Thru Terry's Eyes
rhythmic music throbbed through the dimly lit room.
Shafts of blue and red laser pierced the intimate darkness
and starbursts of spot lightning swept over the crowded
dance floor in time to the deep trembles of music so
loud it consumed the twisting figures locked in its
Bass vibrated the walls, floor and furniture, shifted
the glasses on the bar and tables ever so slightly and
thrummed across the skin of the dancers pressed against
each other in the limited space allotted for public
passing second the beat grew in intensity and speed,
the friction of heated flesh against heated flesh as
the dancers wound around each other, offering a teasing
promise that only time and luck might see fulfilled.
Matt had lost himself in the pulsing sounds. His tall,
leanly muscled body, dark hair and slightly exotic looks
that hinted at a mixed parentage, assured he would always
have a willing partner. He was especially pleased with
tonight’s choice. His eyes closed, enjoying the
feel of his body against hers, holding them both clasped
together at the hips with his hands. His partner, a
slim creature with long blonde hair and fingertips that
were dancing and drifting across the skin of his arms
in time with the music, likewise had her eyes closed.
The drag of her nails on his arms sped up his breathing
as the music built to a slow crescendo.
Across the floor, body draped languidly against the
bar, dark, up slanted eyes were watching as Matt shifted
and swayed with his blonde trophy, their bodies moving
as one. Elana’s tongue drifted across her red
lips as she studied him. Her chosen prize for the night.
A diamond sparked and glinted at the corner of each
eye. Silver dust shimmered across her olive skin, almost
nakedly on display in a low cut, high rise dress with
no back, composed of tiny sparkling silver discs that
hugged the fullness of the body contained within it.
Thin ropes of silver serpentine chain dangled from her
ears and strands of it wound around her wrists. Her
full lips, high slanted cheekbones and mane of long
dark red hair caused a sensation with every man who
looked at her while pretending he wasn’t. She
gave none of them a second glance. Her eyes were for
Matt alone and hunger stirred her body the longer she
Elana stretched out long fingers tipped in chrome polish
and plucked the cherry out of her drink. She slid it
between her lips, caressing the juice off of it then
slipped it back out of the prison of her mouth and began
to move toward Matt and his partner, cherry dangling
from her fingers. The eyes of several of the males at
the bar followed her movements with open mouths after
watching the cherry disappear and reappear. She undulated
through the dancers with surprising ease, adjusting
her body easily to accommodate the shifting crowd, every
movement a study of sinuous grace.
Matt and his partner had separated and were momentarily
facing away from each other. Moving closer, Elana insinuated
herself into the small space between the two dancers
and with a gentle pressure and the touch of her free
hand against his waist, used her body to move Matt away
from his partner.
Matt, enjoying the warm contact, turned and was surprised
to see a dark beauty in place of the blonde whose name
he didn’t know anyway. His confusion was short
lived and he smiled at this definite step up in the
evening’s plans, taking in the slow roll of her
body as she moved against him, brushing her lips with
the cherry as she watched him from under her lashes.
Her lips parted against the cherry’s flesh, revealing
small white teeth and she smiled back. His hands brushed
against her hips and they start to move with the music.
eyes were locked on that cherry as she parted her lips
enough to slide it in halfway between her teeth and
she stretched her face upwards to tease his lips with
the stem. Matt’s breathing quickened with every
tickle across his mouth and her eyes never left his
Finally, he caught the stem between his teeth, as close
to the cherry as he could get, their lips not quite
touching, looking at each other over the red fruit.
As the song ended she bit into the cherry and pressed
her lips against his, the sweet juice mingling with
their kiss. She pulled back from him, taking the rest
of the cherry with her and leaving him tonguing the
stem. Her head tilted slightly and she watched him from
the corners of her sparkling eyes. Chewing on the cherry
slowly, tongue lazily collecting juice from her lips,
looking up at him.
