A/N: Hello again! It has been awhile (sorry about that!) Honestly, I thought this was going to be a one-off, but Salt and Iron in the comments gave me an idea that I am going to run with! Enjoy!

I, Kara Petras, of sound volition and mind, write this now so that others know there is a power out there that is above our control. Demons, angels, monsters, whatever you want to call them. They are here. On Earth. They appear as ordinary humans, but they are so much more. I am still trying to work out the pieces of the puzzle myself, and I cannot prove anything yet. I am just posting this because there is a great chance I will not live to see sunrise tomorrow. Already, most of my coworkers and patients are dead. I am submitting this from my work, but I cannot stay. Already, my office lights are flickering. I must go. But you deserve to know the truth. Anything saved will automatically post in two hours to multiple sites on the internet, and only I can stop this. If I can get to a computer in time, if I am alive, I will stop the submission. I feel that this story will only continue to grow over time, and it should not be released until it has been completed.

If you are reading this, I am most likely dead or on the run. Do not try to find me, or you may find the wrath of demons falling upon you. But know that they are out there. Be suspicious. Be careful. There are beings out there with immense power, power you cannot even imagine. From what I can tell, all of this mayhem points back to one man: Dean Winchester.

Below is my log entry that I was typing only an hour ago, before everything went to hell. Before it was a life and death situation. God, there is already so much death.

They are coming i hvae t o go

Patient Log #134: Dean Winchester

Date of Death: January 22, 2066

REOPENED

Date: June 6, 2068

Never in my experience as a care worker have I reopened a case file after a patient's death. To be fair, if there was any case I would ever have to reopen, it would be Dean's. After two full years I still have not forgotten about him. He has made the greatest impact of any other patient in my career. But, I digress. There is a different, far more important reason than any sentiment I may have.

He kept journals.

Now I know how that sounds. 'An old man kept some diaries. How cute' etc, etc. I have had my fair deal of patients keeping diaries. Many of my patients have Alzheimer's disease, so I totally understand keeping diaries as a memory jogger. Hell, I keep one as well. But this was different. There were over a hundred of them. 112, to be exact.

Now the next question may be related to how he died two years ago, and me just writing about it now. That is the other peculiar thing. He kept them under the floorboards. He never told anyone about this, though I suspect Sam was in on the secret too. But I guess Charlie and Cas were not, seeing as the journals were still all there two years postmortem. He managed to evade the security camera's view, though that security camera in particular was always acting up when he was alive. Since this building is old, we thought it was due to faulty electricity. Knowing Dean Winchester as I do now, another explanation seems highly more likely.

We only found his journals because we are renovating, and the floors are decades old; it was time for them to go. I was tending to another patient when I got called down to the construction area (we are renovating one wing at a time), since they knew that I had taken care of Dean and his name was on all of the journals. I was there when they pulled the final journal out, and was awestruck. Who has enough stories in their lifetime to write 112 journals? When asked what I wanted to do with them (as I was the only one that knew the patient out of the group that had gathered), curiosity got the best of me, and I instructed them to bring the load of them to my car, so that I could take them back to my apartment.

After my shift, I went home and started reading. After getting approximately two hours of sleep, I am halfway through the fifth journal, and it is like nothing I have ever read before. It feels like a supernatural thriller fictional novel, but it feels too real. I don't know how to describe it; in every sentence there is truth. Dean had never in his years here showed signs of mental illness. He did talk about some weird things, with some 'out-there' ideas of reality, but I always chalked it up to confusion and old age. Everything becomes more muddled with age and despair. However, now I am not so sure. The journal is so detailed. According to him, he was in a 'family business' of hunting any supernatural being. Even with the supernatural beings, it is too true, too real. And it isn't like he wrote this starting when he was old, he started as a kid. He has written these journals for 70 years. If he actually had a mental illness, we would have found out, right?

I don't think I can keep justifying this to myself. These journals are not just the fantasies of a young child; they are real. His writings are real. But, that must also mean that demons are real. But so are angels.

I can't decide what is worse. Not knowing what happens after death, or knowing, but also knowing what haunts the Earth while still alive.

I am going to keep reading once I get home tonight. Dean Winchester has for sure lead one hell of a life, and I am grateful to be part of it, even if it was towards the end. In fact, I wonder if he ever wrote about me...

I just got a call from the construction workers; apparently there are lights flickering and strange noises coming from Dean's old room. Something about that sounds familiar, and haunting.

Oh, God, I need to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This is an automatic submission by KARA PETRAS, through SOCIALSUBMIT. Thank you for your patronage!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Well, that was a tone-shift! This sorta felt like I was writing a creepypasta. PLEASE let me know what you think, and if I should continue this (my mind is already racing with loads of new content). Thank you so much for reading, have a fantastic day!