[s11e1] Out Of The Darkness, Into The | Fire

Dean swung a tire iron, the metal clanging against her skull, but she didn't drop. It took three more hits to ground her. He stood over her, chest heaving. "These aren't demons, Sammy. They’re 'Rabids.'"

Suddenly, a woman emerged from the ditch, her movements jerky and unnatural. Her skin was a map of dark lines, and when she looked at them, there was no humanity left—only a primal, screaming hunger. She lunged.

"We didn't have a choice," Dean snapped, though the conviction was hollow.

The first body they found was slumped against a road sign. Then another near a rusted-out truck. These weren't demonic kills or angel smitings. The victims were covered in black, veiny growths, their eyes wide and vacant, as if their very souls had been vacuumed out.

The black smoke that had roared across the landscape was gone, leaving behind a stillness that felt like a trap. Dean wiped a smear of blood from his forehead, his eyes darting to the tree line. He could still feel the phantom touch of the woman in the black dress, the Mark of Cain gone from his arm but the weight of her words settled deep in his marrow. "Sam," Dean rasped, his voice cracking. "You okay?"