Supernatural

 

Dean Winchester wakes up to find himself laying on a cold cement floor. A single light hangs above him, illuminating the area. His hands, wrists, ankles & mouth are all bound tight with duct tape. Laying next to him in a similar fashion are numerous familiar faces from the Supernatural cast & crew. Dean’s eyes widen with panic upon realizing how real & serious his situation now is.

Wicked laughter, that Dean is unfamiliar with, can be heard emanating around them. Winchester’s eyes search frantically to identify where the noise is coming from. The laughter grows louder & more ominous. I materialize in my chosen immortal form in front of the faggot coward. I can see the fear of God in Jensen Ross Ackels’ eyes. I flash a sinister smile & continue to snigger at him.

“Not so tough now, are ya, Dean?”

Panicked breathing is the only response he can muster. My captives all wriggle & squirm on the floor. I look over at Mark Ross Pellegrino, one of my imposters, who then pisses & shits himself in fear catching my notice.

“You are in a lot of trouble, Mark.”

My focus shifts over to Jared Tristan Padalecki.

“So are you, Sam.”

Padalecki squirms even more with fright. I look over at the writer & producer of Supernatural, Eric Kripke. Kripke the Kike seems to appreciate his newfound situation as much as I appreciate his shitty storytelling.

“Eric, you have a very painful eternity headed your way.”

Muffled terrified noises can be heard from the talentless Jew. I turn my attention to Robert Patrick Benedict next.

“You too, Rob.”

Loud, gross flatulent noises can be heard from “God” as he defecates himself in terror. Ackles looks over to see the man who played his father, Jeffery Dean Morgan, not too far away. John Winchester looks back at his son, mortified. I materialize a baseball bat wrapped with barbed wire in my hand then look at Morgan. I tap him on the top of his head with the blunt object.

“Negan, you remember Lucille.”

John Winchester’s panicked breathing intensifies. A moment later I beat the Illuminati actor into a puddle of blood & pulp with the same weapon he that he had used on others. A wave of terror washes over the rest of the people present. I turn my attention next to Mark Andreas Sheppard. He shits himself worse than Rob Benedict.

“Crowley, you are in so much goddamn trouble now it isn’t even funny.”

Crowley’s muffled screams of terror are music to my ears. I wrap my gigantic grip around the ankles of the false king of hell and slam him into the cold, hard ground repeatedly, with ease. A bloody mess is all that remains, along with the stubs of his legs.

I cast the remains of Crowley to the floor then squat down next to Dean. His eyes are as large as saucers. I sniff the air, then grab him by his chin & turn his face towards mine. I can sense the fear surging down his spine & coursing through his veins. Jensen Ackles is now in a cold sweat.

“You’re home, Dean. Salutations from Hell.”