It was the scent of wild flowers that never smelled so good. The clean scent that the air brought after a little shower of rain, the gentle breeze brushing against the hair of his arms, his face, his hair; being able to see, smell, taste, feel the life that Mother Nature gave to the human world. He was alive. He could feel again. He could hear the sound of his own heart beating against his chest; hell, he could feel it. He was not a demon, or some other creature of evil; he was himself; he was Dean Winchester.

He remembered fighting so hard to climb his way out of Hell and toward the Devil’s Gate – the same gate that he and Sam had accidentally allowed to be opened – like it was just yesterday. He remembered breaking free of his demon captors and fighting his way to Bela to free her despite the fact that he hated her; however, leaving her to suffer in Hell? He would not want to wish that upon his worst enemy; at least not anymore, after experiencing what he had. He remembered them fighting as they ran, Dean had to admit that she was a damned good fighter that was capable of holding her own. He had to admit to it, because, he had been one of her victims countless of times.

“We’re alive.”

That was all he could say.

Dean glanced about the empty cemetery before he made his way toward Bela and for once in his life, hugged her and actually meaning it. As he remembered his days of torment, and now being back in the real world, the remembrance of Hell did nothing more than break Dean emotionally.

“We’re alive, Bela,” he choked out through tears of happiness, holding onto her tightly before finally gave in and crumbled to his knees with his forehead pressed against her stomach. He wished Sam was here. Where was Sam? How could he find his little brother? Was Sam still alive?

Almost reluctantly, Dean pulled away from Bela and tested the ground just to make sure he was really here. The grass and dirt were cool and partially moist, and felt damn good to his sense of touch. As he got back to his feet and gave the area another glance around, Dean returned his attention to Bela to see what she was feeling; if she was feeling anything at all. Hell, did he really save her? With his hands grasping the sides of her face, Dean kissed her not, because, he missed the taste of a woman’s lip – okay, it was because, of that. It was not like Dean could really change who he was. Better himself, maybe, but to do a full one-eighty? Not even being Hell could accomplish that.

Somebody, help me! … Sam! … SAAAAAM!!

One phrase and one word were all that echoed within the endless abyss. Dean Winchester, the eldest brother and only brother of Sam, had finally met his time. The only problem that Dean faced while he writhed in pain was trying to remember was whether or not it was still the same day. Had a day passed since his time in Hell? A week? How long had been here? He remembered being suspended on chains and hooks that pierced his flesh, he remembered the agony and pain it brought – so when was he freed?

Freed, what a joke.

He was still in Hell.

The only thing that had changed was his punishment.

Dean recalled bits and pieces of what Ruby had said to him when she described this place to him. He should have given her the benefit of the doubt; but, he was alive then and she was a demon – so why did he have to believe her? The air she breathed came out crooked, that was he believed and continued to do so, anyway – right now, Dean was in denial over the fact that Ruby had been telling him the truth.

When that bitch breathes the air comes out crooked.

Sam. Sam. Where was his brother? What was he doing in the world of the living? Fighting the good fight? Trying to find a way to bring Dean back to life?

Don't you see a pattern here? Dad's deal, my deal, now this? I mean, every time one of us is up the creek; the other is begging to sell their soul.

Dean remembered telling Sam not to save him, because, they were each other’s weakness. They knew it, so did everyone else – humans and demons alike. It was a hard thing to overcome, though; he knew that. Even if he was dead, Dean wanted to live life again, and not take certain things for granted. Life was valuable and he got that. Right now, however, it was hard for Dean to fight to keep his sanity – his humanity; hope.

It was hard.

Especially when, “AAAAAAAAAAH!” It felt, as if, he had a thousand of needles trying to rip through his flesh – from the inside. Skin burning and sizzling from the eternal heat, razor sharp talons that tore into him. He was being tormented, but only in hopes that he would be broken. Dean was a Winchester; he was a fighter; he was not going to lose his humanity to these sons of bitches. If Ruby held onto hers, why could not he do it? Could not be that hard, could it? It was damned hard.

“B.. Bela?” That bitch was in Hell too. It was hard to forget; her own screams of pain resonated into his eardrums, forcing him to look toward her. She was nearby; at least, that is what it sounded like. From what he could see, Bela was not in that bad of shape as he was. Not like he was surprised. He was Dean Winchester; the trophy of Hell. But still, even though he hated her for what she had done, Dean could not keep his heart from going out to her. “LEAVE HER ALONE! Demonic, motherfuckers; it’s me you want!”

How did that saying go? Where there was a will, there was a way? Or some shit like that? He could not remember clearly. All Dean knew was that he would find a way out of here. He needed to get back to Sam. Bobby.

Sammy, how you doing up there?

“Can’t believe we just missed her!”

It was day nine of their hunt for Bela, making it a little over a week now.

Dean had literally had to put the pedal to the metal when their little side adventure cost them to lose Bela. It was moments like these where Dean hated vengeful ghosts more so, thinking that the dead just needed to get over with whatever that had happened to them; fortunate for the brothers, it had been an easy case to solve, but no matter what, Dean still hated losing the time that could be spent in recovering the Colt, because, without it the war was pretty much lost – and it had yet to get here.

“Sarah find out where she’s headed to next?” The youngest Sterling sister was Sam’s counterpart, and was – in Dean’s opinion – a hell of a lot smarter than his brother, which baffled Dean. At this point, he had accepted it, because, that girl had the know how in tracking someone down with that nifty laptop of hers. Where as Sam was stuck using his Blackberry during their travels in the Impala, Sarah had once told Dean that she had the computer capability and was growing in the field of hacking.

