Disclaimer: It is one of my sincerest regrets that I do not own Supernatural or the Winchester boys. Sorry to all of those who thought I did.
New Carille, New York
Two young women, probably in their early twenties, are jogging along a paved, twilit path through a darkening forest. Upon reaching a fork in the road, one path paved, the other path merely a dirt trail, they pause.
Olivia: Hey, Rosie, let's go down this path.
She gestures to the trail that disappears into the trees along their right
Rosie: Okay.
The two continue jogging, until they reach a creek.
Olivia: Rosie?
Rosie: Yeah?
Olivia: Maybe we should go back. This place is creepy.
Rosie: You're right. Let's go.
They turn around and begin jogging back the way they had come. Behind them is the silhouette of something very large and hairy. Olivia stops to catch her breath, and Rosie stops a few paces ahead of her.
Rosie: Everything okay?
Olivia nods.
Olivia: Go on back. I'll catch up in a minute.
Rosie: Okay.
After a few seconds, Olivia stands up straight and begins to jog again. She stops at the sound of low growling coming from behind her. She turns around to face the thing. Upon seeing it, Olivia screams in terror, and the growl turns into an enraged bellowing.
Rosie, only a few yards ahead, immediately turns and begins sprinting towards Olivia.
Rosie: Olivia? Olivia!
Both Olivia and the mysterious creature that attacked her have vanished.
[Fade]
Sam and Dean Winchester are standing outside a rustic gas station with the name "Miller's Gas: The finest gasoline in New York state." Dean is busily pumping fuel into the Impala's gas tank, while Sam is intensely scrutinizing a local newspaper for mysterious deaths.
Sam: Hey, Dean. Come look at this.
Dean finishes, and slides a fake credit card through the pump's reader in payment. Then he joins Sam by the passenger side door.
Dean: What is it?
Sam: Well, Olivia Henderson, age 23, went missing in some woods last week while out jogging with her friend, Rosie Ellman, also 23. She claims that before Olivia vanished, she saw something big, black, and hairy stalking them through the woods.
Dean: You think it's bigfoot?
Sam: Quit joking around, Dean. I don't know what it could be. It seems to me that if it is something supernatural, it might be something we haven't encountered yet.
Dean: So, what? When we meet this son of a bitch, we take it out to tea or something?
Sam: Very funny, Dean. Whatever it is, it's in New Carille, which shouldn't be all that far away from where we are now.
Dean: Okay. Let's go find this big, bad beastie, shall we?
Sam rolls his eyes and they both get into the Impala.
[Fade]
Dean is driving the Impala down the highway, Sweet's "Fox on the Run" playing. Sam, sitting shotgun, is asleep. Dean glances at his brother, grins mischievously, and gives Sam a good hard jab in the ribs. Sam wakes up very suddenly, banging his head on the roof of the Impala in the process. Dean laughs,but Sam scowls and rubs his forehead.
Dean: About time, sleeping beauty. We're almost there!
Sam: You didn't have to poke me that hard.
Dean: Yes I did. It lightened my spirit, seeing you make a fool of yourself.
Sam: (sarcastically) Yeah, ha, ha. Very funny.
The Impala pulls into a bumpy cobblestone driveway and halts in front of a rundown old inn.
Dean: Well, Sammy, this is where that Rosie chick is staying. She's still waiting for her friend to turn up.
Sam: I wonder how old it is.
Dean: Probably around two centuries, I'd guess. It looks about two hundred years old, anyway.
They get out of the Impala and head up to the inn, a very old sign swinging from a post outside the door.
Sam: This place is creepy. It looks abandoned.
Dean: Wuss.
They enter the inn.
Inside, an elderly woman is sitting behind the check-in counter. She smiles when she sees the Winchesters enter, and stands up to greet them cordially.
Antonette: Can I help you boys? I'm Antonette Valleriea, by the way. You call me Antonette.
Dean: Yeah, uh, we'd like to check in, please.
Antonette: Why certainly! What is your preference, a king, or two queens?
Sam: Two queens, please.
Antonette smiles again, and runs her finger down a list affixed to a clipboard.
Antonette: Room 25 is open, boys. I'll have Eloise help you with your luggage. Eloise! Where are you?
Suddenly, a girl with long, navy-blue hair appears in a doorway. She has somewhat pale skin with a smattering of barely visible freckles, as though she avoids going outside if she can, and is wearing blue jeans and a blue jean jacket with a royal blue t-shirt underneath.
