"This reminds me of the time we hunted that Wendigo and got stuck in a forest like this," Dean said, walking between the trees, eyes fixed on the dark woods ahead.
"Well, it also reminds me of the last time I got teleported into a forest and ended up looking like a damn beggar," Henry said, walking beside Sam.
"Neither of those were exactly a great experience, and this is worse. Our phones aren't working, we don't have the Colt, and we still don't know what we're dealing with," Sam said, slowing down, looking around.
He stopped beside a tree and pointed to a mark carved into the bark. "And we've been going in circles."
Dean walked over to check it. "You sure?"
"I made that mark earlier so we'd know which way we'd already been."
Dean looked around at the identical trees. "So we're lost?"
"Yeah."
"This is frustrating," Henry muttered, squinting through the fog.
The fog was making everything harder. His angelic senses were already restricted by whatever force surrounded the forest, and now he could barely sense anything beyond a short distance.
He wasn't ruling out the possibility that whatever was hiding out here could possess them.
Something tapped Dean on the shoulder.
"Henry, now's not really the time," Dean said, brushing the hand away without turning around.
He took another step before realizing Sam and Henry were both several feet ahead of him.
Dean stopped. Slowly looked down at the hand still resting on his shoulder. Then turned around.
A rotting corpse stood right behind him — clothes caked in dirt and decay, skin gray and torn away in patches, jaw hanging open as it stared at him.
Dean's eyes went wide. "Son of a bitch."
He kicked it square in the chest, knocking it backward into the leaves.
Sam and Henry spun around. "What happened?"
Dean pointed at the corpse as it started dragging itself upright again. "That thing was standing right behind me."
Sam's expression tightened as he reached for his knife. "Dead body?"
"Yeah, and it apparently has a thing for sneaking up on people."
Henry looked at it, then at Dean. "Well, as always, all things love you, Dean."
Dean didn't even bother laughing. He pulled his gun and fired straight into the corpse's forehead.
It dropped — but the silence didn't last. A low growl rose from it as it started dragging itself toward them through the leaves again.
Dean stared. "Okay, that's new." He looked at Sam. "Umm, Sam? Any idea what this is?"
Sam watched it carefully. "A dead body walking slowly?" He frowned. "Zombie?"
"Then how the hell did we not put it down?"
"I don't know, Dean. Don't look at me."
The corpse lunged again, but Henry caught it before it could reach them, grabbing it by the front of its rotten clothes and holding it in place as it growled and thrashed. He looked at it for a second.
"Yeah, we're not doing this." He threw it as hard as he could — the body flew through the trees and vanished into the darkness.
Henry turned back to the others. "Yeah, let's go."
Dean stared after it. "Works for me."
Sam nodded and followed them deeper into the woods, Dean checking over his shoulder the whole way to make sure the damn thing wasn't coming back.
Eventually they spotted a wooden cabin, a faint light glowing through the windows.
Dean slowed, eyeing the place. "This reminds me of those movies where some poor idiots find a cabin in the woods, go inside, and then everybody dies."
Henry wanted to point out just how accurate that was, but he wasn't in the mood. At this point he just wanted to find the damn book, figure out what had brought them here, and burn it before it caused more trouble.
They approached cautiously, watching the trees around them.
***
Inside, Ash Williams was having a very different kind of night.
He stood in the middle of the wooden room, shotgun clutched tight in his hands, eyes darting around in disbelief. The place was a wreck — furniture overturned, blood smeared across the walls and floor.
His friends had already turned against him.
One by one, the people who'd come to the cabin with him had become possessed, attacking him like they weren't human anymore. Ash had fought his way through them just trying to stay alive, and by now he wasn't sure he still had a grip on reality.
He raised the shotgun slowly, eyes on the doorway. "Come on..." His breathing was ragged as he tightened his grip. "Just stay the hell away from me."
Something moved outside.
Ash spun toward the window, shotgun following the motion.
Outside, Dean, Sam, and Henry had reached the front of the cabin.
Dean eyed the door. "Well, lights are on."
Sam glanced through a window. "Looks like somebody's inside."
Before he could say anything else, the cabin door flew open. A man came charging out, chainsaw roaring in his hand, screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran straight at them.
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
Henry barely had time to react before Ash closed the distance. He stepped forward and punched him square in the face, sending him crashing to the ground several feet away. The chainsaw slipped from Ash's hand and landed in the dirt, engine still roaring.
Dean stared at the scene for a second, then looked at Sam with a grin. "Wow. A chainsaw killer."
Sam gave him a look. "Dean, he just tried to cut us up."
"I know. I'm saying this place is getting better by the minute."
*****
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