Category Linkin Park

A Game of Chance by Remy

Dean Winchester

So this is something I've been planning for quite some time now, but never really got down to it. I put up a question on tumblr about if anyone would read it, and I got a good response, so here it is.

Work on my other stories is ongoing, and I'll have an update on them up in a bit too. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with them so far.

Warning: This story contains spoilers for season 8 of Supernatural. There is also likely to be graphic violence in later chapters.

To those unfamiliar with the show and lore, explanations are at the end.



The hunt was on.

Mike watched as Chester expertly picked the lock, taking care to have his gun ready. This was it, this was what they had been waiting for. Months of tracking and planning and plotting, and it had led them here, to this old abandoned factory in the worse parts of Lebanon, Kansas.

“We're in,” whispered Chester, pocketing his lockpick. “Come on, Mike.”

They crept in, back to back, guns at the ready. They were expecting backup, demons to pop out and try to kill them at any time, and so were as alert as twenty cups of coffee could make them. In fact, it was beginning to make Chester a little jittery.

“Stop that,” muttered Mike when Chester began to fiddle with the safety on his gun.

“I'm sorry,” Chester replied. “I just can't seem to help it.”

Their first demon appeared five minutes later, grinning. “Hello, fellas,” he said conversationally. “Having fun?”

“More than you'll be, in a minute,” retorted Mike as he fired. He expected the demon to drop, if not dead then at least unconscious, but all that happened was that the demon grinned wider and clicked his tongue condescendingly.

“Seems like you haven't studied up on your lore,” he said. With a flick of his fingers, Mike found himself flying through the air and crashing painfully into the nearest wall.

“Shit,” cursed Chester, keeping his gun trained on the demon even though he knew it was of no use. “Mike, you all right?” he called.

“Awesome,” grunted Mike as he struggled to his feet. “Just fucking amazing.”

He had barely just gotten to his feet when Chester came flying into him, knocking them both down. “You boys are no fun,” said the demon, looking disappointed. “You're not even a challenge!”

Chester looked at Mike, alarm clear on his face. “What do we do?” he mouthed.

Mike shrugged, helpless. Their guns were of no use, and they had nothing else. If guns didn't work there was a good chance knives didn't either.

The demon was walking closer, taking his own sweet time as he sized his prey up. “I have to say, though, it's going to be fun snapping your necks,” he said. “I haven't killed anyone in absolutely forever. I'm starting to miss it.”

He was an arm's length away, and Mike could see the black of his eyes as clear as day. It was a little terrifying, truth be told. He had heard of what demons could do, what exactly they were capable of, but this was his first time coming up this close to one of them. He had never seen their eyes before, and he could honestly say he never wanted to again.

Chances were, if they did nothing soon, he never would see anything else ever again, either.

Chester, apparently, had other plans. Before the demon could make a move to hurt them, he had whipped out his flask of holy water and sprayed it all over the demon's face. Mike didn't wait to see the grotesque vision of the thing clutching at his face and screaming – he had already grabbed Chester's arm and dragged them both out of the way.

“Let's get out of here,” panted Mike, pausing in his running to empty his own flask of holy water over his shoulder at the demon.

“You read my mind,” was Chester's reply.

They were out of the door in seconds, knowing without looking that the demon was chasing them, no longer yelling in pain. “There's more holy water in the car,” Mike said, cursing himself for having parked so freaking far away. “We're all out right now.”

“Yes, thank you for the reminder, I would never have known,” snarked Chester, a hair's breadth behind Mike. “What would I do without you and your Captain Obvious statements, really Mike, I'm so lost without you and your really helpful bits of information–”

“Shut up,” grouched Mike, his heart soaring when he finally spotted their car up ahead. “Come on, let's get home.”

His only answer was a cry of pain, sounding from where Chester had been a few seconds ago. His heart stopping momentarily, he braked and turned to see what had happened.

The demon had caught up to Chester and had him pinned on the ground, a foot resting on his neck. Mike knew that it would only take the demon a twist of his ankle to snap Chester's neck. His panic increased when he realized he was still a good ten feet from the car, and there was no way for him to get the holy water and fend the demon off while saving Chester's life at the same time.

“Did you really think I'd let you go that easy?” asked the demon, clearly mocking Mike. He was no longer grinning. “You two may be incompetent hunters, but you sure as hell run fast.”

Mike didn't answer. He was desperately sizing up the demon, looking for anything that could help him, anything that would at least let Chester get away. As opposed to struggling, he was lying very still, and Mike knew why – because any false movement would lead to a snapped neck. It was the only reason he wasn't struggling, or else Mike knew he would be giving the demon hell.

“I'm going to take my time with this,” the demon informed them. “This is going to be so much fun.” As if to drive his point home, he poked Chester's neck with the toes of his shoe.

Chester's face was pressed against the ground, turned towards Mike, and his eyes were wide open in fear and panic. “Mike,” he whispered. “Mike, go.”

If he wasn't already so close to death, Mike would have slapped the shit out of him. This was so typical of him, to completely disregard his own safety just to Mike could live. He didn't care if he was going to die – all that mattered to him was that Mike had a chance to get away.

And of course, Mike felt exactly the same way. As long as Chester had a chance, no matter how slim, he was not going anywhere. “No,” he replied to Chester.

“Aw, look,” said the demon, his voice high. “That's so sweet, isn't it? You two are just adorable. I'm definitely going to enjoy making you watch each other die–”

The demon stopped abruptly, a reddish-orange light shining from his core and out through his eyes and mouth. Not understanding what was happening, Mike watched in morbid fascination as the light flickered out and the demon collapsed on the ground, right on top of Chester.

