AN: This is my first fanfic, so be gentle! Please review and tell me if something is completely out of wack or something like that. I don't know how how often I'll be able to update this, but I'll try to do it frequently.
0-0-0-0-0
"Sam. Saaam." Dean threw his burger wrapper over at his younger brother who was sleeping in the passenger seat of the Impala.
Sam started and looked around, confused. "Where are we?"
"Mobile, Alabama, remember?" Dean turned down the radio. "People in their late teens to early twenties have been going missing in large numbers. About one every three days."
"And this is our kind of case, whyyy?" Sam groaned, throwing Dean's wrapper back at him.
"Because, most of them reappear about three days later on the side of the road with their chests cut open and most major organs missing. And while the chests were cut open practically surgically, the organs looked like they'd been clawed out by animals." Dean explained, not looking away from the road.
"Most major organs?" Sam asked, wiping a bit of drool off of his chin.
"Yeah. Lungs, stomach, you name it. But they never took the heart. It was always left sitting there, alone."
"So what's the plan?" Sam asked.
"I figure we'll check into a motel, stop by the police station and introduce ourselves, then go talk to the latest victim's family. See where he was last seen, yada yada, details, and I figure we can go it by ear from then on."
"Latest victim?" Sam was still trying to blink the last remains of sleep out of his eyes.
"Uh, yeah." Dean stuck his hand in the backseat and rummaged around for a second. "Here." He tossed a packet of papers into Sam's lap. "I printed these up at the bunker."
"List of victims?" Sam thumbed through the large stack of papers.
"Yeah. I figured it might make it easier to keep track of them. The papers pinned together at the back are the one's that haven't shown back up." Dean explained absently.
"Look at you." Sam chuckled. "All organized. Did you make a new years resolution or something?"
"Hey," Dean grimaced with annoyance. "It is never too late to get your life in order, be that literally or not."
"Whatever." Sam snickered.
0-0-0-0-0
Dean knocked on the door, Sam close behind him. The door slowly eased open and a woman peered around the edge.
"Can I help you?" She asked shakily as she took in the two men's suits.
"Yeah, hi, I'm Agent Burke, this is Agent Adams. We're here investigating the death of your son, Mike Lister. May we come in?"
"Oh." The woman blinked. "Uh, yeah, sure." She stepped back from the door, opening it wider so the boys could come in. They followed her to the living room, where she shakily settled down on the couch. "What do you want to know?"
"Tell us exactly what your son did on the day he went missing." Sam requested with a soft smile.
The woman took a deep breath. "Well, it was his birthday. He'd just turned eighteen, so I said he could go out with some friends. You know...to a bar. He promised he wouldn't drink." She added quickly. "There was this band playing that night that he wanted to go see. He came home that night and went straight up to bed." She sniffled.
"About 3 AM, I heard loud noises from his room. It sounded like a fight, so I went up to see what was wrong. By the time I got there, the room was torn up and Mike was gone." Tears began to fall in streaks down the woman's face. "That was three days ago."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Lister. We're doing everything we can to find your son." Sam rested a hand on the now sobbing woman's shoulder.
Suddenly the phone Dean was using for his Agent alter-ego began to ring. "If you'll excuse me." He stood and went out onto the front porch. "This is Burke."
"Agent Burke, this is the sheriff, I thought I should call you to give you the latest on the case." The sheriff said stiffly.
"What's happened?"
"Some patrols just found another body. The Lister boy. Chest cut up just like the rest of them." The sheriff explained.
"Shit." Dean groaned. "I'm at his mother's house now. Do you need me to tell her?"
"I think that may be best." The sheriff answered quietly.
"Ok. Call me if anything else comes up." Dean sighed, then hung up the phone. He took a deep breath and went back into the house.
"I'm back." Sam looked up at his entrance.
"Can I speak to you in the hall?" Dean asked. Sam looked at Dean oddly for a moment, then nodded and followed his brother with a sympathetic look to Ms. Lister.
"Mrs. Lister gave me the name of the bar Mike went to. I figured we can go there next. We can go get changed first...Hey what's wrong?" Sam rambled before noticing his brother's face.
"They just found Mike's body." Dean said quietly. "He's dead, just like the rest of them."
