Chapter 1

The Impala drives down Route 56 late one night, Sam is sitting there staring out onto the deserted road, while Dean is driving.

"So, you wanna tell me what's going on?" asked Dean.

"What...what would possibly be going on, Dean," suggested Sam.

"So you have nothing to tell me."

"No."

"Right," said Dean, as he started to get a little annoyed, "Well...there's a bullet missing from the Colt, how do you explain that?"

"I didn't touch it," said Sam, sternfully, "...what, you think I had something to do with a bullet missing."

"Well, i didn't use, and neither did Bobby, I know that much for sure, so that just leaves you...doesn't it, Sam?"

Sam didn't say anything back to his brother, he just sat there and continued to stare out of the window.

"You went after the crossroads demon last night, didn't you?" Dean asked Sam, straightly. Sam looked at his brother in a way that kind of suggested exactly that.

"Oh Sam, how could you be so stupid, why would you do something like that, you could of got yourself killed."

"But i didn't."

"Sam that's not the point, remember, if you or me try to break this deal at all, you die, I die, it's as simple as that, don't you get it?" Dean blasted at Sam.

Sam didn't say anything.

"Alright...what about the crossroads demon, what happened?"

"I thought that maybe if I killed the demon, it would possibly break the deal."

"What you thought that might actually work."

Sam glanced sideways towards Dean, which basically meant "Really Dean."

Dean thought for a moment, then spoke, "What...so did it work, i mean am i out of my deal or something?"

"Yeah, me shooting the crossroads demon, therefore resulting in you not being dragged down into hell, and i just neglected to mention that to you, i don't think so, Dean."

"Right, so I'm not out of my deal, then?" asked Dean.

"No," said Sam.

"Well, what about the person the crossroads demon was possessing?"

"Didn't make it," declared Sam.

"Alright, just...don't go around doing anything like that again, okay?" Dean asked Sam directly.

Sam once again didn't answer.

"Sam?"

"Alright!"

Dean gave Sam a painful glaring stare.

"Alright...okay, I won't do anything like that again."

"Good."

Dean went back to driving the Impala, and Sam continued to stare out of the window, gazing at the quickly passing road.

A little while later, Dean decided to break the hovering silence hanging over them.

"So, tell me about this vampire nest?"

"Don't change the subject, Dean."

"Well, what would you like me to do, Sam," said Dean, looking straight into his brother's sensitive dewy eyes.

"Dean, I know you're scared man, I know you are, but..."

"No, no...don't start this again Sam, I'm fine..." said Dean, but got brutally cut off by Sam.

"No, you're not fine Dean, you're always saying that you're fine, but you never are, I can see it in you're eyes."

"Look, you don't have to worry about me Sam; I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"You know what...screw you Dean, I'm so sick of the constant shit you've been giving me, you're being a compete ass and you know it."

"What..." said Dean, completely surprised.

"Dean, where do you get off, telling me not to worry about you, when that's exactly what you did back in Wyoming when you sold your soul for my life, which caused this ridiculous mess, so yeah Dean, I'm gonna worry, just like you worried about me when you made that stupid deal."

"Don't pull that one on me, just don't do it Sam!" yelled Dean.

The Impala went quiet as both of the Winchester boys sat in utter silence.

"So...this vampire nest, give me the lowdown again, Sammy?"

"Well, there have been several unusual cattle deaths or mutilations or whatever you want to call them, you know, the usual."

"Right and this is where again, in Florida or something."

"Uh...yeah, in Artrinal, why?"

"No reason, just..." began Dean, but started laughing, "...who would call a place friggin' Artrinal, it's friggin' ridiculous."

"Dean, focus dude!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, so give me some lore on these bloodthirsty suckers."

"Well, as far back as the sixteenth century, various local governments in Europe were handing out bounties for the hunting and killing of vampires. Also the whole turning into mist, and the rest of it, is a load of crap, as Dad once said, "Crosses won't repel them, and sunlight won't kill them.", but they don't like to be in the sun for too long. the whole "Bloodlust" part is true though, they need fresh human blood to survive and can only be killed by beheading, and of course an arrow dipped in Dean Man's Blood will slow them down."

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that already, anything else?"

"Yeah, actually in Florida, they um...mark their victims with a reverse pentagram on their foreheads."

"Well...I guess some f 'd up crap happens in Florida."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"So, I guess it's just some plain old vampires, uh?"

"Man, don't you ever wish we got some more interesting cases?"

"Uh...like what Dean?"

"I don't know, like...werewolves, how often in your lifetime would you ever encounter a werewolve?"

"Once Dean, and I don't think I would ever want to encounter them again."

"Oh...sorry, Madison, I totally forgot, sorry man."

Once again, complete silence fell over them, within the Impala.

"So, how far is it to Artrinal?" asked Dean.

"Um..." started Sam as he pulled out from the glove compartment, a street map of the tiny town of Artrinal, Florida, "about another 300 miles, why do you ask?"

"I just wanna get to Florida, kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell while we're at it!"

