contentRating: K+
Genre: Humour
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers/Warnings: none
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own them!
A little drabble written for the weekly challenge over on Fanfiction.net
The words of the week were bedraggled, beguiled.
The boys tackle a Rusalka hunt in the depths of the forest.
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The Rusalka's beguiling song drifted across the lake, softened by the mist which rode its mirror-smooth surface. She sat on the rocky bank, humming softly and brushing her russet locks which tumbled over her slim shoulders like a cascade of glistening copper framing her beautiful face.
They would be hers tonight; the two men that she had watched walking purposefully around her lake.
They were young, handsome and strong. They would perish in her lake and forever join her loving entourage in its frigid depths.
She would enjoy them ceaselessly and, in time, they would learn to enjoy her.
xxxxx
Sam spluttered as he crawled out of the lake, pausing to wait for Dean.
He'd never felt so cold and wet as he did right now.
There was a cough and a muttered oath behind him as Dean hauled himself up onto the bank and collapsed into a bedraggled sprawl with a wet splat.
"Well, th-that sucked," Dean groaned through chattering teeth; "the b-bitch fought dirty!"
"Ye-yeah," Sam replied; "still, sh-she's dead tha-thankfully, otherwise sh-she'd have d-drowned us and-and forced us t-to sexually service h-her for all et-eternity."
"Damnit," Dean sighed; "may-maybe I shouldn't have fought b-back so hard."
xxxxx
end
