PROLOGUE
As the two brothers step into the shining black Chevrolet, the sky bleeds red and the sun begins to fall. It is only a matter of time before the Grim Reaper casts his shadows of misery and darkness across the furthest reaches of land.
They may walk for miles, but there will be always something waiting for them, something amongst the swaying branches, groaning in the constant wind. That something will have no mercy, for it’s blackened heart and dangerous conscious will crave for the dark red liquid that shimmers in the moonlight. It will never be quenched or full of flesh, for it will always have the desire to hunt, to kill.
All of the creatures of the darkness have a craving for blood, a craving to satisfy their selfish needs in which harm thousands of people around them. They never stop to think of what they’re doing… only how they’re doing it and what it’s getting them. It’s getting them closer and closer to the clutches of Lucifer. He who fell from the heaven’s because he would not commit to the people of Earth. His white feathers blackened by the ink of night.
Lucifer, trapped and caged in the depths of hell… all of his deadly desires will never reach the young men again, and his thirsty clutch will never get a hold on Sam Winchester.
CHAPTER ONE
“Dude,” Dean’s deep dialect was muffled as he chewed on a golden chicken leg.
“You’re lagging.”
Looking at his brother in fascinated disgust, Sam only laughed and rested his bulky arm on the car door, right hand firmly gripping the steering wheel.
“We have another two hours to get there, it’s fine. We’ll make it.” Sam reassured, cocking his head to the side and back to the front, keeping his gaze away from the greasy bucket of chicken legs his brother was feasting on.
“Sammy, there’s something I know about you that you don’t. You’re not a good driver.”
“Oh, man, seriously? Don’t try and do that, just because I have no soul doesn’t mean I can’t remember what I can and can’t do.”
Sam flinched as Dean chucked another chicken leg in his mouth, not even attempting to close his mouth as he ate like a snorting pig. “Ha,” laughed Dean, and he slyly wiped his grease covered fingers on Sam’s leather jacket.
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