Sam looked at his brother, while he drove the Impala, Something's up with Dean, I can tell, something's definetly bothering him, I can see it in his eyes. What's in Artrinal, that's got him so worked up? , thought Sam.

A couple of hours later they crossed the border through to Florida, and into Artrinal, where they found a cheap motel, and bought out a room for a couple of nights seeing as a couple of nights was all they needed. Vampires were pretty straight forward, find the nest, give out some Columbian neckties, and you're done, move on to the next case, move on to the next town, but for some strange reason Sam had this feelin' that this wasn't going to be like any other regular job.

What that reason was yet, Sam was not clear of.

"There you go, Mr. McGillicuddy, your credit card back," said the young lady behind the counter as she handed Dean his credit card, "you'll be saying in Room 15, here are you're keys, and your room is just this way."

She pointed outside, to her left, where Rm. 15 was.

Sam and Dean walked out of the office and turned left, where they found Rm. 15, which was 3 or 4 doors down from the office.

Dean pushed the key into the keyhole, and the door clicked, then swung open, to reveal a kind of romance themed room, which was the kind o room designed for newlyweds or lovey-dovey couples.

"No ay man, no way am I sleeping in this room, Sam."

Dean looked around the room to see two heart-shaped dark-red beds, a heart-shaped mirror upon a hot pink wall, little pink and red hearts hanging from the ceiling, and a huge heart-shaped table and several chairs in the kitchen.

Sam began to laugh, and Dean gave him a sharp stare.

"Dude, this is so not funny."

"Hey, don't look at me, you booked the room not me," said Sam, as he continued to laugh at Dean.

"This is friggin' unbelievable, " shouted Dean, as he left the room.

Sam stuck his head out of the door, to see Dean entering the office.

"Hi," said Dean, as he walked up to the counter, and looked at the young lady, "um...me and my brother just checked into Rm. 15, there...um, seems to be a problem."

"Yes, " said the lady.

"There's a problem with the room my brother and I just checked into," said Dean.

"Did you just say you and your brother," said the woman.

"Yeah, I've said that twice already...ne and my brother," said Dean, now getting a bit annoyed.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about the mistake, Mr. McGillicuddy, but...um...you see, I thought that you and your brother, were...well, you know...together."

"You mean, you thought we were gay."

"Yes, I'm very sorry about this, ."

"If we could get a different room that would be great."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, ," said the lady behind the counter.

"And why is that...uh..." began Dean ,a he looked down at her name tag,"....Monica."

"Well, it just so happens that Rm.15 is the only room available at the moment," said Monica.

"Once again, I'm very sorry about this little misunderstanding, ."

"Well, that's great," muttered Dean as he left the office, and headed back to Rm.15.

He walked into the room to find Sam sitting on the end of one of the heart-shaped beds.

"Oh hey, what happened?" asked Sam.

"Why does everyone always think we're gay?" asked Dean, as he took off his jacket and threw it on to one of the chairs in the kitchen, then sat down on the other bed, "...I mean I can understand why they would think you're gay...but me?"

"Hilarious Dean,...you know that is getting so old."

"Nah, still works," said Dean, as he began to pull out various knives and guns from his bag, which was still on the floor, while Sam pulled out the leather bound journal, that belonged to their father, from the inside of his jacket.

He sat down at the table and began looking through it.

"So, what's our first move?" asked Dean.

"Well, there have been several dead bodies found that have been partly beheaded."

"What...partly beheaded."

"Yeah, and there's a few other deaths, which are clear that they're victims of vampires."

"Well, I say we should pay the morgue a little visit."

The next morning they headed to the Artrinal Central Hospital, they went to the Reception desk and spoke to an extremely hot nurse n Dean's opinion anyway.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Daniel Telakin, and this is my partner Special Agent Harry Bonahomme, we're with the FBI," said Dean.

"Can I see some ID, please?" said the nurse.

"Yeah, sure," replied Dean, as he pulled out his ID and badge from a pocket within his jacket.

"Alright...you too...Agent Bonahomme."

Sam did the same as Dean, and pulled his badge out from the inside of his jacket.

"Okay, so how can I help you two gentlemen?" asked the nurse

This time Sam did the talking, instead of Dean.

"We're working on a murder case at the moment, and we're just here to see the murder victim's bodies."

"Right, okay, well the morgue is just down that hallway, and through the third door on your left, and just down the stairs," said the nurse.

Dean led the way as Sam followed, they went down the hallway that the nurse had pointed them towards, then through the third door on their left and down the stairs to the morgue.

"Why are morgues always downstairs, it's kind of depressing, isn't it?" said Dean.

Sam looked at Dean, then looked away and walked into the morgue to find one of the morgtains sitting behind a desk.

Dean spoke before Sam could get a chance to do just that.

"Uh...Jeff...," said Dean, as he looked at the guy's name badge.

"John..." said the morgtain.

"I know that, listen...Dr. Dworkin's looking for you," said Dean.

"But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation."

"Well, he's back, and he's pissed and he's screamin' for you man, so if i were you I'd 'whoottt', " said Dean, as he pointed behind him, suggesting that the morgtain leave.

