A/N: Hey everyone! My final in my Creative Writing class was to write a fanfiction (at least 5 pages) and so I picked Supernatural, of course! Just thought I might as well post it as a one-shot on here too. I hope I get a good grade, wish me luck!

Please R&R, it would mean so much. Only warnings here are for a little bit of violence and some language.

Enjoy!

Untitled Case Fic

Click, click, click.

Dean squinted open his eyes, wondering who was making that incessant noise and disrupting his sleep.

"Sam?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

The tapping stopped. Dean finally opened his eyes and saw Sam sitting at the little table in the motel room they were currently staying in. He had a pen between his teeth and he was staring intensely at the computer screen. The sound started again. Sam was clicking the pen against his teeth.

Dean grunted. He rose from the dingy motel bed and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower.

When he was done, he walked out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry his hair.

"Find a case?" Dean questioned

"I think so. Detroit, Michigan. Listen to this. 'Man found dead under a bridge with no blood in his body'," Same read the headline.

"Think it's a vamp?" Dean asked

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it. And that's not the only article. There's four more murders with the exact same MO." Sam spoke, slowly, "But here's the weird thing; there was also black goo found at every scene. I'm thinking it might be ectoplasm."

"So we're dealing with a vamp ghost?" Dean asked. Sam hummed in agreement, getting up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head.

"Let me just take a shower and then we can head out on the road."

"Okay Samantha, just don't take an hour" Dean said sarcastically.

"Jerk." Sam replied, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him

"Bitch" Dean added, yelling over the spray of the shower.

It was only 37 more minutes before Dean slammed the trunk on his baby, their belongings packed and ready to go.

Dean and Sam got into the car, the former immediately turning on Metallica at full blast. Sam immediately turned it down.

"C'mon dude, do we have to listen to this again?" Sam whined

"Yes, we do. You know the rules. Drier picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean smirked, turning the music up again. Sam slouched in his seat and glanced out the window, only pretending to be annoyed, though he would never admit it.

It was around four hours later that they passed the sign reading, "Welcome to Michigan" and another two before they saw the sign welcoming them to Detroit.

They dropped off their things at the nearest motel, changing into suits, before heading to the police station.

Walking into the precinct, Dean reached into his suit pocket at the same time as his brother and pulled out his badge.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Dean Kent and this Special Agent Sam Wayne," Dean stated, gesturing to his brother, approaching the front desk, "We're here about the recent murders"

The girl at the front desk glanced up and realization took over, "Oh yes," she spoke, "Your boss called us, telling us you'd be here soon. The Sheriff will see you now."

She beckoned to an office in the back of the room. Dean and Sam walked confidently towards it, knocking on the door. They heard a faint, "Come in" from inside.

Pushing open the door, the two brothers reintroduced themselves, shaking hands with the Sheriff.

"Hello, I'm Sheriff Linda Johnson, thank you for coming." She introduced herself, then walked around her large desk, beckoning the brothers to follow her. "Let's take a look at the bodies," She said as she lead them to an elevator. They took it to the basement and walked up to a door marked, 'Autopsy'.

A grey-haired man looked up as the door creaked open.

"Hello Sheriff, Agents" he spoke, nodding to Sam and Dean, having already been informed of their arrival. There were five bodies lying on the metal tables, four of them covered with sheets, the fifth only covered from the waist down. The Medical examiner introduced himself as Dr. Don Westfield.

"So all five victims were completely drained of their blood, pre-mortem, which is why their skin is so alarmingly pale." Dr. Westfield explained. A loud ding sounded through the room and the doctor headed to the computer where the sound originated from. "I just got the victims toxicology reports back. They're all clean, no drugs in their system. Now, the only thing I don't know is what this substance found at the scene is." Dr. Westfield headed over to a table and picked up a clear container filled with a black goo.

Dean took it from his hands and swished it around in the container. He held it up to his nose and took a whiff. Dean made a face and turned to Sam, whispering, "Definitely ectoplasm. So we are, at least, dealing with a spirit."

Sam nodded his head, holding the autopsy report the doctor had handed to him only moments prior. "Yeah, and it seems like you were right," he added quietly, "it looks to be a vampire as well. Two puncture wounds on each of the victims' necks and the fact that there was no blood. Two of the victims had defensive wounds, but the other three…" he paused, "Maybe they were taken by surprise." Sam wondered aloud.