Eloise: Yeah Antonette? What's up?
Antonette: You help these boys with their luggage, dear. And don't scare them away like you did the last few guests!
Eloise: Okay.
Eloise picks up one of Sam's bags, the one loaded up with some of the arsenal from the Impala's trunk, with some difficulty.
Eloise: What, do you carry around bricks or something?
Sam: I can get that...
Eloise: Naw, it's fine. I'm used to carrying heavy loads up and down staircases.
Sam and Dean exchange glances.
Dean: So, what did Antonette mean when she asked you to not scare us away?
Eloise: Oh, she just wants me to shut up about them.
Sam: About who?
Eloise: You'll probably think I'm crazy.
Dean: Try us.
Eloise: Okay. Antonette wants me to shut up about the infestation of the little folk in the forest next door.
Dean: Ho-kay... uh... Sammy, you wanna take this one?
Eloise: They killed that Olivia person, you know. Something out there doesn't want to be bothered, and Olivia Henderson bothered it. Well, here's your room. Enjoy your stay.
Eloise leaves the Winchesters standing in front of room #25, dumbstruck.
Dean: I dunno about you, but I kinda understand now why Antonette told her not to scare us away.
[Fade]
The Winchesters enter the dining room of the inn. Eloise is leaning against the hostess' podium, but straightened up at the sight of them.
Eloise: Oh, hi. Can I seat you?
Sam: Yes, please. Thank you. I'm Sam, by the way, and this is my brother Dean.
Eloise: Nice to meet you. I'm Eloise, as you ought to know. C'mon. Follow me.
Dean: Okay.
Eloise nods and sets off across the threadbare carpet of the dining room. Dean glances back at Sam and grins before following Eloise. Sam tsks and shakes his head and continues following Dean.
Eloise: Well, here you two are. Table for two, and dinner'll be right out.
The Winchesters sit down at the table.
Dean: What, we don't get to order? What is this-
Eloise: Aw, shut up.
Sam: I have a question for you, Eloise.
Eloise: Yeah? What is it?
Sam: It's about your...uh... unusual hair.
Eloise: What about it? Spit it out already. I know my hair is weird. So what about it?
Sam: Well, I was wondering: Why blue? I mean, if you're going to dye your hair, why not, say, tomato red?
Eloise's eyes flash with sudden anger.
Eloise: Well, blue is the best way to keep them at bay. You really don't know much about them, do you?
Dean: Well, I'm sure we'd love to be better informed.
Eloise: Nice try. I have to help serve dinner, but I'm willing to chat later. So, see ya later.
Sam: Well, nice talking to you, Eloise.
Eloise nods and goes to a swinging door at the other end of the room, presumably to the kitchen. Sam and Dean exchange a look.
Dean: Well, there's a crazy person if ever I saw one.
Sam: I'm not so sure, Dean.
Dean: Whaddya mean?
Sam: I mean that she just doesn't seem insane to me.
[Fade]
Sam and Dean have finished their dinner, and Eloise walks over to talk.
Eloise: You're done? Now, what intel can I give you guys on the little folk?
Sam: Whatever you know for sure.
Eloise: You got no idea, do you?
Sam: No idea of what?
Eloise: All I really know is how to keep 'em away. Wearing blue usually does the trick, but sometimes it takes something extra, like salt and iron filings.
Dean: Iron filings?
Eloise: Yeah. You've heard of salt keeping away all manner of demons and stuff, iron makes the stuff even more potent.
Sam: I'm curious, why are you telling us all of this?
Eloise: Why not? I can tell you're not them. Fairly easily, actually. Demons, too. What you should be wondering is if I'm a demon or not. I'll give you proof, look.
Eloise rolls up the right sleeve of her jacket to reveal a circular tattoo, identical to the ones that Sam and Dean have to ward of demonic possession. Sam glances at Dean.
Sam: Okay, so, uh, somehow this proves that you're not a demon.
Eloise: Nope. I've done enough research to figure such things out. There haven't been many, but some demons found their way up here a couple years ago.
Dean: Demons? You know a lot about them?
Eloise: No. I wish I did. I wish I knew more about the little folk. All I do know is that there are things out there in the woods, things that are the stuff of nightmares.
Sam: Do you know what happened to that girl?
Eloise: No, but I can get Rosie to talk to you. Come on. She's sitting over there. What's your angle?
Dean: Uh... Well, we're FBI agents looking into that Olivia chick's disappearance.
Eloise: Thought so. The FBI seems to take an unusual interest in this part of New York. Come on.