Matt swallowed and after two efforts, choked out. “Hi…”
* * * *
Moonlight lessened the darkness in Matt’s bedroom
as he lay shirtless on the bed, scarcely believing the
sight of this silver goddess straddling him, her hands
moving over his body with a skill and touch unlike anything
he had ever experienced. The trace of her nails on his
skin shot fire through his body. She leaned closer and
he drank in her scent, his body aching with need. He
didn’t know how much more of this he could stand.
She took his mouth with hers and he couldn’t stop
the groan that came out of him. His hands tangled in
her long auburn tresses and he pulled her tightly against
him as she undulated her body over his.
you want me?” her throaty voice a purr in his
ear. “I want you.”
“Oh, God….please…” he moaned
the words brokenly as she brushed her lips against his
ear, tongue flicking.
“Do you love me?” she whispered in his ear,
her hot breath against his skin a maddening sensation,
teasing him on. “Do you love me?” she whispered
hoarsely, over and over, more intensely with each repetition,
driving her own desire on, her hunger...
writhed helplessly beneath her, teetering on the edge
of insanity, gasping for breath. “God, yes I love
you!” he finally cried out, clutching desperately
at her body.
Elana cried out in return, her body arching back away
from him even as he sought to grasp it. Her head was
thrown back, arms crossed over her chest, hands grasping
opposite shoulders. Her breath rushed out as a deep
shuddering groan, drawing back in as a sizzling hiss.
Matt’s eyes snapped open at her sudden movement
away and he gaped in horrified disbelief at what he
saw before him. His mind was screaming but no sound
passed his lips. He no longer commanded his body and
lay there, paralyzed, as his body was squeezed tightly
with a slow, upwardly rolling persistence that caused
the blood in his body to pound in his skull and the
breath to rush from his lungs, leaving no room to draw
He could do nothing but lie there as the greenish drops
of liquid dripped onto his face, burning into his skin
like acid, with no way to vent the searing agony.
Through a superhuman effort he somehow managed to get
his mouth open and was trying to summon the strength
to scream. It was a mistake.
To Elana, hunger burning, the hot softness of Matt’s
open mouth was an invitation. She took it.
* * * *
Sam idly flipped through the seven channels on the TV
with the sound off, looking for anything interesting
to watch. It was six a.m. and he had been awake for
the last hour and a half. Sleep was successfully remaining
out of his reach and he finally tired of trying to capture
The room was airless, the A/C working spasmodically.
Sam had complained repeatedly but the unit simply refused
to respond to the manager’s clumsy repair efforts.
Sam was sweaty and uncomfortable and so tired of laying
in the bed he wanted to scream.
Two runs of channel surfing made it clear he would find
no relief there unless he wanted to watch infomercials
for exercise equipment for every specific part of the
human body or cartoons with cavorting dinosaurs. He
clicked it off.
Rubbing a hand over his face, sighing, he toyed with
getting on the laptop to do a little research but didn’t
want the tapping of the keyboard to disturb Dean, although
Sam doubted a solar flare blasting their room would
have awakened his brother at the moment.
over at Dean, out cold, face down on the bed next to
him, one arm dangling down, fingers touching the carpet,
covers kicked down over his feet. His pale face sparkled
with a fine sheen of sweat even though he wore nothing
but his boxers. There was a frown line between his eyebrows
but otherwise, he seemed to be sleeping fairly peacefully.
It had been a rough couple of days, especially for Dean.
They had intended to pass through Athens, Georgia two
days earlier, when Dean had become violently ill. The
sickness had come over him so suddenly they both assumed
it was some type of food poisoning. Considering the
type of places they generally ate, it was a wonder it
didn’t happen more often.
Continuing the journey was out of the question, so Sam
had located a suitably cheap motel as quickly as possible,
bundled Dean into one of the beds and hovered anxiously
over him. After more hours than he cared to think about
and just before he was ready to stuff Dean back in the
car and haul him to the hospital, Dean had finally stopped
throwing up, the fluids Sam coaxed into him started
to stay down and Dean had fallen into a restless sleep.
