Monsters were something to be scared of.
They were something to run from (unless you were a hunter, of course).
Whether it was a vampire, a werewolf, a ghost, a demon, a wraith, or whatever it was, it was as real as you and me, and most of them wanted you dead, and unless they knew how to handle them, they weren't scared of any petty human like your next-door neighbor, or your co-worker, or the homeless man that's always asking for some money outside your favorite diner. No. They weren't scared. Not at all.
But if there was something that could make a shiver go up their spines, or sweat roll down their foreheads, it was one name, and one name only. A name so strong and powerful that it could not only make their eyes widen with nothing more than fear, but could also make them turn around and run all the way to the other end of the planet, because whatever it was that was waiting for them there, was a hell lot better than them.
And, yes, there was the occasional monster that didn't flinch when said name was mentioned, that didn't try to run away whilst still attempting to keep their dignity, that thought that they weren't anything to be scared of, and that any monster who thought different was pathetic in every sense of the word. And, yet, they always learned their lesson, because they were always brought down, and they always learned to fear them when it was too late.
So, indeed, at some point it became common knowledge, that if any monster ever heard that name and still had any hopes of staying alive, they were to run.
But all of them knew it was hopeless.
Because they would always find them, no matter where, no matter when.
All of them knew for a fact, there was no escape from the Winchesters.
(A/N: I feel so stupid for writing this. It's crap and it's silly, I know, but I've been wanting to write something and this is just kind of what I've been itching to write. So I'm sort of glad I got to scratch my itch. Sorry (not sorry) again for this silly piece of crap ;p)