The light in Sam's eyes died. "Do we need to tell her?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
0-0-0-0-0
A couple of hours later, Dean and Sam were pulling into the parking lot of the bar Mike had spent his last free night in. They had told his mother he was dead, and been met by subsequential sobbing. They had excused themselves not long after and practically fled from the house. They went to the motel and changed out of their suits so they wouldn't be noticed in the bar.
"Really?" Dean asked as he looked up at the dingy neon sign over the brick building. "The Last Stop?"
"That's where she said he went." Sam grimaced.
"How much more 'If you come here you'll probably die' can the name be?" Dean shook his head. "Do you know if any of the other victims were last here?"
"Yeah. I made a couple of calls while you were showering. At least two thirds of the victims had been here in the last five days before they went missing, but that isn't surprising because apparently it's a pretty popular place." Sam said.
"Why?" Dean asked as they entered the bar. "This place is nasty." The bar had a small stage at one end where a band was struggling to play a song. Some people were dancing in front of the stage, and others were either sitting in chairs around small tables with little amounts of food, and others were slumped over at the bar. There were lots of other people just milling around talking, making it hard to hear.
A girl who looked about twenty appeared in front of them. "Can I help you?" She had on a button down that was only buttoned for the lower half and a skirt so short that it could be called a belt. She was about 5'9", but four of those inches were from her shoes. Her nametag read Angie.
"Yes." Dean said with a devilish grin. "You most certainly can."
Angie looked him up and down, then turned to Sam. "Just sit at any of the tables that are empty, some one will be along to serve you soon. Try to keep your friend in his pants." Sam blushed and nodded. Angie disappeared into the crowd.
"Come on, Dean." Sam pushed his way through a group of people, muttering apologies as he bumped into them. He saw a table and began to make his way to it, but he accidentally bumped into a man in a suit.
"Sorry," he said, trying to keep moving.
The man grabbed his arm and smiled. There was a girl standing beside him that Sam's eyes were drawn to. She was wearing a low cut long sleeve shirt and extremely short shorts. Like every other girl there, she had on impossibly high heels. Sam met her soft green eyes just before her light brown hair fell over them.
"Is there a problem here?" Dean asked, entering the occurrence.
"No." The man drawled. "No problem, sir." He let go off Sam, then disappeared, pulling the girl with him. Sam watched them disappear.
"Sam." Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Keep moving."
Sam's eyes snapped to Dean's face, and then nodded. "Yeah, Ok."
0-0-0-0-0
Nothing happened at the bar. Sam and Dean stayed till long after midnight and watched the crowd of people thinning, but nothing happened.
"You wanna head back to the motel?" Dean asked Sam.
Sam sighed. "Yeah, I guess so." He stood. "Are you coming?"
Dean smiled deviously. "Nah, I think I want to see if that Angie's shift is over soon."
Sam shook his head at his brother, then made his way to the front of the bar. He pushed through the door into the cool night air. The Impala was waiting in the back corner of the parking lot under a dim street light. Before he got five steps away from the bar however, a hand grabbed him and pulled him to the side of the wall in the dark.
He prepared to fight, but to his surprise it was just the girl who'd been with the man from before. She looked young, her hair tumbling all around her face.
"What do you want?" Sam asked slightly roughly, pulling out of her grasp.
"You need to run." The girl said anxiously with wide eyes darting around.
"What?" Sam looked confused.
"Go. Get out of town. Now." She gave him a slight shove to the car. "Get in your car and don't look back. Go."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, but then the girl had pulled out of his grasp and was gone.
Sam contemplated going in to Dean, but he changed his mind when he yawned.
I'll tell him in the morning. Sam decided. Don't wanna ruin his fun with Angie.
Sam resumed his trek to the Impala, and after unlocking it, slid into the drivers seat. He started the car and began driving back to the motel.
0-0-0-0-0
When Sam got to the motel, he quickly entered the room, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. However, once the door was locked and he was lying down, he immediately forgot about it and fell asleep.
0-0-0-0-0
Sam woke up about three am to the door creaking open. "That was quick." He snorted sleepily, rolling away from the door. But there were no footsteps or the witty remark Sam was used to coming from Dean.
"Dean, are you OK?" Sam asked, rolling back over. Before his sleep addled brain could realize that it was not Dean's silhouette in the doorway, the figure was striding quickly across the floor and hitting Sam in the head with the long metal rod it clutched in its fingers.
Sam cried out once and tried to get up, but once the pole hit his head, he slumped back on the bed, unconscious.