Dean mumbled his agreement.

They thanked the sheriff and doctor and headed back upstairs and out to the Impala.

Sam and Dean drove to the nearest diner, ordering lunch and talking about the case.

Sam brought out his laptop and started research. "So it looks like there was an unsolved case just like this 6 years ago in Grand Rapids. There were three victims, all drained of blood before the killings just stopped."

"Okay" Dean said, "So the guy probably died or got arrested or something." Dean added with his mouth full of a cheeseburger. "God, this burger's good" Dean gushed.

Sam made a face at Dean talking with his mouth full before looking back to his computer, picking at his salad with his fork with one hand.

"Okay so I looked at all the deaths right after the last murder and looked for deaths specifically with the victim's head ripped off, seeing as that's the only thing that can kill a vamp. And surprisingly, I found three incidences. One, a 34-year-old woman, Alicia Werthers, was hit by a train and her head separated from her neck." Dean made a face at the mental picture, but then shook his head, indicating Sam move on to the next person.

"The second and third ones were named Carl Livingston and Adam Franks who were both murdered. Livingston just had his head chopped off, while Franks' arms were missing too." Sam spoke, sounding disgusted. "I think we should look into Livingston first. It sounds like he might've been a vamp that another hunter just got to but didn't burn the bones. The Franks case sounds just like a crazy son-of-a-bitch, but still a human." Dean looked thoughtful, then nodded, replying, "Okay, I'll go talk to his next of kin and you figure out where Livingston is buried." Sam looked up the address of his relative and wrote it down before handing it to Dean.

Dean got up from the booth and popped a last fry in his mouth before exiting the diner.

Dean pulled up to the house and got out of his car, trudging up to the front porch. He rang the doorbell. A woman opened the door, only half of her face showing as the door only opened so far with the chain locking it in place.

"Hello?" She asked

"Yes, Mrs. Livingston? Hello, I'm Special Agent Kent, I want to talk to you about your brother, Carl." Dean spoke, pulling out his badge again and showing it to her.

"Oh, um okay." She replied, closing the door. Dean could hear her sliding the chain before the door opened once again. "Come on in"

She lead Dean to a living room and sat down.

"What is this about?" she asked

"I just have a few questions about your brother. I am sorry for your loss."

"Now, your brother, Carl, what was he like growing up?" Dean asked.

"He- he was difficult. He always acted out and my parents never put up with it. He was sent to a youth group to try and learn how to behave. Carl- he- first he hated it, but then, after a few months, he started acting differently."

"Different how?" Dean asked

"He was suddenly very cocky, like overly confident. The only time I saw him even slightly vulnerable was when I fell down the stairs in 11th grade. I cut open my arm and Carl just went pale. He rushed out of the house and just left me there, bleeding. I called for my mom and when she found me, we had to go to the hospital and I had to get stitches. Carl- he didn't come home until hours later. My parents were furious. But he just left again."

"When exactly was this?" Dean asked

"Hmm… it, you know, it had to be June of 2009, yes I remember it perfectly because I was watching the news waiting for him to come home when I heard about the murder. A sixteen-year-old girl. She was killed and drained of blood. It was horrible. All of my friends and I were scared to leave our houses for months after that. And then two more people were killed the same way. God, it was terrifying. And then…" she trailed off.

"Then what happened?" Dean asked gently.

"Then, some guy came asking about Carl one night. He wanted to know if he'd been acting differently, and I told him the truth, figuring he was from the youth group and was just checking up on him." She paused again, "Then, Carl was murdered. He was killed right around when the other murders stopped. It was peculiar. We figured the killer moved on from Grand Rapids or something. But they never found Carl's killer. I went to his youth group one night and asked about the guy that came to see me at my house and no one had ever heard of him. I thought, 'Holy shit. Did he have something to do with Carl's death?', but I had no way to find out. I never saw him again.

A few minutes later, Dean walked back out onto the front porch, shaking hands with Mrs. Livingston.

"Thank you for your time ma'am." Dean walked back out to the street and got into his baby.

