More Horror Rules ficlets!
A/N: In what can be considered as an extension of my birthday present to dante_s_hell , I'm writing more Horror Rules ficlets! I really ought to make a tag for these, because they're supremely fun and I bet I'll be writing more. (Even though I really ought to be working on my novel. Feh to that! I'll work on that during the summer.) Hope you enjoy!
A/N redux: Sorry this took so long, my social life has recently exploded, and I've found myself with little time to write that hasn't been spent making totally rad friendship bracelets. I'm only posting these two, but I should have more soon.
If your companions suddenly begin to exhibit uncharacteristic behavior such as hissing, fascination for blood, glowing eyes, increasing hairiness, and so on, get away from them as soon as possible!
"Sammy?" Dean's voice sounded a fair bit huskier than usual, and Sam glanced up from the book he was reading -- studying up on whatever creature had taken a chunk out of his brother's arm -- in concern. "Can you come here a second? I need a favor."
"Why are you being such a girl lately, Dean?" This wasn't the first time Dean had hollered to Sam from the next room, asking Sam to help him do research, oil guns, or even start the washing machine. It was as if Dean was forgetting how to do basic tasks in the past week. If Sam didn't enjoy ragging him about it so much, he might be concerned about it.
"Just c'mere a sec. It'll be quick, I promise." Perhaps it was some subconscious worry about his brother, or a desire to find yet another chore he could tease Dean about, but Sam stood up anyways and wandered into the bathroom, where Dean was standing before the mirror with a razor.
And he was absolutely furry. Like, shaggier than a mountain hermit, furry. Dean had never been one for growing anything more than stubble, and Sam would have understood if he'd just wanted to experiment, but this was ridiculous. "Get that monster-beard off your face, man!" He took a moment to look at Dean, beyond the massive growth of hair coming out of his face. And his forehead. And his hands. What the fuck?
"You alright? What's up with your eyes?" They were rapidly turning an unpleasant shade of dark amber, shot through with black. "Fuck. Christo. Christo!" He attempted to scramble back out of the bathroom, but Dean quickly reached around Sam and slammed the door shut, leaving his arm wrapped around his brother.
Sam struggled, but found himself pinned to the cheap wooden door. "What's wrong, Sammy? I just need a little favor. It'll be quick." A set of yellowed fangs grew swiftly out of Dean's gums. "Please? You'll help your brother out, right?"
Of course he would. It was Dean, after all.
If you're female, never EVER take off your shirt. They like to attack you when your bejoobies are hanging out.
It had all seemed so simple, when she'd planned out this evening. Well, not planned, so much as ordered. Two hot guys in her bedroom, willing to do whatever she wanted, all for one low flat rate. The guys strolled in, right on time, one of them already shirtless and the other already halfway to taking off a plaid button down. So they didn't waste any time. Good.
"Hey, there. I'm Jensen, and this is Jared. You're Callie, right?" the shorter man asked as his companion finally managed to pull off his shirt.
"Yeah, that's me. So, you guys are up for anything, right?" The taller one -- Jared -- nodded, and Callie took a moment to appreciate his long, bare chest. "Well, let's start simple. Pants off." Even considering their profession, Jensen and Jared were quick to obey, even helping each other out with nimble fingers and lingering glances.
Of course, it was just her luck that she'd be in the middle of unhooking her bra when something smashed its way through the door. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, for lack of more eloquent phrasing, as her bra fell to the floor. "Who's trying to get in here?"
Jensen yanked her back against the wall while Jared rushed to the foyer and tried to chase off ... whatever the thing was. "Jared! No!" And yep, those two were definitely together.
"Fuck off, whatever the hell you are! We're busy!" Whatever the shadowy monster at the door was, it wasn't deterred by her shouting or the half-naked man in its path. Jared didn't stand a chance against those long, silvery claws. They shredded him to bits in just a few passes, and the wails that rang out of Jensen's throat were simply inhuman.
"Run, run, gotta run, gotta fucking run," she muttered, trying (and failing) to maintain some semblance of composure as she scrambled up the stairs. As she made it to the top floor, Jensen started to scream. Of course. Still, in the part of her head that wasn't busy running for her life, Callie felt bad for the two guys who'd only wanted to make a few bucks and wound up dead on the carpet.