Sam was almost as exhausted as Dean and had ordered
some food delivered, eaten it and fallen into a dead
sleep, waking only to check on Dean from time to time.
Dean seemed to be doing better so he figured it was
a fair trade.
Dean shifted, groaning, as Sam watched. Dean’s
eyes blinked open and stared blearily at Sam. Drawing
in a deep breath, he lifted his hand to rub his eyes.
“Why you awake…?” Dean drawled in
a thick, hoarse voice. He yawned, which turned into
a stretch as he rolled onto his back.
“Woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep,”
Sam replied, tossing the remote to the end of his bed.
He flipped on the small bedside lamp. “How you
feelin’?” he asked, swinging his legs off
the bed and sitting up.
time is it?” Dean's eyes drifted shut again. He
coughed a little and cleared his throat, a hand brushing
across his stomach.
after six.” Sam moved to sit on the edge of Dean’s
bed. He rested the back of his hand on Dean’s
forehead. “How’s your stomach? Still feel
Dean knocked Sam’s hand away, rolling his head
to the side. He swallowed and took a quick stock of
himself. “Maybe a little…feel better than
I did.” He made a soft humming noise, looking
up at Sam through narrowed eyes. “Did I ask you
to shoot me?” he asked, recalling a vague memory.
Sam laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah,” he
shrugged. “I figured you really didn’t mean
Dean moved his head in a negative, grimacing. “Trust
me, I meant it at the time.” He rubbed his hands
over his face. He felt sticky and uncomfortable. “I
hope it’s really hot in here and not just me.”
“A/C’s bad. Works off and on. Sorry.”
Sam shrugged again. “Didn’t have a lot of
motel choices at the time.” Sam got up and ran
a fresh glass of water for Dean, tossing the remaining
ice into it.
himself up, leaning against the headboard, and gratefully
took the glass. “Thanks.” He took a few
small sips, relishing the cooling sensation in his throat
but mindful of his still edgy stomach. “How long
have we been here?” Dean looked around the little
room. He held the sweating water glass to his temple.
“Speaking of which. Where is here?“ He had
no memory whatsoever of where they had been at the time
he became ill.
“Two days. Athens, Georgia,” Sam replied.
“We’d just hit town when you got sick.”
“Oh, yeah,” Dean grunted. He ruffed his
sweaty hair, making a face. “God, I feel gross,
I need to take a shower.” He took another sip
of water and gave Sam a small push to get him off the
Sam eyed Dean suspiciously but got to his feet. “You
sure you’re up to it? ” he asked. “You
were really sick, Dean. Maybe you should take it easy
Dean moved his legs off the bed, sitting the rest of
the way up. The room swayed a little and he pressed
his hands to his eyes until it stopped. Sam reached
out a hand, Dean smacked it away.
“I feel better, Sam.” Dean snapped impatiently.
“Seriously, dude. Just give me a minute.”
Dean was surprised at how weak he was, and his stomach
muscles were very sore, but he felt better over all.
He got to his feet and moved carefully toward the bathroom,
using the wall as support, aware that Sam’s eyes
followed him every step of the way.
The hot shower worked wonders and he stepped out of
the bathroom feeling better than he had for a while.
He had been disgusted to find his hands were shaking
too much to shave so he blew that off and slowly pulled
on his clothes. He sat quietly on the bed to rest a
few minutes before he pulled his boots on but Sam wisely
let him be. Just cast a watchful eye Dean’s way
from time to time.
By the time Dean was dressed and Sam had also taken
a quick shower and dressed it was 7:30a.m. Dean had
lain back on the bed while Sam got ready and was surprised
when Sam shook his leg gently to waken him.
“Hey,” Sam said. “Do you think you
can eat something? You could stay here and I’ll
go get something and bring it back.” Sam had the
Impala keys in one hand.
Dean shook his head, trying to clear the fog. “No,
I’m okay. Let’s go. I could use some air,
it’s too hot in here.” He sat up after a
brief struggle to get his bearings, opened his mouth
and reached for the keys.