Eloise leads the Winchesters to a corner table, where Rosie Ellman sits alone.
Eloise: Hi, Rosie. These guys want to talk to you. They're FBI agents. They're looking for Olivia.
Rosie: But, I already answered a ton of questions. I don't understand.
Sam: Well, Rosie, we just need to know exactly what happened that evening.
Dean: Everything. At this point, anything could make or break this investigation. Did Olivia seem to be acting out of the ordinary in any way?
Rosie: No, we were just jogging through the woods. We took a fork in the road, but it was creepy, so we turned back.
Sam: What happened then?
Rosie: She needed to catch her breath, so she stopped. She told me to keep going, so I did. A few seconds later, I heard her screaming. By the time I got there, she was gone.
Dean: And you didn't see anything strange or out of the ordinary?
Rosie: Well, there was one thing.
Sam: Yeah? And what was it? Could you see?
Rosie: It was right before I rounded a bend in the path- I thought I saw something really, really tall, and covered in this coarse, black hair. At least, I think it was black. I couldn't really tell because of the moonlight. I don't know what it was, but I guess that it could have been about the size of a small bear. Its head didn't look like a bear's head, though.
Dean: And you have no idea what it could have been?
Rosie: No, none.
Sam: Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Ellman.
The Winchesters and Eloise retreat to a quiet corner of the lobby to talk over what they had just heard.
Eloise: So, that mean anything to you?
Dean: Well, I know that if it's been killing people, it ain't no friggin' fairy.
Eloise: You'd be surprised, Deannie. I've survived about eighteen different attacks from these monsters, and they aren't nice. They're ready and willing to kill if they don't get what they want.
Dean looks a bit miffed at Eloise's nickname for him, but decides to let it slide for the moment.
Dean: So? What do they want?
Eloise: I dunno. All I know is that these things killed my entire family. They could want the job to be finished.
Sam: Is that why you need protection from them? They want to kill you?
Eloise: Yeah. I'm fairly certain that they do want to kill me, seeing as every year, every May fourteenth, a new wave of mysterious disappearances and deaths comes around town. The little folk are sending something- something I haven't been able to identify yet.
Sam: Why May fourteenth?
Eloise: I don't know! That's what's been driving me insane for my entire life! Antonette has told me that as a little girl, I had a favourite blanket- a blue blanket, and that every May fourteenth at sundown, she felt something evil walk the floorboards of this very inn. I don't know why, but blue is the colour that keeps me safe.
Dean: Oh. Well, we'll keep trying to I.D. this thing, you just keep safe until dawn.
Sam and Dean nod at Eloise, and the Winchesters mount the stairs to the second floor. In their room, now, Sam and Dean are sitting, discussing what Eloise has told them.
Sam: Deannie?
Dean: Shut up, Sam.
Sam: Okay.
Dean: We don't know if this Eloise kid is telling the truth, or if she's just really out of it.
Sam: There's one way to find out.
Dean: Yeah? And how's that?
Sam: Dean, we have to go out there and track this thing.
Dean: Yeah, but first we have to I.D. the damn thing! How're we gonna do that, Sammy? Sift through fairy tales?
Sam: I don't know. Let's see if Dad's journal has anything helpful to offer.
Dean reaches for the journal, only to be interrupted by a loud scream from the lobby.
Dean: That sounds like Eloise!
The Winchesters spring up and race out of the room and down the staircase to the lobby below.
Sam: Oh, no.
Antonette lies dead on the carpet, half of her face torn off, her hands covered with blood. Eloise stands by the doors to the dining room, her hands covering her mouth in horror.
[Fade]
Dean: So, Eloise, what exactly did you see?
Eloise: It was one of them. I'm sure of it. The nastiest one I've seen so far! It was, like seven feet tall, and had a face like a mole!
Sam: Try to calm down, Eloise. What did it do?
Eloise: Well, it tried to go for me first. It couldn't drag me away, because I'm wearing so much blue. But it gave me this.
Eloise gestures at a fresh set of angry and bleeding claw marks, just below her left eye. Sam and Dean wince in unison.
Eloise: After that, I gave it a little taste of salt and iron, but that didn't seem to work very well. Then, I grabbed the closest thing to my hand, this fork here, and stabbed it. By the noise it was making, you'd think it was dying in agony. Then Antonette came in, and it went for her, and tore half her face off! And now, she's dead, that thing is gone, and the cops suspect me!
Dean: What'd you tell the cops?