Without bothering to see who had killed the demon, Mike raced forward and fell to his knees besides Chester, shoving the demon off him. “Chester,” he breathed, “Chester, are you all right?”

Chester groaned in reply. “I'm fine,” he said. “But my arm – I think it broke when I hit the ground.”

Mike took a look, and sure enough Chester's right arm was sticking out at a strange angle, already swollen and red. “Shit, we need to get you to a hospital,” he said, helping Chester up.

“You two really need to be more careful,” a new voice said, and Mike's head whipped in that direction. The new person was tall, even taller than Mike, with short spiky hair and brilliant green eyes. He was dressed in jeans, around fifty layers of plaid and T-shirts and a jacket on top. “Did you really think holy water was going to hold off the demon for long enough to let you guys escape?” he asked.

“Look, man,” Mike began carefully. Trusting other hunters was always a 50-50 scenario. You never knew when any one of them would turn around and stab you in the back. “Look, I'm really grateful that you helped us out, but we gotta go now. My buddy here's injured, I need to get him to a hospital.”

The man nodded. “Yeah, I know. I'm just sayin' – next time don't go headlong into a hunt half-assed, all right? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I'm aware,” replied Mike, beginning to walk away. “See you around.”

“Wait!” Chester said, and Mike turned to look at him incredulously. “How did you do it?” he asked the guy. “How did you kill him?”

“I have my ways,” the man replied guardedly.

“Because we tried shooting it, and that didn't work,” Chester pressed on. “I saw your knife when you stabbed it. How did you do it?”

“Bullets and knives don't work on demons... usually,” the man answered.

“So why does your knife work?” asked Mike, interested despite himself.

“I don't know, okay,” the man said, and Mike was pleased to see that he was on edge. “But you two – I've never seen anyone this stupid. You walked in there, with no idea how to deal with a demon. You're joking, right?”

Mike and Chester didn't reply.

“You didn't even set a devil's trap?” asked the stranger incredulously. “Are you two suicidal, or just completely stupid?”

Mike decided that it was enough. “Look,” he said icily, “what we do isn't any of your business, okay? Thanks for saving us and everything, but really. We need to leave now.”

“I'm not going to be there to save your asses the next time,” the stranger said. “You two are idiots, but I'm willing to show you the ropes, at least the basics.”

“Why?” asked Chester suspiciously. “How do we know you won't gag us and tie us and then kill us? How do we know you're not evil? How do we know you won't kidnap us? Hell, you could be a vampire for all we know–”

“Chester, shh,” said Mike, almost facepalming.

“What's wrong with him?” asked the stranger.

Chester mumbled something that sounded like “Too much coffee”. Mike rolled his eyes.

“He's right, though,” the stranger said. “I could be anyone.”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “You could be.” He turned to leave again, but was stopped again when Chester laid a hand on his arm.

The stranger had a silver knife in his hand, which he used to cut open his forearm. “Not a shifter,” he stated. Next he sprayed holy water and borax on himself. “Not a demon, or a Leviathan.” He lifted his upper lip with his fingers and used his other hand to press down on his gums. “Not a vamp.”

Satisfied, Mike nodded. The stranger offered the knife hilt-first to him. “Your turn.”

They went through with the tests, handing the stranger his knife back when they were done. Relaxing somewhat, the stranger asked, “How long you two been hunting?”

“Not long,” answered Chester. “Just a couple of years.”

“Chester, we gotta get you to a hospital,” Mike said, concerned. He hadn't missed the slight tremble in Chester's voice. “Look,” he said again to the stranger, “thank you, but we really need to be going.”

The stranger nodded. “Yeah, okay. Look after yourselves.”

“Yeah,” muttered Mike, opening the door to their '73 Mustang. “Come on, Chester.”

“Name's Dean,” the stranger said, by way of farewell. “Dean Winchester.”

Chester's eyes widened again, and he paused in the act of closing his door. “Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester?”

Dean Winchester rolled his eyes. “I see you've heard of me,” he said drily.

“Heard of you?” Chester looked awed. “You're like a legend, man! Where's Sam?”

Something in Dean's face tightened, and then his expression closed off. “Sam's fine,” he said. “You guys go on to the hospital. I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, bye,” said Mike hurriedly, and stepped on the gas before Chester could protest. The car sped off into the night, leaving Dean standing in the dust that billowed in its wake.


So there you have it.


1. Demons are - well, demons. They're assholes, with an affinity for lying and killing people. NEVER TRUST ONE. Here's what these sons of bitches look like:

They possess normal, innocent people like you and me, and then they do whatever the fuck they please. Usually the person ends up dead because of the demon's shenanigans. Demons can be exorcised out of a person, with the help of a Devil's Trap (which, you know, traps them) and an exorcism.

2. The tests that Dean did are as follows:

Cutting yourself with a silver knife proves you're not a shapeshifter, since shapeshifters (and a lot of other creatures like werewolves etc.) are allergic to silver. Holy water is not good for demons - they boil or something. Like, steam rises from wherever the water hits. It hurts, too. Leviathans (which are these creatures that eat people only they can't be killed by anything other than a nun's bone or something. Beheading slows them down, though. Hard to eat people without a head.) react badly to borax. And if you're not a vampire, you won't have fangs. Yeah.

For those unfamiliar with the badass that is Dean:

Chester and Mike's car:

Hope everything's clear. If not, ask away in the reviews :)

Let me know what you guys think. Reviewers get an Impala.

-Peace x

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