, save for a couple of truckers hunched over their coffee. A waitress in a faded uniform barely looked up as she wiped down the counter. The whole scene was normal—too normal. And that was never a good thing for us.

We slid into a booth, the menus sticking slightly to the tabletop. I settled in beside Sam, the warmth of his body close to mine, but there was still that unspoken tension from our last argument. He hadn't said much to me since walking in on Eve and me dancing.

Dean, either oblivious or just willfully ignoring the tension, grinned at the waitress as she approached. "I'll take a bacon cheeseburger, extra fries, and whatever pie you've got."

Sam sighed but ordered something small, barely glancing at the menu. Eve did the same. I scanned the options, but something itched at the back of my mind—an uneasy feeling I couldn't quite place.

Then, just as the waitress walked off, the lights flickered.

Sam tensed beside me. Eve's eyes darted to the door. Dean was already halfway out of his seat, his hand reaching for the gun tucked at his back.

And then everything went black.

The darkness was suffocating, pressing in from all sides. For a second, I could still feel Sam beside me—his hand instinctively grabbing for mine. But just as quickly, he was gone.

The ground slammed into me before I even realized I was falling. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping as my vision swam. My ears rang, a sharp, piercing sound cutting through the void.

I forced myself to focus.

Blinking hard, I pushed up onto my hands and knees. The café was gone. Or maybe it wasn't—but I couldn't see it anymore. I was somewhere else, somewhere swallowed by this impossible, unnatural darkness. It wasn't just the absence of light; it felt like something living, shifting, pressing against my skin like a physical force.

"Sam?" My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper. "Dean? Eve?"

No answer.

Then, like a radio tuning in from static, I heard Sam's voice.

"Bri?" His tone was sharp, edged with worry. He was close—but not close enough.

I turned, searching for him in the blackness, and then—suddenly—he was there.

I could see him, clear as day, standing just a few feet away. His posture was tense, his head whipping around like he was searching for something. His hand hovered over his gun, fingers twitching with barely restrained urgency.

"Sam!" I surged forward—but slammed into something solid, something invisible.

An invisible wall.

"What the—" I pressed my palms against the barrier, heart hammering. "Sam!"

Nothing.

He didn't hear me. Didn't see me.

His breathing was heavy, his stance shifting like he was preparing for a fight. "Where the hell is she?" he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the void. "Bri!"

Panic clawed up my throat as I took in my surroundings.

I stood in what looked like an abandoned town square, surrounded by decayed buildings and flickering streetlights. A rusted water tower loomed above me, its skeletal frame barely holding together. The air was thick, heavy, like the town itself was holding its breath.

I pressed a hand against the invisible wall again, my fingers splaying over the unseen force. "Sam!" My voice echoed, but it was like screaming into a void.

Across the square, Sam turned in slow circles, scanning the area, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Bri!" His voice was sharp, laced with something dangerously close to panic. He was searching, but he couldn't see me.

Sam turned sharply at the sound of movement, his body coiled, ready for a fight.

A scrawny-looking guy stepped hesitantly out from behind a crumbling storefront, eyes darting around like he half-expected something to jump him. "Sam?"

Sam's breath hitched for a split second before recognition set in. "Andy?" His relief was fleeting, instantly replaced by wariness. "What the hell is going on?"

Andy ran a hand through his messy hair, looking about as freaked out as Sam felt. "Dude, I have no freaking clue. One second, I'm crashed out in my van, next thing I know—boom. Here I am, in Silent Hill's sketchy little brother."

Sam's jaw clenched as he scanned the area again. "Have you seen anyone else? A brunette, about 5'2, big attitude, bigger right hook?"

Andy blinked. "Uh... that's weirdly specific."

Sam took a step closer, his patience thinning. "Andy."

Andy held up his hands. "Okay, okay! No, I haven't. It's just been me—until you." He hesitated, then glanced around. "And I don't think we're alone."

A figure stumbled out of the shadows, barely catching herself before collapsing against Sam's chest. She gripped his jacket, her breath hitching.

"Sam? Oh my God, is that you?"

Sam stiffened for half a second before his arms instinctively came around her, steadying her. "Ava?" His tone was careful, measured. "You okay?"

She nodded quickly, eyes darting around like a rabbit ready to bolt. "I—I don't know what's happening! I've been here for days. Maybe longer. I thought I was alone."

Before Sam could respond, another figure emerged from the darkness. He was built like a damn tank, military-cut hair and a no-nonsense stance. His sharp gaze flicked between them, assessing. A blonde woman stepped out from behind him, her expression just as guarded.

"Alright," the guy said, his voice all steel and command. "Someone needs to start talking. Now."

