Dean swung the shotgun around and checked it for the umpteenth time. "Did you see anything while you were in there" Where it eats, rests, anything like that?"

"It stays up away from where it keeps the kids. I didn't see it first hand, but I have a general idea," Sam was checking the .45 then.

"Okay, you get the kids and I'll get the Boog." Dean wasn't taking no for an answer. He was locked and loaded and starting toward the cave.

The cave was dark, and smelled awful inside. Like old meat, and worse. Toward the back of the cave where some natural steps that lead downward away from the entrance. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Dean pulled a second flashlight from his pack and started toward the stairs.

Sam followed again, the .45 in hand and ready. "I don't know Dean, it's like he feeds on fear." The steps were cold and wet, a slip waiting to happen.

"Boogeyman legend says he either sells kids as slaves or eats them," Dean remarked, taking the cold, wet steps as carefully as possible. "You think he captures them and feeds off their fear?"

"I never saw him eat a kid, he did take one away though."

"Did the kid ever come back?" Dean pulled out a second flashlight to light their path, slinging the shotgun over his back. He only had two hands and they needed to see.

"No, I didn't see him come back, Dean. I wonder if he was eating him." Sam shuddered at that thought.

"If he didn't come back, chances are he's dead. You should have let the other kids go before you escaped."

"Dean, I couldn't," Sam sighed. "I had to get out find you and get back. I don't know what this thing is capable of."

"I just don't like the idea of a bunch of kids in..." Dean came to a halt at the bottom of the stairway, thinking he heard something not far up ahead.

The cavern was dark, and at the bottom of the stairs was another that lead sharply upward. The light would show it was a well used, and muddy stairway, like there was another way into and out of the cave. The room ahead was still, save for the sound of the occasional scrape of feet, but it sounded far away, like the room itself may have some size to it.

"Which way?" Dean asked, lowering his voice, noting both another stairway and a room up ahead. They'd lost sight of the golem and he had no idea which way to go.

"Up, for Boog." Sam whispered. "Kids should be ahead....shine your light that way?"

Dean shifted the flashlight so that it shone directing ahead of them, moving forward slowly and carefully through the cave.

Up ahead as Sam had said, there were cages, more empty than any with kids. There were still a few, that held up their hands to shield from the light. "This isn't right, Dean." Sam whispered. "There were more kids."

Dean frowned thoughtfully, as they neared the cages. He wasn't sure what had happened to the other kids, but there was one sure way to find out. He knelt down as he came to the first cage that had a kid in it. "You okay?" he asked, in a hushed tone.

The kid nodded, looking from Sam to Dean. "He came back for us," whispered. "He said he would."

"What happened to the others?" Dean asked, setting the flashlight down and reaching into his pack for a crowbar.

"Boogeyman took them out, not long ago," the kid whispered. "He knew you'd be back," he said, looking up at Sam, causing Sam to frown.

"Yeah, well, we're gonna get you outta here." He looked up at Sam, as if for confirmation, and then he was prying open the cage with the crowbar.

Sam nodded as if confirming the kid's story. "I don't know where the thing took the kids. Should one of us go looking while the other frees kids?"

"No..." Dean had changed his mind. "Before we do anything, we need to get these kids out of here."

"Okay," Sam nodded, and walked over to the other cages, pulling against the bars enough for the smaller kids to get through. There was shuffling overhead and the faint sounds of laughter.

Dean heard the laughing and it just pissed him off further. He went from cage to cage, breaking them open and pulling kids out, until he and Sam had freed all of those who were left. "He's using them as bait."

Sam paused, listening for something, then it dawned on him. "Phillip's not here, Dean." He was in a panic and striking a lifted lighter for extra light, looking for the boy.

"I don't know who Phillip is, but if he's not here, he's either dead or..." Dean titled his chin slightly, shift of his gaze upwards to the sound of inhuman laughter. "He's baiting us. It's a trap."

"Why would he want to trap us now?" Sam whispered as he broke open another cage with little effort. "Is he trying to branch from bad kids to bad adults?"

"Not us, you. You escaped. You're the one that got away." Dean glanced at the small group of kids they had freed. "We gotta get them outta here."

"He called me the mystery, Dean. He knew I didn't belong, after he got me here." He sighed. "All these years, and he's still got a mad on?" The last kid was freed, and Sam stood there looking much like Gulliver, or at least that's how he was feeling.

"All what years?"

"The years since Dad gave me the .45?"

"You saying you've run into this thing before?"

"Well hell, I don't know, Dean! Maybe?" He wasn't sure if this was the same one from his childhood memories or not. Sure their dad checked the closets and under the bed, but maybe the thing went back into hiding instead of being shot with whatever John had loaded.

"Makes sense," Dean admitted. "Maybe that's why we're here. To finish what Dad started."

"Really?" Sam pressed his lips together in thought. "So, let's finish it. Dad will be glad."

"Yeah," Dean replied, glumly, unsure if their father was even still alive. Every day brought with it another year of memories, and more names to add to the list of people they'd lost. Dean looked around at the small group of kids they had freed, knowing time was running out, picking out the eldest and taking a few minutes to instruct them on how to get out. He wasn't leaving Sam there to deal with the monster alone, no matter how much he might insist on it. Dean gave the eldest his flashlight and an extra gun and sent them on their way, turning back to Sam once the small group had left.