As he released the gas pedal, Dean began to make a turn that would not cause the Impala to topple over and go rolling with the speed he was going at. “She better be connected with everyone else!”

Deena Sterling felt and heard the pounding of her own heart as she raced through one of the many forests in Roswell, New Mexico with a Smith and Wesson in hand that was loaded with silver bullets. She could hear her sisters running along side her close by, eventually going their separate ways in order to cover more ground. A trail of reckless killings with missing hearts had brought the sisters to this city – the lack of hearts in the victim’s bodies had been a clear sign that a werewolf was the cause; the downside was that the wolf had managed to elude them, escaping through two states and a handful of cities.

What she didn’t know was that another pair of Hunters was nearby on the same hunt.

With her legs on fire, Deena made a cut to the right and was glad that she was familiar with the territory, being as this was the sisters second time being in Roswell. As luck would have it, in the near distance, Deena saw a fleeing feminine body with blonde hair. Without ceasing her running steps, levering her arms as she brought the gun up, a shot was fired off – even though the shot had struck the girl in the back of her shoulder, it was enough to throw her off balance, allowing Deena to go in for a tackle. “Ooh, no you don’t.”

As she wondered what was taking her sisters, Deena began to wrestle the no-name girl, having her weapon knocked from her grip she stared up at the feral blue eyes and fangs, struggling to keep its fangs from her neck while feeling her flesh being ripped apart. After a bit of rolling, Deena had managed to gain the upper-hand and be on top, struggling to keep the dominance as she tried to grab a silver stake from the inside of her jacket pockets.

The dark-haired woman continued to ravage the man’s body in heated passion, not just was pleasure on her part but to seek the revenge against the woman with whom he had committed the seventh commandment: Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery. Not only did he release sighs of pleasure, but his breathing had become suffocative like he was gasping for that fresh breath of air, but fought it due to fearing that he might lose this moment of excitement. With heated palms, she pressed them against his chest causing his heart to strain as she rode him.

At the time of climax, a devilish grin marked her red lips just before she cried in ecstasy. As her back arched, and nails dug into his shoulders – literally piercing the flesh – she would laugh maniacally at the sound of his pain. She gazed down at him and with a smirk, felt the exiting of his penis by unnatural means. Sharp razors within her vagina had sliced off the partner's penis, leaving him in unbearable pain that sent his body into shock. Once she had rendered him helpless, canines emerged from gums pushing out the ones she had already.

Red eyes snapped toward the sound of a crashing door while a guttural growl sounded from the base of her throat. This was an event she certainly wasn’t expecting, especially as a young, blond woman came charging into the room.

Even though Jo’s first reflex was to turn and hurl her afternoon meal, she kept the barrel of the shotgun trained on the succubi. “Can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but…,” BANG! Two rounds of salt rounds penetrated the demonic spirit’s naked chest, causing it to disperse into nothingness. The body of the young woman that it had possessed however wasn’t as lucky. Jo stepped toward the bloody scene and peered at the girl and witnesses as she shriveled into an old hag. Getting the spirit was beginning to prove to be a bitch; it had already left over a dozen dead men, and a handful of young women dying of old age.

Just as Jo was preparing to leave the house, she felt an overwhelming heat build within the depth of her gut. Exiting the room, and dropping her shot gun, Jo clasped onto the wooden railing and leaned against it, gasping. Oh god, no. She had become possessed by the spirit itself.

“You know Sa—,” the sound of a beep was emitted from his cell phone, causing Dean to pause in mid-sentence and lean off to the side in order to withdraw his cell from the back of his pocket and stare at it like ‘what-the-hell’. With a brow being brought up, reading the little screen that said he had an incoming text message, Dean just stared at it with confusion on his face before tossing it to Sam.

“Check that out.” Dean did not need to inform his brother that he did not know what to do next, because, all he was really skilled to do was answer the phone and/or getting to his voicemail – he could even track someone down with the GPS signal; but checking out text messages and replying to them and downloading songs or images? That was a whole other story that Dean knew that his brother took pride in poking fun at him about. “Text message,” was all he said, who it was from – that was Sammy’s department.

"So what else did Bobby have to say about our next adventure?"

As per usual, the eldest Winchester brother could be found behind the wheel of his baby - '67 Chevy Impala. Despite the fact that she was a gas guzzler, and was the source that took most of his money on their road trips; Dean still loved the automobile. The last couple days had been a hit and a miss when it came to their hunts, and Dean was beginning to wonder if Evil suddenly decided to give up? Nah. It was a nice thought, but something that would not happen anytime for sure; thusly, causing Dean to ponder on what lied ahead. He had a year to live and the clock was ticking; the thought of his time reaching its' expiration date, and leaving Sam behind was not a pleasant one. So kicking Evil's butt? Overtime needed to be done - BIG TIME.

Crunching up the wrapper, that housed his bacon cheeseburger into a little ball, Dean chucked it over his shoulder into the backseat before he took a swig of the watered down Coca-cola. A face was made. "Ugh, thought I said no ice? Nasty." Of course, Dean was just complaining for the sake of complaining.

Just then, the musical introduction of Blue Oyster Cult's : Don't Fear the Reaper came to life on the radio, causing Dean to grin like the Rock fanboy he was. "Well Sammy?"