Leaves crashed as Sam and Dean barreled through the forest. Minutes ago, they had been hunting down an alleged sprite livng in nothern Connecticut. It turned out, the sprite was very real and spat acid when threatened. And now they were running from it, instead, as they hurried to make it to the impala for backup supplies.
"I really think we should have let animal control take this one!" Sam panted.
"Where's your sense of good-old-American adventure?" Dean shouted back, enthrall we by the hunt depsute the fear.
Sam scoffed, but didn't bother answering. Suddenly he cried out as the pixie, about three feet tall with fish like facial features, leapt and bit the base of his neck. He heard Dean shout, gunshots firing and a dead weight dropping from his back. But all he could hear was the ringing in his ears... The pain in his back. Dean crouched in front of him, more worried than ever.
"D-dean..?" Sam slurred, frowning. His brother was shrinking! "Dean! You.. You're getting smaller..?"
"More like the the other way around." Dean said grimly. Sam stopped around 30 feet tall, his head bumping the branches of the trees.
"Holy shit... What should we do?"
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