Cold Oak's wind was filled with dust, pouring into the broken windows of the abandoned house, picking up yellowed newspaper scraps on the ground, and hitting Sam's body. In the corner where the wall peeled off, mold stains covered the damp wall. Dean was leaning against the door frame, his back pressed against the cold wood, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Bai Haorui squatted next to Sam, his fingertips pressed against the other person's already cold carotid artery, and his other hand held a piece of Life-Extending Talisman painted with cinnabar mixed with his own essence and blood. The talisman paper glowed with a faint red light, like a candle in the wind. No matter how he urged True Qi in his body, Grandpa would The remaining Daoist mental skills were operating to the extreme, and the red light seemed to hit an invisible wall, unable to penetrate even Sam's skin. In the end, the talisman turned into ashes with a "chi" sound, and landed lightly on Sam's chest, leaving not even a trace, leaving only a very faint smell of burnt smell, mixed with the dead air in the room.
Bai Haorui's Adam's apple rolled, and he knew that this was not the power of Azazel - that power was too overbearing and supreme, like an eye overlooking all living beings, holding Sam's soul firmly, and no one was allowed to interfere., no one is allowed to tamper with the established "script". The system had given him the final warning a long time ago. At that time, he had just followed Winchester Brothers to trace the clues of Special Children, and the two of them were squatting in Roadhouse's room to study Ash's information, the system's urgent alarm suddenly exploded in the sea of consciousness, and the sharp buzzing almost tore his consciousness. "Warning! The supreme will has been detected to lock the host! The host is a world variable, and the target correction host is with Sam·Winchester's fate track, erase the risk level SSS!" Since then, the system has been completely silent. Bai Haorui knows that it has used all its remaining power to protect his soul body to prevent him from being erased by that "screenwriter"-like existence, like an eraser.
"Hey, don't worry about it yet." Bobby pushed open the door with fried chicken and whiskey. His heavy military boots stepped on the floor, making a dull sound. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with the oily aroma of fried chicken barely overcame the dead air in the room. He looked at Sam landed on the ground, with a trace of unbearability flashing in his cloudy eyes. He sighed and put the things in his hands on the table full of scratches and stains. "The fried chicken is your favorite spicy flavor, and the whiskey is an old brand. Take a few sips."
Dean turned around suddenly, his movements were as fast as an enraged beast, his eyes were frighteningly scarlet, filled with despair and madness. "Toss? He is my brother! I can't let him die in this damn place!" His voice was hoarse and choked, and every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat. The dog tag in his hand was clenched, "I promised dad that I would take good care of him! I promised!"
Bai Haorui put away the talisman ash, twisted the black powder between his fingertips, and his voice was hoarse. "The talisman has failed, Azazel's power is suppressing it, and the life-extending spell can change your life against the will of heaven. It's not that easy." He didn't tell the truth, he didn't dare to tell, he didn't dare to tell Dean. This death was a script. They were just pawns on the chessboard, and they didn't even have the qualifications to resist.
Dean pushed Bai Haorui away with such force that he staggered back two steps and hit the wall. He stumbled and squatted next to Sam, and his knees hit the floor with a thud. He stretched out his hand and touched Sam's cheek with trembling fingers. The touch was cold. Bone-piercing "When you were five years old, you were afraid of the dark, so you climbed into my bed and squeezed to sleep, saying that if you hold me, brother, the devil will come to catch me..." He murmured to himself, his voice getting lower and lower, his tears mixed with the whiskey he just drank, hitting Sam's clothes, leaving a small dark mark, "I promised to protect you, I screwed up, I fucking screwed up..."
Bai Haorui looked at his collapse, and his heart tightened. He clutched Five Emperor Coins in his pocket, the copper coins were slippery with the sweat in his palms, and the cold touch spread through his skin to the bottom of his heart. He knew very well. Dean, Sam is his lifeblood, the whole meaning of his life. As long as Sam can be brought back to life, let alone Hell, even if he is asked to die immediately, he will not frown.
Bobby patted Bai Haorui on the shoulder. His palm was rough and had the warmth of calluses. He handed over a bottle of water and said in a low voice, "Please advise him not to get into trouble. In this world, not everything can be solved by brute force."
