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That Night

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Sam can't remember much of what happened that night. There was chanting, lots of it, and he can vaguely recall being forced on his knees in front of a wooden cross. Witches and demons and all sorts of monsters gathered around him, kicking him while he was down. “Hunter,” they whispered like it was the most foul word imaginable. As they nailed him to the cross, they chanted it over and over again, steadily rising in volume. “Hunter,” they cried as if he had killed their children (he probably did). As he hung there helplessly, they jeered “Hunter,” over and over again. They screamed at him for hours, letting all their anger out on him as he hung in agony. He remembers the demons lurking in the corner, laughing at him as he began to cry, thinking Dean would never come.