"Tell me where he is," the terrible voice growled at Dean.
Dean looked straight into the demon's eyes.
"No."
The demon roared in fury, throwing Dean across the room. He crashed into wall and slid painfully to the floor.
"Tell me, or you won't be leaving this room alive," the demon said.
Dean laughed.
"Yeah, like you'll let me walk out of here if I tell you. It doesn't matter, I don't know where he is," Dean said.
"Oh, we both know that's a lie. You and the angel are quite close. You have to know where he is."
Dean felt a pang in his chest. He didn't know where Cas was. He hadn't seen him in weeks. But even if he did, there was no way he was telling this demon scum.
"I have no idea. What do you want with him?" Dean asked aggressively.
The demon leered at him.
"Since you do not know where he is, you are of no use to me," he said. He raised his hands, and Dean winced.
With an almighty crash, the door fell in. Sam stood there, grasping a large cup full of water.
"Go to hell," he said, and flung the water over the demon.
The demon gave a horrified scream, and disappeared, smoking. Holy water.
"Just in time, baby bro. But I could have taken him," Dean said, getting to his feet.
"With what, your singing voice?" Sam asked with a smirk. Dean punched him in the arm, and they walked out of the warehouse.
"What did he want?" Sam asked.
"To know where Cas is," Dean answered.
"What for?"
"No idea. But it can't be good. You don't think Cas has switched sides?" Dean asked.
"I doubt it. Have you tried praying to him?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Dean nodded.
He didn't tell Sam he'd been praying every night since Cas vanished. He missed having him around. One day, he and Sam had woken up to find Cas gone. No note, no explanation. Just missing. Dean had been nearly out of his mind with worry. But if the demons were looking for Cas, that means at least he hadn't been found by the enemy yet.
Sam maneuvered the car into a parking space in front of their motel. Dean grimaced as he climbed out of the Impala to go inside.
Sam collapsed on his bed and was asleep almost instantly.
Dean lay down on his own bed, examining his bruises and cuts. Damn, more scars. He looked over at Sam, to make sure he was really asleep. Then he quietly clasped his hands together.
"Cas," he whispered. "I don't know where you are. I don't know if you can even hear me. But I was attacked tonight, by a demon. He was looking for you. Please, let me know if you're okay…please be okay."
He was quiet for a minute, practically willing the angel to appear. But the room stayed dark and silent. Dean shook his head. He rolled over, trying in vain to get some sleep and forget about his missing best friend.
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"Dean? Dean, wake up," Sam said.
"I'm up. What's wrong?" Dean asked.
"I have a case for us. It's from a few hours south of here. It looks like some pets are being killed."
"Really, Sam? You want us to go save puppies and kitties now?" Dean asked.
"They are missing their insides. The owners find them gutted completely out. So yeah, I want to investigate puppies and kitties," Sam said.
"Yeah, that sounds like our kind of thing. Alright, let's get going," Dean said.
Sam grabbed a bag and walked out to the car.
"Cas, we're headed south now for a case. I'll pray to you when I get there and let you know our hotel," Dean said.
"What did you say?" Sam said, coming back into the room.
"Nothing. Let's go."
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Two and a half hours later, Sam and Dean pulled into the town of Sanford, Tennessee.
"Damn, looks like a whole lot of nothing around here," Dean said.
The town was a typical southern farm town. They had a grocery store, a Wal Mart, and more livestock than people. Main street was one road, about a mile long, full of mom and pop stores, most of which had closed up shop in the sixties, judging by their décor.
"Let's find our first witness," Sam said.
Soon, they were knocking on the door of an elderly woman.
"Yes?" she said when she answered.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm Ranger Carlisle and this is Ranger Winstead. We're with the Tennessee Fish and Game Department. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your pet. May we come in?" Sam asked.
"Certainly."
She brought the two men to her stuffy living room, and sat them on an antique couch.
"Would you two like some tea?" she asked.
"Oh, no thank you. So have you lived in Sanford for a long time?" Dean asked.
"My whole life, child. There's just no other place like it. Most everyone here is real friendly," she said.
"We were sorry to hear about the loss of your dog. We've been looking into it, trying to figure out the animal that did it," Dean said.
"Weren't no animal," a man said from the doorway.
"Hush, Ron, they're just doing their job," the woman said to him.
"You don't believe it was an animal? How do you know?" Sam asked.
"Sonny, I grew up here in this area. I been hunting and trapping animals since before you was born. Nothing, and I mean nothing, kills its prey like our Abby was killed. Insides taken clean out. Weren't no rhyme or reason to it, neither. You'd think if something was going to kill her, it would eat her. But no, left her body intact, just slit her stomach and pulled everything out to take. Damndest thing I ever saw."
"Well, we'll look into it. If you get any ideas, here's our card," Dean said, handing it to the man.
"Thank you," the elderly woman said, as she showed Dean and Sam to the door. "I hope you find whatever is doing this to the pets here."
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"What are you thinking, Sam?" Dean asked his brother.
"I'm not sure yet. There are some religions that use animal sacrifice, like Santeria. But chupacabras will also attack animals that way," Sam said.
"Chupacabras? As in the goat sucking thing from Mexico?" Dean asked.
"It used to just be Mexico, but some sightings have been happening in the southwest U.S. I have no idea why one would be this far away," Sam said.
"That's just a legend, Sammy."
"So is almost everything we hunt."
He made a damn good point.