Sam took a slow breath, keeping his hands loose at his sides. "I don't know what this is yet. But we stick together until we figure it out."

From my spot behind the invisible barrier, I clenched my fists, frustration boiling in my chest. I should be there. I should be at his side, watching his back.

Ava stepped closer, wringing her hands. "Sam, you have no idea how happy I am to see you." Her voice shook, but her eyes stayed locked on his, wide and earnest. "I—I thought I was losing my mind."

The soldier folded his arms, his stance solid, suspicious. "Look, I don't know who the hell you people are, but this whole situation stinks. One minute, I'm in Afghanistan, next thing I know, I wake up in this damn ghost town. Somebody better start explaining."

Sam let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wish I could. But I think we were all brought here for the same reason."

Andy shifted on his feet, looking around like the buildings might give him an answer. "Uh, yeah. Cool, cool. Brought here by who? And more importantly, how do we leave?"

I clenched my fists, heart pounding as I pressed against the unseen barrier. I should be helping them, not standing here like a damn ghost.

Ava's gaze flickered toward the sky, her brow creasing. "I—I remember something." She hesitated, swallowing hard. "A man with yellow eyes. In my dreams."

A cold chill shot down my spine. Azazel.

Sam's whole body tensed, his jaw tightening. "The Yellow-Eyed Demon."

The soldier—Talley, according to his name tape—let out a dry, incredulous scoff. "Demon? You're telling me demons are real?"

Sam met his gaze, expression grim. "Yeah. And he's the one who brought us here."

Andy let out a short, panicked laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. "Oh, great. That's just awesome. So, what, we're in some kind of demon-sponsored Hunger Games? Yeah, fantastic." He threw his hands up. "Really appreciate the nightmare fuel, guys."

Sam squared his shoulders, his voice firm and commanding. "We're not playing into whatever sick game he's got planned. We stick together, we find a way out of here."

I watched helplessly from my invisible prison, my fists clenched tight as Sam and the others moved cautiously through the desolate town, searching for any sign of a way out.

Then, Andy suddenly stopped in his tracks, his fingers pressing to his temple. "Wait." His brow furrowed in concentration. "I think—I think I can do something. I can, like, send thoughts. Maybe I can reach someone outside."

Sam's eyes sharpened, his hope rising. "Telepathy?"

Andy nodded, his voice a little uncertain. "I did it before. With Dean. Maybe I can do it again."

The briefest flicker of hope crossed Sam's face. If Andy could reach Dean, maybe they'd have a shot at getting out of here.

Andy exhaled slowly, trying to concentrate. A beat passed. Then another.

But before he could try, a chilling scream ripped through the air.

Everyone froze, eyes darting toward the sound. Sam's instincts kicked in, his gaze darkening. "Come on," he ordered, already moving toward the source of the noise.

I stayed behind, frustration building as I watched them rush off without me. My body was tight, every muscle coiled with tension.

Moments later, I saw them huddled over a motionless body in the dirt.

Talley was kneeling beside her, his jaw tight and his expression grim. "What the hell did this?"

Sam studied the scene carefully, his face hardening. Ava stepped forward, but her voice faltered slightly. "Maybe she just... ran off, got attacked by something out here?"

Sam's face hardened as his eyes narrowed. "Or someone."

Ava swallowed, her gaze shifting, though she quickly masked it with an innocent expression. But I could see the flicker of something darker behind her eyes.

Ava shifted nervously under Sam's scrutinizing gaze, but she quickly recovered, pushing her anxious tone to the forefront. "W-We needed to stick together, okay? I didn't want to end up like her."

Andy swallowed, glancing between them with unease. "Yeah. Uh, that—that sounded like a good plan."

Jake, his soldier instincts kicking in, scanned the area. "We should find shelter, somewhere defensible. We had no idea what else was out there."

Sam hesitated, the gears in his head working through every possibility. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright. Let's move."

The group began heading toward an abandoned house in the center of town. The building's windows were boarded up, and the porch looked like it could collapse any second. Sam led the way, his senses on high alert.

I paced within the invisible barrier, frustration mounting as Sam and the others disappeared inside. Something wasn't right. Azazel was supposed to be dead.

The air around me thickened with an oppressive weight, and then I heard it—Azazel's laughter echoed through the abandoned town, distorted and mocking. My skin prickled. I clenched my fists, but my hand instinctively gripped for the knife that was no longer at my side.

"You," I hissed, voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "I thought you were dead. How the hell are you still here?"

Azazel straightened by the water tower, his yellow eyes gleaming with sickening superiority. He stepped toward me, his shoes crunching on the gravel, and that same condescending smile spread across his face.

