Mitchell's House, South Dakota -- 1995
We returned to the house at dawn, armed with Bobby's research and blessed weapons. The Oni's presence still lingered in the air, but something felt different about the house in daylight.
"Look for anything with these markings," Bobby handed out papers with copied symbols. "Books, artifacts, scrolls. Whatever Mitchell found, it'll have similar writing."
Dean's cross had been glowing steadily since we arrived. He kept touching it absently, like it was giving off heat.
I followed Dad into Mitchell's study, trying to ignore how the darkness inside me responded to the lingering supernatural energy. The room was cluttered with books and artifacts, most Western occult items, nothing obviously Japanese.
Until I saw it.
Behind Mitchell's desk, partially hidden by a bookshelf, was a trunk. The wood was old, marked with symbols that matched Bobby's papers. But it was the lock that caught my attention - it wasn't just sealed, it was warded.
"Dad," I called out, keeping my voice steady. "Found something."
As we gathered around the trunk, Bobby's expression grew grave. "These aren't just containment wards. They're preservation seals. Whatever's in here, Mitchell wanted it to last."
The markings seemed to shift under my gaze, like they were reading me back. Then I noticed something that made my blood run cold - among the Japanese symbols were drawings.
Crude but unmistakable sketches of angels and demons, with vessels depicted as empty containers waiting to be filled.
And through them all ran a single line of text, which the darkness inside me translated effortlessly:
"To prevent the final war, destroy the vessels before they can be claimed."
The Oni hadn't come to observe us.
It had come to destroy us.
"These markings," Bobby traced the air above the trunk, not touching it. "They're from different eras. Someone's been adding to this over centuries."
Dad studied the lock. "Can we open it safely?"
"Not here," Bobby shook his head. "Need proper containment. And..." he glanced at Dean and me, though his eyes lingered on Dean's glowing cross, "maybe the boys should wait outside."
Before Dad could agree, the house temperature plunged. The Oni materialized at the study's entrance, its massive form blocking our escape route. But this time, its mask-like face showed no curiosity - only cold purpose.
It spoke again in that terrible voice that made Dad and Bobby wince in pain. But I heard it clearly: "The vessels must not be."
Dean raised his iron rod, but the Oni moved with impossible speed. It slammed him against the wall, his cross flaring brilliant white at the contact. Dad's shotgun blast passed harmlessly through the demon's form.
The trunk's markings began to glow.
"The bloodlines end," the Oni's voice resonated in my head. "The war will not come."
It reached for Dean with clawed hands, and I understood with horrible clarity - it wasn't just trying to kill us.
It wanted to eliminate every possible vessel bloodline, ensure Heaven and Hell could never find suitable hosts for their most powerful weapons.
The darkness inside me surged with protective rage.
The vessel of the morning star might be empty, but it wasn't powerless.
As the Oni reached for Dean, that darkness responded instinctively. The temperature dropped further, but not from the demon's presence. Shadows bent wrong around me, and the trunk's markings flared in recognition.
"The vessel stirs," the Oni's voice held surprise. "But you are not yet-"
I moved without thinking. The darkness inside me reached out, not with power, but with resonance. The trunk's seals recognized it, ancient magic responding to the vessel-shaped darkness in my soul.
Dean's cross blazed brighter, and for a moment, our eyes met. Something passed between us - vessel to vessel, brother to brother. His presence amplified whatever was happening.
The Oni released Dean, turning to me with ancient understanding in its eyes. "You would preserve the bloodlines? Ensure the war comes?"
"No," I answered through the chaos, letting that hollow darkness touch the trunk's seals. "I would change it."
The seals blazed with supernatural light as that my darkness resonated with them. Ancient Japanese symbols swirled through the air, recognizing something in my blood - something older than the Oni itself.
"Impossible," the demon's voice filled my head. "The vessel is empty, yet it commands-"
The trunk's contents exploded outward, scrolls and artifacts scattering, but I focused on a small ceramic jar that seemed to pulse with binding magic. The darkness inside me knew what it was, knew how to use it.
Dean's cross flared again, and suddenly the air felt charged with something beyond blessed metal. The Oni's form wavered, caught between my resonance with the seals and whatever was awakening in my brother.
"The bloodlines must end," the Oni lunged for Dean again, but the darkness in me pulled at the binding seals, using them like anchor points.
"Sam?" Dad's voice seemed distant. "What's happening?"
I couldn't explain. Couldn't tell them how my soul's power was turning the Oni's own binding magic against it. How being crafted for Lucifer meant understanding certain fundamental laws of creation.
The Oni's form began to dissolve, ancient eyes fixed on Dean and me with terrible hate. "Others will come. The vessels must not-"
But the seals had already taken hold. With a sound like reality tearing, the demon vanished, pulled back to its territory by magic that responded to what I was meant to be.
Silence fell.
The ceramic jar crumbled to dust, its purpose served. Dean's cross slowly dimmed, and the darkness inside me retreated to its usual hollow space.
"How..." Bobby started, then stopped, staring at the burning scattered evidence of an ancient plan to prevent the apocalypse by destroying its destined vessels.
I met Dean's eyes across the room. He looked shaken, but not afraid. His hand rested on his cross, which still pulsed faintly with sacred light.
Dad attempted to blow out the fire of one of them as he tried to pick up one of the scrolls, but with a thought I made the fire burn harsher until he had to recoil away, without touching it.
The fire consumed the scrolls faster than natural flame should, eating away centuries of carefully gathered knowledge about vessel bloodlines.
Dad and Bobby exchanged looks, but neither commented on how the flames seemed to respond to my presence.
"We should go," Dean said quietly, his cross still gleaming. "Before anything else shows up."
I nodded, watching the last scroll blacken and curl.
The darkness inside me settled, satisfied that this particular threat to our bloodline was destroyed. One less weapon that could be used against us.
Dad gathered what few papers hadn't burned, probably planning to research them later. But I knew he wouldn't find anything useful. The important parts - the dangerous parts - were already ash.
As we left Mitchell's house, I caught Dean studying me in the Impala's side mirror. Not with fear, but with something like recognition. Like some part of him had felt what happened back there, had sensed what stirred in both of us.
Bobby would have questions later. Dad would add this to his growing list of mysteries about his sons.
But for now, we had prevented one possible future - one where our bloodlines were systematically destroyed before Heaven and Hell could claim their vessels.
Ironic, really. In trying to prevent the apocalypse, the Oni had only awakened further what made us the vessels.
The darkness inside me curled contentedly around that thought as we drove away, Mitchell's house burning in the rearview mirror. Dean's cross still pulsed with sacred light, and in the front seat, Dad and Bobby discussed theories that wouldn't come close to the truth.
Let them search. Let them wonder.
Let others come trying to stop what was written.
They'd find out what the Oni learned today - that even empty vessels have power.
That even though we will beat the plan, we won't just roll over for others so that they enjoy their lives while we sacrifice ourselves in futility.
Dean caught my eye in the mirror again, and I sensed a kind of understanding shift within his gaze.
Vessel recognizing vessel.
Brother recognizing brother.
Whatever is out there, we will be ready for it.
No matter what.