Supernatural: Night Terror Read Online Free PDF

to brace the staircase, it was unable to support his full weight. The tread beneath his feet cracked down the middle, separating from the riser. As he jumped up to the next step, he heard a sharp crack and saw the top tread separating from the front wall. Sam lunged toward the exit—
    —and struck an invisible barrier.
    He pressed his hand against what appeared to be a glass barrier, several inches thick. After pounding his fists against the glass to no effect, he rammed his shoulder against it and almost fell off the teetering staircase. Catching his balance he pressed his back against the transparent barrier and tried to push it out of the way. His gaze dropped to the center of the root cellar where a whirlpool of sand sank into darkness.
    Suddenly the staircase collapsed under him.
    Falling, he flung out an arm and caught the shattered wooden framework, clinging to the wood as if it were a life preserver in the swirling ocean of sand. Soon he was caught in the current, cycling around and down, ever closer to the darkness that would consume him—
    “Whoa!”
    Sam sat up on the motel bed, heart racing as he tried to remember where he was. Middle of the night, but cold light cast from the motel parking lot sliced through a gap in the curtains and split the room in half. On the other side, he saw Dean propped up against his headboard. Too dark to tell if his brother was awake.
    “Dean?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Ribs?”
    “Waiting for the aspirin to kick in.”
    “Right.”
    “Bad dream?”
    “That obvious?”
    “Case of the three a.m. shakes,” Dean said. “Had a doozy myself. Terrifying.”
    “Really?” Sam had the unsettling idea that Dean had witnessed Sam’s dream. Or had the same dream. They’d seen stranger things. “What about?”
    Sam listened with a growing incredulity.
    “...and to top it off,” Dean finished. “I was trapped there with that guy.”
    “ That was your terrifying nightmare?” Sam scoffed.
    “All the beer, Sam. In the world. Gone! ”
    “Wow.”
    “What? Tell me yours was worse?”
    “No—I—no,” Sam said. Actually, he was relieved that Dean didn’t know what had plagued his subconscious. As it was, Dean thought his brother’s psyche was too fragile. No need to add fuel to that fire. “It was—was fine.”
    Dean’s demeanor changed. He climbed off the bed with a soft grunt of pain, and walked toward Sam, the slice of light momentarily painting a swath of illumination across his concerned expression.
    “Sam, if this is something serious, maybe I oughta know about it.”
    “Look, Dean, I get it. You’re worried about me. But this is... nothing. Really. Nothing at all. Okay, man?”
    “Then tell me.”
    “It was the Mime, all right? I was back in Gillmer’s root cellar.” At least that part was true. “Too close to the clown thing.”
    “Stealth clowns,” Dean said, nodding. “Right.”
    “You don’t sound convinced.”
    “No. I’m convinced. But that don’t mean we should forget you have a wall inside your head keeping a hell storm of memories bottled up.”
    “Dude, do you seriously think I’d forget about the wall in my mind?”
    “No. You’re right. Thing about a scab is, you pick at it.”
    “I’m not picking at anything,” Sam said in exasperation.
    “I was sleeping. Dreaming. That’s normal, right? Something I couldn’t do when my soul was MIA.” Sam took a deep breath. “It’s not like I can control my dreams.”
    Dean thought about it for a moment and nodded. “But, you notice any cracks in the wall, you tell me. Right?”
    “Sure, Dean.”
    In the dim lighting, Sam couldn’t tell if his brother believed him.
    A cell phone rang.
    Dean grabbed his jacket, pulled out his mobile and glanced down at the display.
    “Bobby,” he told Sam and answered the call.

THREE

    “You boys up for a drive to Colorado?” Bobby Singer asked in Dean’s ear. Dean punched a button to put him on speaker.
    “Machete Mime’s in our rearview. What’s in