Eloise: Why do you keep asking me so many weird questions? About beings that no one here but me believes exists?
Sam: Hey, calm down Eloise.
Eloise: No! Not until you quit giving me this crap about your being FBI agents! I know it's not true, so who are you, really?
Sam: Dean, we have to tell her.
Dean: No.
Eloise: Tell me, Sam. Ignore Deannie.
Dean scowls, and Sam grins.
Sam: We're hunters.
Dean: Sammy, I told you to shut up.
Sam: You shut up, Dean. These things killed her family. Sound familiar?
Dean only glares in response, but makes no further objection.
Eloise: What do you mean by hunters?
Sam: We hunt things like this, things that are supernatural, things that don't have a so-called "rational" explanation.
Eloise: Like the little folk.
Sam: Exactly like them. But you need to answer the questions we ask you.
Eloise: I told the cops that a man in a ski mask broke in here and went berserk. Simple as that. I have a sneaking suspicion that they still suspect me, though.
Dean: Any idea what it really is?
Eloise: It could be any number of things, Deannie. But don't worry, I've done my homework. The only thing with coarse black fur and a face like a mole that I could find over seven feet tall was a buggane.
Dean scowls again.
Dean: Do me a favor, and don't call me Deannie. Any idea what can hurt it?
Eloise: I didn't get to that part before the cops came. The website is still open on my computer.
The Winchesters follow Eloise up two flights of stairs to a door marked "Private" Eloise opens the door, and carefully steps over a line of salt and small bits of something dark, like pepper.
Eloise: That's salt and iron filings. Be careful, will you?
Sam and Dean pause for a moment before following Eloise into the room, Sam shutting the door behind him.
Sam: Why do you trust us so much?
Eloise, already seated at a desk with a laptop resting on it, doesn't even glance back at him.
Eloise: Because I can see things. I know things about people. I know that you two aren't killers or creepers or anything like that. I know people when I see them. Although, you, Sam, I trust completely, Deannie over there, well, I'm not so sure about.
Dean: Hey! What's that supposed to mean?
Eloise: Whatever you make of it, Deannie. Here, I got the website.
Dean: Yeah? And?
Eloise: It says that bugganes can't cross running water, although they will occasionally nest by a waterfall, and sunlight should destroy it completely. Salt and iron won't even work for warding it off, the most we can hope it does is make it sneeze, not kill it outright. You want to find its nest, drive it out, and hopefully stall it until dawn. It also says something about silver, but that's very vague.
Dean: What does it say?
Eloise: It says that "the blade of a silver alloy may prove fatal." I'm not sure if that's in reference to you or the buggane.
Sam: Those two girls probably stumbled onto its nest, and that's why it went after them!
Eloise: One more thing. This website says that it is "intelligent and may talk to people on occasion."
Dean: Right. Come on, Sammy, let's gear up and find those Mole Men!
Sam follows Dean out of the room, Eloise watching them carefully.
Eloise: Look for bones.
[Fade]
Dean: So, they were jogging down this paved path here, and Rosie said they came to a fork.
Sam: Where's the fork, though?
Eloise: You'll never find it if you keep blundering around here all night.
Dean and Sam whirl around to face Eloise, standing serenely in the dappled moonlight.
Dean: What the hell are you doing here?
Eloise: I knew you'd need my help. You just ran out of my room with no rhyme or reason to kill this thing, didn't you? And you can't even see what's right in front of you. That's kind of pathetic, Deannie.
Sam: What do you mean? We've been looking for that fork for over an hour now!
Eloise: Right here. Look.
Eloise takes a few steps to the right, off of the pavement, and halts.
Eloise: See? This is the path they took, I'm sure of it. Come on.
Dean: You're not coming, kid. You're in enough danger out here as it is.
Eloise: Oh, then I'll just mosey on back to the inn, shall I? I'll be sure to scream extra-loud so you can hear me when the buggane kills me and rips my face off!
Sam and Dean both sigh in defeat.
Eloise: Yeah, that's right. And I bet you didn't think to bring an offering of bread, didya?
Sam: What?
Eloise: I thought not. Here, catch. Those'll protect you from being abducted for now.
Eloise throws two sizeable leather pouches at the two Winchesters. Dean catches his, but Sam fumbles, almost dropping it.
Sam: These are heavy.
Eloise: What do you expect? It's barley-cake, of course it's heavy! You two are the strangest hunters I've met.
Dean: So you've met other hunters.
Eloise: None that would tell me they were hunters, but yeah. Who are you, anyway?
