In the woods, darkness stretched deep between the trees, the kind that made every sound carry just a little too far. Leaves crunched under slow, deliberate steps as the demon moved through the clearing without any urgency.
This was Wrath.
"C'mon, little mouse," he called, voice low but cutting through the silence. "Come out. I've heard a lot about you."
He paused, head tilting slightly, listening.
"And even that accident didn't kill you," he went on, a faint smile touching his lips, not his eyes. "Now I'm interested."
A beat.
"In catching you… and watching you."
"I want to see how wrathful you can be," he said, his voice tightening just enough to show what sat beneath it, "when I start killing the people you care about."
"It's always the same," he went on, quieter now, almost thoughtful. "The strong ones… the ones who think they're in control."
A small breath left him, closer to a laugh than anything else.
"They fall the hardest."
His gaze shifted deeper into the woods, darkening as he focused on the empty space between the trees.
"And that moment," he continued, voice lower, colder, "when they finally break… when thinking stops and all that's left is anger—"
"That's the part I enjoy."
He went still, letting the silence stretch until a sound broke it—from his left, a phone ringing.
Wrath's head turned slightly, a slow smile forming as he stepped toward it. "I found you," he said, voice low, certain, already expecting what he'd see.
He reached the base of a tree.
A phone lay there, vibrating against the roots.
The smile widened.
"Really?" he muttered, almost amused.
He looked up.
Too late.
A figure dropped from above.
Henry came down fast, arm already extended, strike aimed straight for the demon's head.
Wrath didn't panic.
He moved.
His hand shot up and caught Henry mid-motion, stopping him cold in the air. The force froze him there, suspended, his strike inches away but going nowhere.
The demon laughed, tightening his grip like he was holding something insignificant. "You think I didn't see this?" he said. "I've been doing this for centuries."
Henry struggled against it, but the hold didn't break.
He couldn't move.
"Nice try," Wrath added, almost casually, like he'd already won.
"Yeah?"
Dean's voice cut in.
"But you didn't see this, you son of a bitch."
A lighter clicked.
He dropped it.
The ground ignited.
A devil's trap flared to life beneath the demon, symbols burning bright as the circle activated instantly. The effect hit at once, locking the demon in place, stripping the control from his grip.
Henry dropped.
His arm came down in a clean, decisive motion, the sigil-enhanced strike cutting through the vessel at the neck.
The head severed.
Sparks burst across the body as the connection snapped, energy cracking outward before dying off completely.
The body collapsed.
[Demon Eliminated ]
[Reward Granted: 25 Supernatural Points.]
[One Uncommon Gacha acquired]
Henry landed and immediately dropped to one knee, then collapsed to the ground.
Sam was already moving, coming out of cover and reaching him, pulling him up before he hit fully.
"Hey—hey, stay with me," Sam said, steady but urgent.
Henry tried to push himself up, but his body didn't respond the way it should. His breathing was shallow, uneven.
"I don't think… I can move," he said, forcing the words out.
The earlier injury caught up fully now. Without stamina, the healing wasn't kicking in, and the puncture in his lung made every breath harder than the last.
Bobby stepped in, crouching beside them, already assessing. "Yeah, no kidding," he muttered. "You pushed it too far."
They shifted him carefully, setting him back against the tree.
"Sit still," Bobby said. "You're done for now."
"Yeah… but there are still three sons of bitches left," Henry said, voice rough, breathing uneven. "And these guys aren't easy to put down."
He reached for his gloves, hands moving slower now, then pulled two small blade-like pieces from the inner lining. The metal was dull at first glance, but there was something off about it—something that didn't belong to normal steel.
He took out a knife, steadying it against his knee, and fitted the pieces into place with practiced movements. A soft click followed as it locked in, the edge changing just enough to show it wasn't ordinary anymore.
"These," Henry said, holding it out briefly before passing it over, "are the actual part that's enchanted. Gloves, knife—it doesn't matter where they sit."
Dean took it without hesitation, checking the balance once. He didn't ask questions, didn't waste time trying to understand it.
"Just land it clean," Henry added. "One stab… and the demon's done."
Dean gave a short nod, already turning it in his hand. "Yeah," he said. "That'll work."
Henry leaned back against the tree, exhaling slowly as he lowered his hand again, conserving what little strength he had left. "Go," he muttered. "You guys are already unlucky enough… might as well finish attracting trouble."
Dean snorted lightly. "Yeah, funny," he said, but there was no bite in it.
Henry reached into his coat, pulled out a chocolate bar, and unwrapped it with slow fingers before taking a bite.
"Don't die before we get back," Dean added, glancing at him once.
Henry didn't look up, still leaning against the tree as he chewed. "I have no intention," he said, voice steady despite the strain, "and I'm not raising any flags."
*****
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