Bai Haorui shook his head, his eyes locked on Dean's stooped back, watching him bury his face in Sam's neck, his shoulders shaking violently. "It's useless, you know it Dean--Sam is his fate." He thought silently, just wait, wait until the dark wind at the crossroads blows, wait until the smell of sulfur from the contract fills the air, then this destined tragedy will truly begin.
In the forest camp outside Cold Oak, the campfire crackled and sparks splashed in the dark night. Jake, who was let go by the three people, sat on the log with his knees in his arms, holding a slightly rubbed picture in his hand. In the wrinkled family photo, his wife is smiling like a flower, and his daughter is wearing braids, throwing herself in his arms. His leg is wrapped in a dirty bandage, and dark red blood stains ooze out. Every time he moves, it hurts, and his forehead is covered with cold sweat.
The firelight suddenly distorted, and a pungent smell of sulfur filled the air. A Yellow Eyes man's figure appeared beside the campfire without any warning. Azazel put his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, with a half-smile at the corner of his mouth. His voice was like a poisonous snake's letter, licking Jake's eardrums. "Congratulations, kid, you survived in the end."
Jake stood up suddenly, a sharp pain in his legs made him stagger. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white, and his eyes were filled with hatred, as if he was about to spit out fire. "I killed Sam, you should let my family go! You promised me!"
"Let go?" Azazel seemed to have heard some big joke. He sneered, walked up to Jake, and patted his shoulder. The temperature of his fingertips was icy cold, like ice cubes sticking to his skin. "Do you think I will keep my promise? Human Promises, in the eyes of the devil, are worthless." He paused, and his tone suddenly turned sinister, "Your mother and sister are looking at the 'gifts' I gave them - a few cute Soul Eaters, lying beside their beds, waiting to have a taste of fresh souls."
Jake's face turned pale in an instant, and all the blood faded. The photo in his hand fell to the ground with a "pop" and slipped into the edge of the bonfire, where it was roasted and curled up. Azazel bent down to pick up the photo, and traced the with his fingertips. Jake's wife's face and eyes were full of fun. "What a beautiful woman, what a lovely child. It's a pity that if you don't obey, they will eat your own internal organs with their own hands. In endless pain, they won't be able to die even if they want to."
Jake was trembling all over, his teeth were clenching, and his tears fell into the bonfire, making a sizzling sound and rising up a small plume of white smoke. He looked at the smiling face in the photo, thinking of his daughter's soft voice calling daddy, and his wife. The smell of the hot soup reminded me of the warm scene of a family gathered around the dining table. His shoulders slumped, as if all his Bones and strength had been taken away. His voice was filled with a cry of despair, "What do you want me to do?"
Azazel showed a satisfied smile, and a glimmer of ambition flashed in Yellow Eyes's eyes. He pointed in the direction of Wyoming, with an unquestionable command in his tone, "Go to Cowboy Cemetery, there is a Hell's Gate there. Use Colt gun, open it. You are the last Special Children, and only you can activate the mechanism." He leaned close to Jake's ear, his voice was low, like the temptation of a poisonous snake, "Remember, don't play tricks. Otherwise, you will see your family turn into the monster you fear most."
Jake picked up the photo and carefully wiped off the dust and scorch marks on it. His fingertips were trembling violently. His eyes became hollow, like a pool of stagnant water, without any waves anymore. He turned and walked towards the car, his back stooped, like a walking corpse whose soul had been taken away, and every step was as heavy as dragging a thousand kilograms of weight.
Azazel looked at his back with a cruel smile on his lips. Jake is not a chess piece. The chess piece still has the possibility of resistance. He is the key, a key forged by fear and guilt, a key to unlock Hell's Gate.