As Dean said this, the guy became slightly frightened, ran past Sam and Dean, and left the morgue.

"Alright, now that he's gone, let's find these bodies."

Dean opened up one of the doors on the wall, to find one of the bodies that they were looking for.

The head of the victim was in a container, lying next to her body.

Dean grabbed the container and dropped it on to the table in the middle of the morgue, then opened the box to reveal a still fresh, rotting head of a young woman. He spun the container around so her head faced the two of them

"Well, i don't think i need to see anymore, it's obvious it was vampires."

Sam looked closely at the young woman's forehead, to see etched into it, a small reverse pentagram.

"Yep, definitely vampires," said Sam.

"Hey, check if they shoved anything down her throat, you know like the moth in the 'Silence of the Lambs'," suggested Dean.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," said Sam.

"No, you go ahead, I opened the box, come on Sam, put the lotion in the basket," said Dean.

"Whatever," said Sam, as he put on a pair of gloves, opened up her mouth and shoved his fingers down her throat.

"Dean, get me a bucket."

"Why, you found something," said Dean.

"No, i think I'm gonna puke," said Sam, as he took his fingers out of the girls mouth.

"Hang on, lift her top lip up again," said Dean.

"What...you want me to puke, is that it."

"No, no, i think i saw something."

Dean grabbed the girl's top lip and lifted it up, to find a small hole in her ums, above her teeth.

"Is that a hole?" said Dean.

Dean pushed on the gum around the hole, when, from within he hole, came a small sharp tooth.

"What, it that a tooth?" asked Sam.

Dean looked closer, than realised what it was.

"It's a fang, Sam, a retractable set of vampire fangs, what the hell!" said Dean.

"Well, this changes things," said Sam, as he looked at the fan, as it went back into the girls gums.

"You think."

Dean looked up at Sam, and gave a look that suggested, "What the hell, Sam?"

Later that day, back at the motel, Sam was sitting at his computer, While Dean was looking through their father's journal.

"So, you're positive that the vampire's mark their victims like that?" Dean had asked Sam this question several times already.

"Yes, I've already said that Dean."

"So, what, you think the vamps flipped out and turned on their own kind, or something?"

"I don't know, but it sure looks that way."

"This is friggin' weird man."

"Tell me about it."

"Hey, on the upside, I think I got a lead on where their neat might be." said Sam.

"Yeah, what you got?"

"Well, I read an article in the paper, about complaints of a bunch of rowdy night owls, you know really loud, out all night, heavy drinkers, out at this old farm on Decatur Road," said Sam, as he handed Dean the article.

"Sounds like our fangs', doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does, but I think we should dig a little deeper," suggested Sam.

"Why, I think we can be pretty sure, based on this article, that this farm on Decatur Rd, is the fangs' nest."

"Yeah, but I think it would be a lot more safer to be more than just pretty sure, I mean we can't just barge in there and start beheading people," said Sam, in response to Dean's statement.

"Fine, but how do you suppose we dig a little deeper, huh?"

"Well, there's this little bar out on Route 43, where all the, you know, the night owls go, so I figure it's worth a shot, I say we go tonight, ask around and see what's what?"

"Alright, so it looks like we're going out tonight, huh?"

"Looks like," replied Sam.

"Thank god, because I hate this friggin' room."

Sam started laughing.

Somewhere, in Elizabethville, Ohio, a tall black shabby guy is seen wandering the streets asking directions to a club called "Trotter's Bar", a man on the street points him in the right direction the tall guy begins walking in that direction, he turns a corner, to see a building and a huge sign on the front of it saying "Trotter's Bar".

He enters the bar, and walks up to the bar on the back wall of the club.

"Hey, I'm looking for a couple of guys, I heard that they passed through here."

The bar was partially dark, and most of the chairs were stacked on the tables.

The bartender was clearing up several tables.

"Why, who's asking?" asked the male bartender.

"Let's just say I'm a friend of theirs," said the tall-black guy, "...one was short, the other real tall and they would of had small acquaintances with your bartending friend Casey."

"You knew Casey?" asked the bartender.

"Ah... no, I didn't, but...uh... I know that those two guys were the last people to see her alive," said the black guy.

"Yeah, they were here, uh...tall one was Sam, I think, and the short one was Dean, yeah Sam and Dean Winchester, they were, came in here, caused abit of trouble, that Dean guy as hitting on Casey like something I'd never seen before, he left with her, then, never saw them again, they must of left town or something."

"Do you know where they were heading, did they mention anything?" the tall-shabby guy asked.

"No, they never mentioned anything,' said the bartender.

The black guy had a very distraught, angry look on his face.

"But, I did hear the short on, Dean, say two chicks names, um...what were they...uh...I think it was Ruby and Bela, if that helps," said the bartender.

"Thanks," said the tall guy, as from within his jacket, he pulled out a sharp knife.

A look of complete terror rose from the bartenders face, he dropped the glass that he was holding, as it hit the ground, a loud slash could be heard throughout the club, and he fell to the floor.

"Yeah...thanks. for nothing."

the tall guy turned his back on the dead bartender, and walked out of the front door.