Chloe POV:

Dean dropped me off at my house after dinner. We walked to my door together, hands nowhere near each other's. Once we got to the entrance, he turned to face me.

"Hey, thanks for coming to meet my dad."

"No problem," I said, "He's very nice." My mind still danced with the thoughts of my father. Where is he, I wondered.

Dean lifted my chin up with his finger and his eyes searched mine in concern, "I promise that we won't let anything happen to you."

I smiled sadly, "You know, for a guy with this tough exterior, you are really..."

"Nice? Kind? Yeah. Unfortunately, that's always my main flaw, apparently." I searched his expression but it changed in an instant. The pensive look was hidden by a shrug and his crooked grin, "But that's a story for another day." He took my face into his hands and stroked my cheek with his thumb, "I'll see ya soon, Chloe." He released his hold on me as I also stepped out of the trance that he created. He waved as he walked back to the Impala. I waved back mindlessly as I realized that: Dean Styles makes my heart skip a beat.

---

I woke up to the moonlight peeking through my curtains. I rose, rubbed my eyes and walked down the stairs to get a glass of water. Releasing the tap, I heard a familiar voice;

"Chloe? What are you doing up so late?"

I turned around slowly with the glass still in hand. "Uh, getting some water, Dad. What are you doing up?" The question was filled with suspicion. I carefully watched his every move as he opened the refrigerator door.

"Eh, you know. Your mother frowns upon midnight snacks, but my stomach couldn't wait 'til morning." The door was still open, as I remained on the other side of it. Feeling the cool air brush against my legs sent goosebumps across my body.

Great. I just shaved.

Even though the words coming out of his mouth seemed to be his, something wasn't right. How the Hell was this happening?

"Yeah... But Dad..."

"Yes, sweetheart?" He asked, clanking jars and bottles trying to search for the perfect ingredients.

"I don't know how to tell you this but... You're... You're not supposed to be here..."

"What do you mean, Chlo?"

"I mean... Dad... You're supposed to be..." I gulped. I hated this word, "Um...well,... supposed... to be dead."

He didn't respond to that, but the clanking and rattling stopped.

"Dad, can you close the door so I can talk to you for a second?" As I reached for the door, a hand that didn't belong to him grabbed me. I screamed in pure terror as I watched the blue eyes that used to be my father's, turn a deep, dark, black.

"LET GO OF ME!" I proceeded to scream, but nothing would come out.

The voice that followed did not belong to my father, either, as there was a darkness added to it, "Oh, Chloe." His face cocked slightly, like a snake sizing up their next meal, "You're one of my favorites. You know why?"

I shrunk back and squeezed my eyes tightly as the demon's lips got closer to my ear. "Because you're so naive." He turned my face forcefully so that I was looking directly into his, "Daddy! Daddy!" He imitated, "So innocent." His devilish smile turned quickly into disgust, "But so stupid." He shoved me across the room where I came into contact with the edge of the counter, leaving a sharp pain in my side. I held onto it as he came closer to me,

"Hah! And you? And that Dean child?" he scoffed, "I don't approve. I really thought that you were smarter than that." He knelt down and I winced, "Shhh... Shhh...," He cooed and began stroking my hair, "I won't hurt you. I have no intent on doing that."

But, even with those words spoken, he proceeded to grab a knife from our kitchen collection. And not one of those small, paring knives either.

He came closer and gripped my wrist tightly. I struggled to free myself, but it was no use. "But... I do need something before I leave." He took the sharp end of the blade and drew a line down the center of my palm. I cringed in pain as, once again, no sound could pass my lips.

He studied the blade that was covered in my blood closely. He chuckled darkly to himself as the image in front of me began to get blurry. I heard a voice in the distance...

"Chloe.... Chloe... Chloe...." It sang.

---

The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake by my mom.

"Chloe! Chloe! Wake up!" She yelled in my ears.

"What... What happened?"

"I don't know sweetheart, but you were screaming an awful lot in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

I looked around and squinted as the insanely bright light entered through my windows. What time was it? I glanced over at the clock which read 8:30. Oh gosh. 8:30. On a Saturday. I'm up at 8:30.

I guess it was a dream, wasn't it?

"Um... Yeah... I guess... It was so realistic though." I said, rubbing my eyes.

She smiled softly at that, "Well, sweetheart. It was only a dream." She moved my nest of a hair we call bedhead away from my face as she kissed my forehead. "I'm gonna make some pancakes. Want some?"

I nodded my head thoughtlessly as I tried to comprehend what happened.

So it was a dream?...

So why do I still feel that dull pain in my side?

I lifted up my shirt to examine my ribs, and there was a huge, yellow and purple bruise.

Welp. That could be a coincidence, I gue--

Wait. My hand.

I looked down at my left hand... And low and behold.

A scar sat smack dab in the middle of it.

Dream? Damn, that must've been one hell of a dream, then.

Notes

Hope you guys enjoyed it... I am trying to add the "scary" element into it... Not too scary, right?

Anyway,

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Love you most,

Kayla