In the shadow of the trees in the distance, Bai Haorui's figure flashed past, like a shadow blending into the darkness. He was chasing Tracking Talisman, who was secretly attached to Jake's body. Looking at Azazel Those Yellow Eyes eyes flashed with a hint of cold murderous intent. He touched the mahogany sword at his waist. The sword body was warm and the fingertips trembled slightly - now is not the time, his Returning Light Breath Regulation Method has not yet reached the state of "true breath is continuous, and the breath reaches the heel", and his mind has not yet been completely restrained to the state of "being silent and silent, with one spirit shining alone", but it will be a little bit close soon. Killing Azazel is easy, Colt can pierce the heart with a special bullet, but that's not what he wants. What he wants is to shock, to let the "screenwriter" hiding behind the scenes know that he, Bai Haorui, is not a little bug that can be manipulated by others.
At a remote intersection, the night was as thick as ink that cannot be melted. The moon was covered by dark clouds, not even a trace of light could shine through. Dean's Impala was parked on the side of the road. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the bumpy soil on the ground. In the halo of the headlights, flying insects were swirling crazily. He took out a tin tobacco box from the trunk, and the box was John What left behind, the edges were frayed, contained his fake ID card, John's old coins, and a photo of the two brothers - it was taken on Sam's sixteenth birthday. The two of them hooked their shoulders and crowded in front of an old game console, laughing heartlessly. The sun shone on their faces, making them dazzling.
Dean squatted down and dug a hole in the center of the intersection with his fingers. The soil was stained on his hands, cold and wet, with a fishy smell. He put the tin box in, buried it carefully, and stamped the soil firmly with his feet.
Bai Haorui stayed in the abandoned house, guarding Sam's body. He knew what Dean was going to do. He knew it from the moment Dean turned around and rushed out of the house. He didn't stop it, and couldn't stop it. He just lit a fire A stick of mugwort, with curls of green smoke entangled around Sam's body, trying to dispel the evil spirit entrenched in him. The smell of mugwort was clear and bitter, permeating the room. He looked at Sam's pale face and thought silently, one day I will take you out of your destined suffering and torture.
A gust of cold wind blew by, picking up the fallen leaves on the ground and swirling them around. The halo of the car lights shook violently. In the shadow of the intersection, a woman in a black dress slowly walked out. Her makeup was gorgeous, her red lips looked like blood, and there was a playful smile at the corner of her mouth. Her voice was charming, but it was wrapped in a biting chill. "Winchester's Little Dean, how about it? I said we will meet again!"
Dean stood up, patted the dirt on his hands, raised his eyes and looked at the woman, without any hesitation. "I will use my soul to exchange for Sam's resurrection. Ten years, give me ten years, and my soul will be yours!"
The devil sneered, and she walked up to Dean, stretched out her finger, and scratched his cheek. There was a biting chill in her fingertips, as if she was looking at a product. "Ten years? You think too highly of yourself, Dean·Winchester. Sam's life is much more valuable than yours - he is Special Children, the person chosen by Azazel, and the key embryo that can open Hell's Gate."
Dean's fists were clenched white, his knuckles were blue, and his nails were embedded in his palms, bleeding. He looked into the distance, and Sam's smiling face flashed in his mind, his father's instructions before his death flashed, and the days and nights when the brothers hunted monsters together, and those paintings flashed through his mind. The scene replayed in his mind like a movie, and every scene tugged at his heart. His voice was pleading, desperate, and full of desperate madness. "Nine years... eight years... as long as you want! As long as you let him live! As long as he can live!"
The devil put away his smile and said word by word, "One year. I will give you one year of life in exchange for Sam's life. Remember, don't think about breaking the contract, don't think about finding a way to break it, otherwise, Sam will die immediately, without even pain, and will be completely stunned."
Dean looked into her eyes. There was no warmth in those eyes, only greed and indifference. He held her hand without hesitation, and the cold touch came from the fingertips, like holding a piece of ice. He lowered his head and kissed the back of her hand, his movements were as pious as While performing a sacrifice, the moment the contract came into effect, the wind suddenly stopped, the air was filled with a pungent smell of sulfur, and an invisible shackle fell on his soul. Dean's heart seemed to be grasped by a hand, and the pain made him almost suffocate, and his eyesight turned black.
He turned around and walked towards the car, his steps firm, without any hesitation. One year was enough, enough for him to say goodbye to Sam and Bai. Although it was short-lived, the three of them would be very happy together this year.