He pulled out his phone and called Sam.

"Hey, I think this is our guy. Did you find where he was buried?"

Sam replied with an affirmative, "Elmwood Cemetery".

"Meet you there" Dean answered before hanging up.

He reached the cemetery with no problem. He got out of his car and saw Sam waiting on a nearby bench.

"Hey, find him?" Dean asked

"Yeah, he's over here." Sam lead his brother over to a marked grave reading, 'Carl Livingston- loving brother and son, taken too soon'.

They started digging and about an hour later, finally hit the coffin. They opened it and poured gasoline and salt over the remains before lighting a match and dropping it in. The flames burned for a while before dying down, and Sam look nonplussed, "That was unusually easy." Dean agreed. There were no spirits trying to attack and no ghosts going up in flames. It was odd.

"Huh."

They headed back to the motel to get some rest. It was 4:36 in the morning when Dean got a call on his phone. "Agent Kent" he answered drowsily.

"Hm. Okay. Be right there." Sam was sitting up in bed, looking at Dean, wondering who was on the phone.

"That was the Sheriff" Dean answered the unasked question, "There's been another murder."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Hmm." He replied, "I'm pretty sure we got the right guy which means he's probably tied to an object." Dean nodded his head, before getting out of bed and getting dressed.

They went back to Mrs. Livingston's house and talked to her again once it was a more appropriate time. They found out that when Carl's body was found, his belongings were donated to the youth group. They headed over to the church where the group was located. It was back in Detroit, where the murders were occurring.

They walked into the church hesitantly, and suddenly Dean had an idea.

He pulled out his knife and cut a thin line on his hand. Blood rushed to the surface and Sam and Dean could hear glass shattering in a nearby room. A man rushed out, blood lust on his face, and Dean immediately pushed him up against a wall. He thrashed back and forth, but Dean was able to hold him steady. "Sam, go get the knife from the trunk" Sam rushed out to the car and was back in moments with a large knife. He tossed it to Dean who caught it one-handed.

"Are you the only vamp?" Dean hissed angrily.

The vampire simply growled in response. Dean pushed the knife against his knife and the scared vampire squeaked out, "Y-yes, now please don't-". He didn't get to finish as Dean pushed the knife in hard as he could, effectively cutting off the vamp's head. "I guess we found who turned Carl." Dean pushed back from the wall. They left the body there and walked into the office the vamp was exiting from before.

They immediately found what they were looking for. Mrs. Livingston had said that she had donated Carl's favorite ring to the youth center, something he was never seen without. The ring was sitting in a desk drawer. Dean and Sam started to salt the ring and pulled out a match when suddenly the room got very cold.

Sam exhaled and saw his breath in the air. He turned around and was thrown violently against a cabinet, shattering the glass doors, and fell to the floor, still conscious but just barely.

"C'mon Dean, light it up!" he grumbled.

Dean had glanced up as Sam was thrown across the room and was, in turn, pushed up against the nearest wall, an invisible hand around his throat. He gasped for air, reaching his hand for the shotgun he had leaned against the desk. He finally grasped it as Carl Livingston's ghost appeared and he shot blindly, his vision obscured by the tears his eyes had produced from being choked. The spirit disappeared in a burst of salt from the salt round, and Dean dropped down to the floor, wheezing for air. He crawled over to where he dropped the ring, and lit a match before holding it to the metal. Just as the flame touched the ring, Livingston's ghost appeared once again, but as he rushed forward, he erupted into flames, yelling in pain before he vanished completely.

Dean leaned back, trying to catch his breath and looked over at Sam. "You okay dude?" Dean asked.

Sam simply held a thumbs up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Dean helped him up and they got into the car and headed back to the motel.

They packed up their belongings, wanting to leave town before the cops found the beheaded vamp at the church.

They got back into Dean's baby and Sam groaned, his head pounding from being thrown. "Here, you big baby" Dean teased, tossing him a bottle of Advil.

"Jerk" Sam mumbled, popping to pills in his mouth and dry-swallowing them. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for the drugs to take effect.

"Bitch" Dean replied, but as he looked over, he saw that Sam was already fast asleep.

He smirked to himself and started the engine of the Impala, pulling out onto the open road, heading nowhere in particular.