Sam pulled them out of reach, cutting him off. “Don’t
even think about it. Not until you’re a lot steadier
on your feet.” Sam fisted the keys and opened
under his breath but gave in just because he did feel
really shaky. He followed Sam out to the car and slid
into the passenger side of the Impala.
It was a brightly sunny day with a light breeze, much
cooler outside than the stifling room.
“Do you care if we drive down by the University?”
Sam asked a trifle reluctantly as he started the car.
Inwardly, Dean groaned but he owed Sam for the last
couple of days, which couldn’t have been much
fun for Sam either.
“Wherever you want, bro.” Dean replied magnanimously.
He rolled down the window to get the wind in his face,
leaned his head back against the seat and closed his
Sam smiled and headed toward the buildings he could
see in the distance that had to be the school.
had driven for a short while to look around a little.
This early in the morning, on a Saturday, the sidewalks
were fairly empty. The streets along the old down town
area were spilled over with bars, small cafes and restaurants.
They passed several cafés with tables on the
sidewalk and a few solitary early risers drinking coffee,
eating rolls and doing their laptop magic.
Sam enjoyed the charm of the old sprawling houses that
had been converted into apartments, frat and sorority
houses, the shady, tree lined streets and the general
scholarly feel. Dean wasn’t impressed with the
atmosphere, but wasn’t surprised that Sam had
gravitated to it.
the car in a central lot and they walked the short distance
to one of the sidewalk tables with large maple trees
“This okay?” Sam asked, resting a hand on
the back of one of the wrought iron chairs.
Dean grinned to himself. Frankly, the short walk had
done him in and he just wanted to sit down anywhere.
“It’s fine, Sam.” He sank gratefully
onto the chair and sighed. Sam sat down across from
him and picked up the menu on the table.
“You all right?” Sam asked, as Dean rested
his head in his hands.
“Nothing coffee and a sugar hit won’t fix,”
“You guys are out early!” A pert voice said
at Dean’s elbow. They both looked up to see a
young woman with an order pad and large blue eyes standing
beside their table. Her dark hair was tied into a long,
bouncy ponytail and she wore tight black shorts that
showed off long tanned legs. Sam took one look at her
and knew her bust size was larger than her IQ. Just
the way Dean liked ‘em. A walking, talking, blow
Dean’s eyes moved up and down her long form appreciatively,
lighting up for the first time in days, and he managed
to pull a brilliant smile out of his trick bag and offer
it to her.
“Well, hi there...” he said, eyeing her
ID badge, “…Ashley. I’m Dean and if
I’d known you were here, I would’ve been
Ashley laughed, tapping her pen against her lips. “You
know, that’s not much of a line.”
Dean shrugged with an eyebrow, looking down briefly.
“Sorry, I’ve been sick. I’m outta
practice. You know anyone that could help me with that?”
He traced his fingertip across the top of the table
and rolled his eyes up at her without raising his head.
Ashley laughed again.
Sam rolled his eyes.
his mouth to say something else to make her laugh, but
a shrill scream from down the street turned them all
to stare in the direction of the sound as a girl came
shrieking down the steps of one of the old homes and
ran straight into the street, right into the path of
an approaching truck.
Sam and Dean both jumped up before they heard the thud
of the girl’s body as the pickup struck her, brakes
screeching. The vehicle wasn’t going that fast
and it was a glancing blow but it still knocked her
sideways onto the pavement. Sam ran toward her followed
by Dean and the waitress he’d been flirting with.
Sam stopped the girl from getting up. She was crying
and shrieking in hysterics. She didn’t appear
to be badly hurt but he knew she needed to stay quiet
until help came.
“My God! Oh, my God!!” was all she kept
The driver, a young kid, eighteen or so, stood horrified,
wringing his hands. “I didn’t see her!”
he cried. “She ran right in front of me!”
