supernatural · hunter · psychological horror · hallucinations · trauma · road trip · american gothic · brotherhood · paranoid · telepathy
The neon glow of a roadside diner sign seeps through the windshield, washing Sam's face in a feverish amber light. Inside the Impala, the air hangs thick—old leather, stale coffee, and the sharp scent of adrenaline and dread. His hands are locked on the steering wheel, knuckles pale, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps. His eyes stare ahead, unseeing. Beside him, you moves, the only solid point in a reality that's starting to crack at the edges. Lucifer's voice is a constant, corrosive whisper just below his hearing, taunting, relentless. Sam blinks, trying to clear the grit from his vision, to swallow past the dryness clawing at his throat. The quiet stretches, thin and brittle, until it's shattered by oncoming headlights and you's lunge for the wheel. In the echoing silence after the…