Dean's fingers scraped against the floor, just missing the rifle as the monster swing an arm out to grab hold of him.

Boog smiled, and pulled Dean close to his face. "You too were scared of me once." He taunted Dean.

"Wasn't me," Dean argued, reaching inside his jacket for the silver dagger he kept there. "Must have me confused with someone else." Dean winced, close enough to smell the thing's putrid breath and regard its hideous face up close and personal. Yet another face to haunt his dreams.

"No, no...Protector of the Mystery. Your fear was worse than his at times." Hideous was an understatement, he was indeed the thing that nightmares were made of. Mismatched eyes at different levels on his face, a nose too wide that narrowed into a point, much like a troll. Sores that oozed out a foul puss. He was not a model by any means.

"You feed on fear, is that it' Well, you're barking up the wrong tree, bub," Dean just about had his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, clenching his jaw as he swallowed back down the bile that was rising in his throat at the creature's fetid appearance.

"Fear and flesh," his smile grew.

Dean smiled back, green eyes flashing with hatred as he pulled the knife from his jacket and plunged it into what passed for the monster's chest.

Boog howled in pain as the dagger plunged into his chest and Dean was dropped to free his hands for pulling the silver from where it was burning into him. "Sssssilver!" The name was dragged out, and his eyes were focused back on Dean as he stood to his full height, dropping the dagger from his long fingered hands. "You will pay for that." One hand was sliding though the ink black blood that flowed from the wound and the other was reaching for Dean again.

Sam was pushing to his feet finally, and starting to raise the pistol but unsure if the bullets would rip through and hit Dean. His shots had to be perfect.

Dean wasn't about to wait around for the thing to have another go at him. He scrambled to retrieve the rifle that had been knocked to the floor and had been loaded with silver bullets.

Boog moved again toward Dean, the rifle not seeming to stop his motion. "Fear, sweet fear."

Sam was up and aiming toward his head, waiting for Dean's move.

Dean had to turn his back on the thing for a single second, leaning down to scoop the rifle up from the ground.

A clawed hand swiped at Dean's back in that split second, and Sam fired twice. One shot hit at the base of Boog's neck, and part of his cheek exploded onto Dean as the second shot ripped through the back of his head.

The claws made contact, ripping through Dean's jacket and drawing blood, but not nearly as deeply as they had before. He spun around just as Sam was taking his shot, part of the thing's face exploding onto Dean's jacket, but he paid it no heed. He brought the rifle up and fired off two shots, at point blank range.

Boog spun around, slowed but not dead. The silver bullets were causing his flesh to burn and peel away, as well as a light inside his body. He started to move toward Sam, but then Dean fired point blank and he fell to his knees. Body convulsing. "No! Not like this!"

Dean lowered the rifle and dropped back just long enough to grab hold a candle and set the thing on fire. "Burn in hell, you son of a bitch."

Boog screamed then, the fire starting to consume him. "No!" Sam stepped closer, and drew his pistol up to his forehead, "Yes." He fired one shot that knocked the flaming beast over onto his back, the flames burning down into bone.

Dean watched for a moment as the thing went up in flames. Confident Sam had it under control, he lowered the rifle sagging and leaning against the wall for a moment to catch his breath while he watched the thing die. He reached around to his back, fingers coming away bloody, but he'd live and so would Sam and the kids.

"You good?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes off the burning corpse.

"Yeah, you?" Dean echoed his brother's question, his first concern for his brother's well being.

"Just a cut and a couple bruises, I'll heal." Sam seemed colder, watching the thing burn. One haunt from his childhood was faced and dealt with, thanks to his brother.

Dean wiped his own blood on his jeans and pushed off the wall to free the helpless boys, crouching down to retrieve his silver dagger from the floor. Dean seemed to notice that look on Sam's face and he paused to watch his younger brother. "You sure you're okay?"

Sam only nodded. "No more kids are going to be scared of him, Dean." His voice was quiet, relief and satisfaction were there, faintly. Sam turned then toward the tables that the kids were chained to, and started with freeing them. "C'mon, Dean. Lets get them out of here."

"Just another monster, Sam. There are plenty of others to take its place." Dean quieted, lost in his own thoughts, wondering what his brother was thinking and feeling about putting down a monster that had haunted him for years.

"This one is dealt with, and that's what matters to me, Dean," Sam said as he looked at the locks that held the chains. "Phillip, we will get you out of this place, soon."

Dean frowned down at the emaciated boy who had been chained to the table. He didn't look like there was much left of him and he wondered why the monster would have even bothered to keep him alive. "Sam..." The tone in Dean's voice belayed his concern. Dean pulled out a pocketknife and bent over to pick the locks on the chains that held the boy captive.

Sam turned to look at the other boy, and his state, frowning. "One of us has to carry him out, Dean. No way in hell he can walk out." He leaned closer to the other boy after a reassuring smile to Phillip. "What are we going to do here, Dean?"

"I'll take him," Dean volunteered, thinking Sam would want to make sure Phillip was all right. "He's not gonna die here," Dean whispered to his brother.

Sam nodded, in total agreement, then he turned back, trying his luck on Phillip's locks with a knife and a broken nail.

Dean pocketed his knife and brushed the dirty, matted hair away from the boy's face, his heart aching with sadness. He knew they couldn't save them all, but each one that died left a mark. "You're gonna be okay," he told the boy quietly, as he leaned close. "We're gonna get you outta here, okay?"