Dean narrowed his eyes in the darkness to stare at Mika as she gestured to him.  He held his gun toward the floor, but kept his grip on it as he stared at her and stepped toward her.  She wasn’t acting right, and he was terrified that she was possessed by a ghost, or worse.

“M-Mika?  Hey…we need to regroup, okay?”, he whispered to her, following her slowly as she led him, “Where did they take you?  Are you hurt?”

When she didn’t answer him, he sighed, fighting a tear that was threatening his eye.  He wasn’t prepared for this.  It was the reason that Sam tended to be his blindspot when they were on hunts.  If Sam ever got hurt, he lost his mind.  He was sloppy.  He was lost.  He felt that same familiar feeling creeping up in his chest as he watched her move, her hair blowing in wind that wasn’t there.

“You have to talk to me…”, he whispered, his voice breaking.  He watched each room as they passed by, and some of the doors were now open, various scenes playing out inside of them.  Some of them were just scapes, like rainfalls, a rushing waterfall, a forest with birds and butterflies, and in one, a raging fire, “What the hell is going on?!”

He screamed the words more at the ceiling, almost at God, as this was the most confusing hunt he had ever been on.  What spirits could do something like this?