"You should have been more concerned with why I was here, Brianna. But that doesn't matter. Not anymore." His grin widened, the words dripping with malice. "You see, you aren't just some human anymore. You are something... far more valuable."

I took a step back, fists clenched, but Azazel continued, his voice smooth, coaxing.

"This is a fight to the death, Brianna. A competition—" He let the word hang in the air, emphasizing it with a casual flick of his wrist. "—for your soul, for your very essence. The winner claimsyou, the vessel of Eve. The one who controlls you becomes my general, my right hand in a war that would bring the apocalypse to its knees."

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words crashing over me like a wave. Eve. The Goddess. Me. I shook my head, trying to focus. "I don't give a damn about your war," I growled, stepping back again, my mind racing to make sense of this twisted revelation. "You won't get me."

Azazel's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You don't understand, do you, Brianna? You never do." His voice dropped low, each word deliberate, like a predator savoring his prey. "You weren't in control here. You never were." He moved closer, his presence suffocating, and each syllable felt like a weight pressing down on me. "You would have been the prize in this game. And the moment you stepped onto that battlefield—whether you liked it or not—you belonged to me."

I gritted my teeth, trying to push back the fear gnawing at me. Anger rose to the surface, and I pushed it out, forcing myself to stand tall. "Sam won't let this happen. He'll stop you."

Azazel's smirk never faltered. His yellow eyes gleamed, almost pitying. "He's already too late, my dear. By the time he figurs it out, the game will be over. And I will have already won."

Before I could respond, Azazel vanished into the shadows, his parting words hanging in the air like a curse.

Sam and Talley reappeared on the porch as I turned my attention back to the town.

Sam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Talley didn't budge, his expression unreadable, but after a long beat, he let out a bitter chuckle. "You still don't get it, do you?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Get what?"

Jake shifted his stance, his muscles tensing as if bracing himself for a fight. "Why we're here. What the Yellow-Eyed Demon really wants from us."

Sam's gaze snapped to him, sensing the shift in the air. "He's trying to pit us against each other."

Jake's eyes darkened, his voice dropping lower. "Yeah. But you don't know why, do you?"

Sam's posture stiffened. "What's the reason, then?"

Talley tilted his head, studying Sam with a cool, calculating gaze. "You really don't know, do you?" He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "The demon came to me. Told me everything. Said whoever wins—whoever survives—doesn't just get to be his little soldier." His lips curled into something almost like a smirk. "The winner gets her."

Sam's stomach dropped, his eyes widening as the reality set in. "Her?"

Jake's eyes glinted with something dark, something calculating. "Brianna."

A cold chill washed over me, and I could feel the blood draining from my face.

Sam's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with anger. "You're lying."

Jake shrugged nonchalantly. "Am I?" He took a step closer, his tone growing more dangerous. "The Yellow-Eyed Demon didn't just gather us for our powers, Sam. He's looking for the strongest. His champion." His smirk widened, a cruel gleam in his eyes. "And the prize? The Goddess Eve's true vessel." He leaned in slightly. "Your girl."

"She's not my girl," Sam denied sharply.

Jake's smirk didn't falter. "Oh, I think she is. And the longer you deny it, the more you're going to want to protect her." He stepped even closer, his voice low, taunting. "But the thing is, Sam... she's a prize in a game that doesn't care who loves her or who's willing to fight for her. The Yellow-Eyed Demon is playing you all, and you're too blind to see it."

"Think about it. She's the perfect host. The most powerful vessel in existence. And Azazel? He wants her under his control. But she needs the right... partner. Someone strong enough to survive."

Sam's jaw clenched as he slowly took a step forward, his tone low and threatening. "If you touch her—"

Jake's gaze didn't falter. He shrugged nonchalantly, his voice dripping with amusement. "Hey, I didn't make the rules, man. But it's pretty simple. Only one of us walks out of here. And the winner? Gets her."

I felt a chill run through me, a sick realization settling in. Azazel wasn't just looking for a leader for his army—he was choosing someone to bind me to, someone strong enough to survive the connection. Someone who could control me.

"Not happening," Sam muttered, his voice cold and filled with venom.

Jake's smirk twisted into something more sinister. "Yeah? We'll see about that."

Without warning, Jake moved, his speed catching Sam off guard. He lunged forward, his fist aimed squarely at Sam's face.

Sam barely had time to react. He ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as Jake's fist whooshed past him. Sam stumbled back but quickly regained his balance, his stance shifting into one of readiness.

"You wanna do this?" Sam growled, eyes locking onto Jake, determination in every line of his face.

Jake's eyes glinted with amusement and malice. "Hell yeah."

