Dean’s POV:
(Flashback)
Realization hits me as I look into the sunken, evil eyes of the man that brutally murdered my friends. They keep calling him Scotty. A stupid name, for a stupid, vile creature who prays on the souls of those around him. His body is moving towards mine and I can see the sweat dripping off his muscles. I look down at my own body that has been whipped, cut, malnourished and abused for the past few weeks. I look like a weak and pathetic warrior next to his defined figure. To make matters worse, I have no energy to help fuel the burning anger inside of me. Anger for what has happened. Anger for what is to come. The man smirks at me as I say something and this expression is enough to have me pushing my dagger into his neck. I can hear gasps from his own people. Did the