Sam: Sam and Dean Winchester, at your service.
Eloise: Balin and Dwalin, huh?
Dean: What?
Eloise: Never mind. It ain't my fault if you haven't read "The Hobbit." But anyway, I'm Eloise Murphy. Of Irish stock, yes. And I need to learn how to hunt.
Sam: Look, Eloise, we don't have time to have this argument with you. The answer to your question is no.
Eloise: Whatever. Lia said you would come around.
Sam: Who?
Eloise: Lia. L-I-A. She sends me dreams, or tries to anyway. Honestly, she's been getting a bit cryptic lately. All she ever sends me now are visions of three guns: two Winchester rifles and a Colt Paterson. Now can you tell me why that could be? I think I've figured it out now. You two are the Winchesters, and you must have some connection to the Colt, but I don't know if it's supposed to be a person or just a gun.
Dean: I'm just gonna ignore that for the time being.
Eloise: Lia hasn't been wrong yet. But anyway, I'm not going back. This is mostly because I don't want a face-lift, courtesy of the buggane.
Dean: (Sighing) Do you know how to handle a shotgun?
Eloise: Kind of. Antonette's husband took me shooting a couple of times before he bit it.
Sam: Here. This one has a bit of a kickback, so be careful with it. Silver bullets, and all.
Eloise: So, what's the game plan?
Dean: Game plan? We find this thing and figure out how to kill it, that's the game plan.
Eloise: So you're just diving right in?
Dean: Yep.
Eloise: Huh. Well, time's a-wasting!
Eloise waits for the Winchesters to take the lead, and she follows behind them, a spring in her step.
Sam: Dean, how are we going to kill this thing?
Dean: Good question. Eloise, have anything you want to share with the class?
Eloise: It said that the sun destroys their power. And silver could prove fatal.
Dean: Well, that'll be fun.
Eloise stops and turns rather suddenly to examine a body of dead leaves and treeroots.
Eloise: Hey, guys. Look at this.
Sam and Dean turn to see what Eloise is talking about, and Eloise carefully moves a large tree branch that reveals a big hole at the base of a tree.
Sam: Monster lair?
Dean: Almost definitely.
The three enter cautiously and peer around in the dim light. They can see the shadows of many human bones, and there is a rank stench in the air. Eloise bends over to inspect something more closely. She comes up with a pink-and-red running shoe.
Eloise: Well, I'd say that this is where Olivia ended up. I don't see the buggane around, though.
Suddenly, a scratching noise can be heard and the buggane appears after burrowing into its den.
The buggane blinks once in apparent surprise, then roars and goes after them, trying to claw at them with its huge forepaws.
Dean: Yeah, uh, now might be a good time to RUN!
Dean fires a shot at the buggane to slow it down, but before Eloise has time to move, it takes a swing at her, giving the right side of her face new scars to match the ones from earlier.
Eloise scrambles up the steep slope of the entrance to the buggane's lair, but she trips just a few feet from the entrance. The shotgun that Sam had given to her skids across the forest floor and out of reach.
The buggane bears down upon her, seemingly only intent upon Eloise. With manic haste, Eloise searches her pockets for something to ward the buggane off. Finally, as a last, desperate attempt to buy some time, she reaches her own pouch of iron filings and flings a handful up at it just as Sam fires another silver round, missing the beast's heart but hitting it none the less. The buggane roars again, flailing madly, while Eloise stays low and crawls to retrieve the shotgun. Once it is safely clasped in her hands, she stands and aims it at the buggane, with Sam and Dean standing nearby, ready to shoot the beast should it begin attacking.
With a hiss, a whiny insistent voice, almost human, comes from the buggane's mouth.
Buggane: Why do you hurt me? I haven't done anything wrong!
Sam: You killed Olivia Henderson. Probably many others, too. In my book, that qualifies as very wrong.
Buggane: But I was hungry! It's unfair to thrust a steak in front of a starving man- Why am I any different?
Eloise: Because you're one of theirs.
The buggane looks at Eloise, malice in its myopic eyes.
Buggane: You belong to them, too, Murphy-Child. Ever since before you were born. But when they came to collect their due, did your father allow them to peacefully take you away? No. He fought, and by fighting, cursed himself and you!
Eloise cocks her gun.
Eloise: Shut up.
Buggane: What has happened here you brought upon yourself, Murphy-Child. All that happens here is your fault! The blood of the people who have died is on your hands!