Dean, breathing heavily after the run, caught the kid’s
shoulder. “Chill, man, it wasn’t your fault.
It’s okay. It was an accident.”
Sam was trying to calm the girl. Her hysterics were
starting to draw the interest of the few people around.
Ashley knelt next to her with an arm around her and
began to talk soothingly. Sam’s opinion of her
rose as he realized he might have misjudged her.
Sam got to his feet and eased over to Dean. “Something
in that house scared the crap out of her.” Sam
“No argument there,” Dean agreed.
He and Sam exchanged looks and quickly crossed over
to the house the girl had run out of. They walked up
the wide steps and across the porch, pausing on either
side of the open front door.
“What are we looking for?” Sam hissed, hand
in his jacket for the .45 he kept there.
“Damned if I know. I guess we’ll know it
when we see it.” He palmed his own gun and stepped
through the doorway. The adrenaline rush wasn’t
doing his stomach any good, but he tried to ignore it
as he moved into the foyer and looked left and right.
Several people were standing at the top of the stairs
in robes and various stages of dress.
“What’s going on?” a heavy set blonde
girl demanded, as Dean hastily shoved his gun back into
“There was an accident, “ Sam replied smoothly.
“Some girl came out of the house and a truck hit
her as she was crossing the street.”
There was a chorus of gasps and some of the watchers
thudded down the stairs and out the front door. The
remainder shuffled back toward their apartments, curiosity
Sam glanced at Dean and shook his head. Dean moved on
down the short hallway to the right of the staircase
where he saw an open door, Sam following on his heels.
He paused at the door, then followed as Sam cautiously
entered the open apartment.
It was neatly furnished, not opulently, but pleasant.
A pair of boots had been kicked across the floor, a
blue shirt lay on the ground between them, leading to
what Sam assumed was the bedroom.
It was a few short steps across the combination living
area/kitchen to the next room. Sam glanced at Dean,
who nodded, gun at ready, as they flanked the door.
Sam crossed the threshold into the bedroom, looked around
swiftly, and stopped dead. He couldn’t help the
soft noise he made, the gun falling slowly to his side.
Dean blundered into Sam as he stopped.
“What are you doing, man--“ Dean broke off
as he pushed past Sam and saw into the bedroom.
Sam, at a loss for words, gestured loosely with his
gun. “I think we found what we were looking for.”
“What the hell?” Dean murmured, looking
past Sam. He gagged suddenly, making a face.
Sam leaned in and very gently touched the muzzle of
his gun to the shriveled figure on the bed. It made
a sound like paper rubbing together. His lips curled
back in distaste as he took a really long look at what
lay on the bed.
The discolored, twisted body was half covered by a blanket.
Whatever had happened had to have been terrible. The
body was arched upwards, frozen in a position that suggested
great agony, arms splayed tautly out to the sides, hands
clawed so tightly into the sheets the fingers had torn
through the fabric and were buried to the knuckles in
the mattress. The body’s head was thrown as far
back as was possible, mouth open widely, exposing all
the teeth, a withered tongue curled over the lips.
wasn’t as strange as the fact that the body appeared
so desiccated, every muscle, sinew and piece of skin
had shrunk into the bones to the point it seemed as
though the papery thin skin was just a casing that held
it all together. A mummy would have retained more humanity
in it’s final form than this piece of human jerky
“You ever see anything like this before?’
Sam asked. He put the gun away and pulled out his cell
phone, opening it up to take some photos. Dean didn’t
reply. Sam turned to look at him. Dean’s eyes
were closed, the back of his hand pressed over his mouth.
Sam grabbed him as he swayed on his feet, Dean grabbing
back to break his fall. Sam kicked a chair over and
clumsily settled Dean in it.
“Put your head down.” Sam ordered pushing
Dean’s head to his knees. Dean was far from squeamish
but Sam had to admit that after the last two days even
Dean was entitled to a momentary weak stomach.
Dean hung there, head buried in his arms, waiting for
the nausea to pass. “Man…” He groaned.