She felt worse for herself, though.
A/N redux: Sorry this took so long, my social life has recently exploded, and I've found myself with little time to write that hasn't been spent making totally rad friendship bracelets. I'm only posting these two, but I should have more soon.
If your companions suddenly begin to exhibit uncharacteristic behavior such as hissing, fascination for blood, glowing eyes, increasing hairiness, and so on, get away from them as soon as possible!
"Sammy?" Dean's voice sounded a fair bit huskier than usual, and Sam glanced up from the book he was reading -- studying up on whatever creature had taken a chunk out of his brother's arm -- in concern. "Can you come here a second? I need a favor."
"Why are you being such a girl lately, Dean?" This wasn't the first time Dean had hollered to Sam from the next room, asking Sam to help him do research, oil guns, or even start the washing machine. It was as if Dean was forgetting how to do basic tasks in the past week. If Sam didn't enjoy ragging him about it so much, he might be concerned about it.
"Just c'mere a sec. It'll be quick, I promise." Perhaps it was some subconscious worry about his brother, or a desire to find yet another chore he could tease Dean about, but Sam stood up anyways and wandered into the bathroom, where Dean was standing before the mirror with a razor.
And he was absolutely furry. Like, shaggier than a mountain hermit, furry. Dean had never been one for growing anything more than stubble, and Sam would have understood if he'd just wanted to experiment, but this was ridiculous. "Get that monster-beard off your face, man!" He took a moment to look at Dean, beyond the massive growth of hair coming out of his face. And his forehead. And his hands. What the fuck?
"You alright? What's up with your eyes?" They were rapidly turning an unpleasant shade of dark amber, shot through with black. "Fuck. Christo. Christo!" He attempted to scramble back out of the bathroom, but Dean quickly reached around Sam and slammed the door shut, leaving his arm wrapped around his brother.
Sam struggled, but found himself pinned to the cheap wooden door. "What's wrong, Sammy? I just need a little favor. It'll be quick." A set of yellowed fangs grew swiftly out of Dean's gums. "Please? You'll help your brother out, right?"
Of course he would. It was Dean, after all.
If you're female, never EVER take off your shirt. They like to attack you when your bejoobies are hanging out.
It had all seemed so simple, when she'd planned out this evening. Well, not planned, so much as ordered. Two hot guys in her bedroom, willing to do whatever she wanted, all for one low flat rate. The guys strolled in, right on time, one of them already shirtless and the other already halfway to taking off a plaid button down. So they didn't waste any time. Good.
"Hey, there. I'm Jensen, and this is Jared. You're Callie, right?" the shorter man asked as his companion finally managed to pull off his shirt.
"Yeah, that's me. So, you guys are up for anything, right?" The taller one -- Jared -- nodded, and Callie took a moment to appreciate his long, bare chest. "Well, let's start simple. Pants off." Even considering their profession, Jensen and Jared were quick to obey, even helping each other out with nimble fingers and lingering glances.
Of course, it was just her luck that she'd be in the middle of unhooking her bra when something smashed its way through the door. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, for lack of more eloquent phrasing, as her bra fell to the floor. "Who's trying to get in here?"
Jensen yanked her back against the wall while Jared rushed to the foyer and tried to chase off ... whatever the thing was. "Jared! No!" And yep, those two were definitely together.
"Fuck off, whatever the hell you are! We're busy!" Whatever the shadowy monster at the door was, it wasn't deterred by her shouting or the half-naked man in its path. Jared didn't stand a chance against those long, silvery claws. They shredded him to bits in just a few passes, and the wails that rang out of Jensen's throat were simply inhuman.
"Run, run, gotta run, gotta fucking run," she muttered, trying (and failing) to maintain some semblance of composure as she scrambled up the stairs. As she made it to the top floor, Jensen started to scream. Of course. Still, in the part of her head that wasn't busy running for her life, Callie felt bad for the two guys who'd only wanted to make a few bucks and wound up dead on the carpet.
She felt worse for herself, though.