Another Human.

Dean fell from the sky with terrifying speed, yet a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wouldn't die- he knew that much. He hoped. Yet, the certainty of severe Injury gnawed at him.

As he plummeted, his body twisted slightly, the howling wind ripping past him. Just seven feet above the ground. Dean exhaled sharply, bracing for impact. He could feel the cold wind gnawing at his skin, the dread of what was to come settling into his spine. But he shoved it down, gritting his teeth as he curled into a ball. This is going to hurt like hell, but I've survived worst. This... this is nothing. Dean tried to comfort himself, singing what seemed like mantras in his head.

Frantic horrifying thoughs slammed onto the walls of his mind, each one more brutal than the last.

His eyes flashed in horror as he crashed with a bone-shattering thud, his body tumbling violently across the ground. Pain. Agonizing pain rippled through him as his bones snapped and his flesh tore. Blood splattered the ground as his body ricocheted off walls and doors, his vision blurring with each impact.

Dean coughed up blood, the metallic tang flooding his mouth. The world around him shifted between an endless black void and a white haze. He knew he couldn't afford to give in- not here, not now. He fought desperately against the urge to close his eyes, biting his lips until he tasted blood. His mind teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, but he willed himself to stay awake.

Finally, after slamming through a dark door, his battered body came to a halt. Kneeling on the cold floor, blood poured from the gaping wounds that riddled his body. He could barely move, but somehow, he was alive. Barely. He could barely withstand the horrific pain that rippled through him. It was painful. Hellish painful. He wanted it to end. It had to.

The world around him grew darker as his vision wavered. The cold, icy grasp of death inching closer. But he wasn't willing. He wasn't willing to let go. He had come this far. He'd come too far to die now.

His fingers dug into the cobblestones beneath him, his nails breaking as he clawed at the ground, gasping for breath. Each ragged inhalation brought more blood to his thought, but he still fought. He fought to stay conscious.

There and then, a bitter expression tugged at the corner of his face. The weight of despair boring down on him. But he wasn't ready to die. Not yet.

He had already come this far. He was unwilling, he was unwilling to start all over, again.

Why!! Why is life so unfair!! He had broken down completely, his mental strength broken beyond redemption as tears mingled with blood streamed down the corner of his eyes, as darkness crept into the edges of his vision.

He fought to gasp for air, but failed woefully. Every inhalation and exhalation only brought forth- blood riddled coughs.

Darkness slowly encroached upon his mind. His body screamed in agony, his soul teetering on the brink of death. For a moment, it all seemed so pointless. The endless cycle of death, the torment, the suffering - it was all too much.

GASSSSP!!!!

Dean gasped, his eyes flaring with a powerful icy blue light as memories of his previous deaths flooded in. Pain and agony rippled through him. Dread and fear clawing at him. He clutched his head, trying to block out the horrors, but the torment was relentless. And he was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of the scars from the never-ending cycle of death, tired of the unending torments. He was tired of it all.

His tears came freely now, his sobs echoing in the desolate silence around him as he resisted the urge to scream to the heavens.

There and then, through the haze of pain, agony even that rippled through him. Something caught his attention. A glimpse of hope piercing through the endless darkness encroaching upon his mind, slowly pulling him back. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He staggered to his feet, his heart pounding hard and fast.

Had he really died? He was confused, shock even. Was he back again? But... Something was off. Confusion slowly crept in, dread even.

This wasn't the haunted house he remembered. His gaze shifted towards the shattered door he had crashed through. T-his place... this place was different. Fear gnawed at him- nothing good ever came from hope in this cursed land- numerous resets had taught him this.

What exactly is going on? Dread, and fear slowly crept at him, his eyes flashing with a peculiar wariness.

Perhaps this is all just an illusion? Maybe this is what my mind wants to believe. A bitter laughter escaped his lips. An endless darkness inching closer and closer, slowly overwhelming his mind.

Just when it seemed like Dean would really lose it, a defening crash suddenly echoed through the air. A bile of lump surged to his throat, his heart pounding hard against his ribs as he instinctively dove to the side. Peering through the cracks in the ruined building he hid behind.

There, he saw something that made his eyes shrink in fear, and hope

The skin. The face. T- This was someone like him. There is another human in this cursed land. He wasn't alone. He wasn't.

Tears of relief welled in Dean's eyes as he watched the old man battle a towering supernatural creature. Its form was monstrous, indescribable - an abomination sculpted straight out of what seemed like his worst nightmares. Yet the old man stood firm, wielding a strange dark light that made the impossible seem effortless.

Dean's heart raced. This was his chance- perhaps, his way out. He bolted toward the battle, adrenaline surging through his veins. He had to take the risk. He had to. He couldn't let this opportunity slip past him.

But before he could reach the battlefield, it was over. The old man severed the creature's head with a blur of motion, blood spraying across the ground. Dean crouched behind a ruined wall, gasping for breath, heart pounding against his ribs. He watched as the old man collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood.

Instinct almost took over him as he surged forth to help the old man, but logic held him back. No doubt, the old man's battle with the dead supernatural creature would have alarmed other powerful monstrosities within the depths of this cursed land.

The old man might survive an onslaught from various supernatural creatures, but the same couldn't be said for him. Just as various chaotic thoughts slammed onto the walls of his mind, debating his next move.

A soft, yet icy cold voice sliced through the air.

"You can come out, kid."

Dean froze for a second there, dread settling into his bones.

Yet he knew there was no use hiding. He knew had no choice. His heart pounded in his chest. And with clenched hands and hardened resolve, he stepped out from the shadows, as he slowly walked towards the old man. Knowing full well that his fate now lies in the hands of the fragile, old man before him.