“This is not how I wanted to start my day…”
“You really shoulda stayed in bed,” Sam
agreed. “Sit tight and let me get these shots
and then we need to get the hell outta here before someone
else comes or the cops show up.” He went back
to getting shots from different angles and close-ups.
As the dizziness passed, Dean straightened slightly
and reached out, moving some of the papers on the desk
with a pen from his pocket. Mostly unopened mail with
the same name, Matt Lewis. There were several matchbooks
with iridescent covers. He pulled one to the edge of
the desk. It fell before he could grab it and he leaned
forward to pick it up off the floor where it lay sparkling
in a shaft of sunlight.
Dean’s eyes followed the streak of sunlight shooting
across the floor as he snagged the matchbook. He squinted
at several shiny spots near the edge of the floor register
under the desk that looked like thin bits of plastic.
He was puzzled by the fact that the cover for the fl;oor
vent itself had been pulled out of the opening and pushed
to one side.
Frowning, he leaned forward out of the chair, getting
on his hands and knees and reaching under the desk for
one of the tiny flashy bits. It stuck to his finger
and he brought it into the light for a closer look.
“Dean? Are you okay?” Sam’s anxious
voice startled Dean as his brother knelt beside him.
out the small flake, balanced on his fingertip. “Yeah,
I’m fine. Whadaya make of that? There’s
a bunch of them by the vent down here.”
Sam studied the small object with puzzlement. It was
sort of triangular in shape, translucent, delicately
tipped in black. There was a reflective sparkle to it
where the light hit it.
Sam’s head jerked toward the door as he heard
a siren in the distance. He grabbed an envelope off
the desk and shoved it at Dean. “Put ‘em
in there. It’s time to go!”
Dean brushed the other flakes into the envelope and
backed out from under the desk.
The siren screamed to a halt out front and Sam and Dean
shot back through the apartment door and down the short
hall to the next apartment where there was an opening
under the stairs.
They could see the flash of a paramedic van in the street
and two police cruisers sliding up next to it. A fair
sized crowd had assembled. After speaking with the injured
girl briefly two police officers came through the front
door, moving quickly into the living room of the apartment
Sam and Dean had just vacated.
It was easy to mingle into the small crowd that had
accompanied the cops inside and work their way out of
Dean turned as they walked away, catching a glimpse
of Ashley. She was standing next to the girl as the
paramedic treated her. He was disappointed when she
didn’t look their way.
“What the hell would cause something like that?”
Sam exclaimed, reclaiming Dean’s attention.
“Huh?” Dean replied.
“That body? What could do something like that?”
Sam repeated, looking over his shoulder to see where
Dean had been looking. He saw the waitress’s dark
pony tail bobbing as she spoke with the paramedic. Sam
grinned. Dean was definitely feeling better. “You
wanta go get her number?” Sam nudged him. “After
what we just saw, I think we’ll be around for
a few days.”
Dean glanced back again, surprised to see Ashley raise
herself up to look over the heads of the people around
her. She was obviously looking for something. He tightened
his lips and shook his head. “Nah, I can always
find a girl if I want one. Unlike some people I know,”
he added, with a small grin, giving Sam a push.
“Very funny. Ha ha,” Sam said woodenly.
“Well, I want to get on the laptop and see what
I can find about this.” He waved his cell phone.
“Let’s grab some food and go back to the
room. I think you’ve had enough excitement this
morning. You can rest after you get some food into you.”
“I’m not five, Sam. I don’t need a
nap.” God, the walk back to the car seemed to
be taking forever.
he got back into the Impala, Dean looked back down the
street to see Ashley walking toward the café
where she worked. He lingered by the door, watching
her, drawing in a small breath as she suddenly stopped
and looked straight at him. She smiled and raised her
hand slightly in a small wave. Dean felt his fingers
straighten in an answering wave before he realized what
he was doing.
“C’mon, Dean, get in!” Sam’s
voice drew his eyes and when he looked back up, she
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