Jake attacked again, this time faster than Sam had anticipated. His fist slammed into Sam's side, making him grunt from the force of the blow. Sam gritted his teeth, retaliating with a hard right to Jake's ribs. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the empty street.

Jake staggered back, but only for a moment. He lunged again, using his size and strength to overpower Sam's punches. Sam dodged, barely avoiding Jake's right hook, and planted a sharp kick into Jake's midsection, forcing him back once more.

"Come on, Sam!" Jake taunted, breathing heavily, his grin growing wider. "You've got the heart, but you're not fast enough."

Sam's focus never wavered, his body moving instinctively. "I'll keep fighting as long as I have to," he spat, landing another quick punch to Jake's jaw.

Jake roared, clearly irritated now, and swung harder, using his momentum to throw a brutal punch. Sam barely managed to block it, but the force knocked him back. He stumbled, but didn't fall.

I slammed my fists against the barrier, my breath coming in short gasps as I watched them fight. The desperation in Sam's movements, his refusal to back down, hit me harder than ever.

I wanted to help him. I needed to help him.

Jake moved in again, faster than before, trying to land a knockout blow. Sam, with a twist of his body, grabbed Jake's arm and twisted, using Jake's momentum to flip him onto the ground with a resounding thud.

Sam immediately pinned Jake's arm to the ground, his face a mask of concentration and fury. "This ends now."

Jake struggled, thrashing beneath Sam, but Sam's grip was firm. His eyes never left Jake's as he spoke through clenched teeth. "You're not touching her. Not now. Not ever."

Jake's smirk never fully disappeared. "We'll see about that, Winchester," he grunted, trying to throw Sam off.

Jake recovered fast, using his training to unseat Sam with brutal efficiency. Sam stumbled, but his instincts kicked in, and he blocked Jake's next hit just in time before swinging back with a powerful blow. The fight between them was brutal—punches landed with sickening force, the sounds echoing through the empty streets of the ghost town.

Jake landed a devastating punch to Sam's gut, sending him crashing hard against the side of an abandoned building. Sam gritted his teeth, refusing to stay down, but I could see the exhaustion in his movements. He was hurt.

"Just give it up, Sam," Jake taunted, rolling his shoulders like he was enjoying this. "You're good, but you're not good enough."

Sam spat blood onto the ground, his eyes burning with defiance. "Yeah? We'll see about that."

With a sudden burst of energy, Sam lunged forward, tackling Jake to the ground. They struggled, fists flying, each one determined to come out on top. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. Every part of me screamed for me to do something, to help him—but the Hellhound guarding me growled low in warning. I was helpless.

Then, Jake found an opening. He landed a harsh punch to Sam's shoulder, and I heard the sickening crack of bone under the force. Sam let out a guttural scream, the sound torn from him as the pain shot through his body like lightning. His arm went limp, muscles failing to hold up under the brutal blow. He gasped for air, trying to recover, but Jake was already on him, driving his knee into Sam's side, forcing the air from his lungs.

"Come on, Sam," Jake mocked, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're not going to let a little pain stop you, are you? You're supposed to be the strong one."

Sam's jaw clenched, eyes burning with an unrelenting fire. He gritted his teeth, summoning every last ounce of his strength. Despite the searing pain in his shoulder, he managed to shove Jake off, rolling to the side and struggling to get back on his feet.

Sam staggered up, his breath ragged, his body a map of pain. But the fire in his eyes hadn't dimmed. With a grunt of effort, he lunged forward, using every bit of his strength to land a crushing blow to Jake's jaw. The punch landed with a sickening thud, and for a brief moment, Jake's body went slack, his eyes unfocused. He crashed to the ground, knocked out cold, but it wouldn't last.

"Sam—!" I choked out, barely able to get the word past my lips, the panic and helplessness in my voice so raw it felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest.

Jake didn't hesitate. Once he was back on his feet, he moved with brutal efficiency, his eyes gleaming with that predatory confidence. Without warning, he reared back and drove the knife deep into Sam's spine. The sickening sound of the blade sinking into flesh echoed through the empty streets, and a strangled cry ripped from Sam's throat—a sound so full of agony that it cut deeper than any physical wound ever could.

Sam's body jerked violently, his face contorting in pain, his eyes wide with disbelief as he collapsed to his knees. The weight of the blow sent him crashing down, and his breath came in ragged, desperate gasps. But it was the light fading from his eyes that made my breath catch in my throat. I saw the fight drain from him, the defiance slipping away as his body seemed to give up.

"Sam!" I screamed again, my voice cracking, but it felt like I was shouting into an abyss, helpless and powerless to reach him.