Hours of chasing shifters through abandoned warehouses had left all three of you drained. Dean had muttered something about needing the "world's longest shower" before disappearing down the hallway, while Sam stayed behind in the library, meticulously cleaning blood from the weapons spread across the table.
You slipped into your room, grateful for the chance to wash away the grime of the hunt.
Steam still lingered in the air as you stood in front of your vanity, running a brush through your damp hair while the blow dryer hummed softly. For the first time all day, everything felt...normal.
Then the dryer died. The room fell silent. You frowned at the outlet. "Huh..." The lights overhead flickered once.
Twice. Then went out completely. "...Dean?" you called. No answer. Only the faint creak of old wood somewhere behind you. You turned just as something collided with you.
Your shoulder slammed into the vanity, knocking bottles and brushes across the floor. Before you could recover, a hand clamped over your mouth while another twisted your arm painfully behind your back. You fought instinctively, elbowing backward, stomping down as hard as you could.
Nothing. Whoever had grabbed you barely reacted. A rough laugh sounded beside your ear. "Feisty."
A rag was forced between your teeth before cloth tightened painfully around your mouth, silencing every protest. Rope dug into your wrists, then your ankles, each knot tied with practiced speed.
You hit the floor hard. Breathing heavily, you looked up. A pair of boots stepped into view. Then jeans. Then... Your own face. Your heart stopped. It smiled.
Except it wasn't your smile. It was crooked. Arrogant. Predatory.
The thing wearing your face crouched in front of you, resting its elbows on its knees. "There you are."
Its voice... Your voice...Was perfect. Not a single difference. It reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face almost mockingly. "I've been waiting for this." It stood, stretching lazily before walking over to your mirror.
For several long moments, it simply admired itself. Turning its head. Practicing your expressions.
It leaned down just enough for you to see the malice behind your own eyes. It grabbed you beneath the arms and hauled you effortlessly across the room.
Your muffled cries echoed through the bedroom as it dragged you toward the closet.
The door creaked open. Darkness stared back.
"You'll have the best seat in the house." With one hard shove, you tumbled inside.
The door slammed. The lock clicked. Outside, your own footsteps crossed the room.
The shifter adjusted your clothes, smoothed your hair, and practiced one last innocent smile in the mirror.
"Showtime." Then it walked out of your room.
Somewhere down the hall, Dean's bedroom door opened. The shifter smiled to itself. "This is going to be fun."
Then you hear the shifter speak in your voice. Sam and dean laughing, enjoying "Dean this food is amazing. You and sammy sure know what a gal needs"
They have no clue what just walked into their lives. Both winchester's believe the shifter is you. They dont know your trapped.