Eloise remains expressionless as she pulls the trigger, sending another silver round at the beast, straight into its heart. The buggane shrieks in agony, shrieking even louder when it sees the sun climb over the horizon. As the sun comes up, the buggane begins to combust, sparks flying up into the air and dying as they drift nearer to the forest floor.
Dean: What? That's it?
Eloise: It's dead.
Dean: Now how are you so sure?
Eloise: I know when things are dead. We hit it with both sunlight and silver. It's dead.
Dean: Ho-kay...
Sam: We should probably get out of here in case it starts a forest fire.
Eloise: Good idea.
Dean: I must say, I like the cleanup.
Eloise: What cleanup? It just exploded.
Dean: Exactly. Makes the job that much easier.
Eloise: Yeah. I imagine it would.
The three walk briskly back to the inn in the chill morning air.
[Fade]
Eloise: So, Sam and Deannie Winchester. Have you reconsidered yet if you were going to teach me how to hunt these little sons of bitches?
Dean: We'll get back to you on that.
The Winchesters retreat to the opposite corner of the lobby.
Sam: Dean, these things killed her family. She really does want to learn.
Dean: I know. And without her distracting the buggane, it probably would have killed us without pause.
Sam: Or even found it in the first place.
Dean: Yeah, but... How old is she? Eighteen?
Sam: We were younger when Dad taught us. I say if she's overage, Eloise can do any damn thing she wants to. I mean, everyone gets into hunting somehow.
Dean: She can handle a shotgun, I guess. And Dad's journal didn't say anything about the damn buggane. I wonder how good she is at lying.
Sam: Let's hope, for now, not very. She seems pretty good at fishing out lies, though.
Dean: So we let her tag along if she's legal? Teach her how to lie?
Sam: Yeah. Sounds like a plan.
The Winchesters return to where Eloise is standing, waiting for them.
Eloise: So? What's the verdict?
Sam: Eloise, we need to know how old you are before we decide. And we need you to answer truthfully.
Eloise: I turned eighteen two months ago. But the real question is, how're we going to explain this to Antonette's daughter?
Dean: Who?
Eloise: Antonette's daughter Elizabeth inherited this inn, which means she's coming to run the place. When she called, she also informed me that she had inherited guardianship over me. What are we going to tell her?
Sam: You could tell her you've gone to college.
Eloise: Where? She'll want to know what college would accept crazy old me?
Dean: What state has she never been to?
Eloise: A ton. She lives in Massachusetts, so I can't lie about any of the colleges there.
Sam: Has she ever been to Ohio?
Eloise: Nope, don't think so.
Sam: Tell her you've gone to Zanesville College, and give her your cellphone number.
Eloise: So what then? When she calls me, answer and tell her how great college is going?
Dean: Yeah, that's pretty much the plan.
Eloise: So, there's that. I'm assuming that you've decided to teach me?
Dean: Yeah. You can tag along if you really want to, pledge.
Eloise: Yup. I'm all packed already, after all, Lia did say that you'd come around eventually.
Eloise reaches up and hugs both Winchesters around the neck. Behind her back, Sam and Dean glance at each other before awkwardly patting Eloise on the back.
Eloise: Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me. What made you decide to bring me along, anyway?
Dean: Well, we poked around your room a bit while you were gone, and we didn't find any black magic kinda stuff.
Sam: Also we researched your family a little bit. Your father, Jack Murphy, had six children. On May fourteenth, 1991, all but one, his youngest daughter, Eloise, was killed in a horrible earthquake that made the house collapse. That house is nowhere near a fault line, Eloise. Something killed your family, and we're going to find out what and why.
Eloise: What happened to Jack Murphy?
Sam: He moved to New Carille, made some friends, and was found dead on his lawn one morning. The file says that he died of starvation. That was in 1995.
Eloise releases Dean and Sam, smiles a bit wistfully, and she dashes upstairs to retrieve her stuff.
Outside now, the Winchesters throw their respective duffel bags into the trunk of the Impala. Eloise pauses, then follows suit with her own blue canvas duffel. She carefully readjusts her black Ramones messenger bag so that the strap rests more comfortably on her shoulder, simply taking in the situation. Dean somewhat sarcastically opens one of the back doors of the Impala for Eloise, and she gets in, carefully setting the Ramones bag that held her laptop, wallet, and meager cassette tape collection, down on the seat beside her, so as not to damage the upholstery. She notices Dean's collection of cassette tapes and eyes them, reading the names of the artists with approval as the Winchesters get into the front of the Impala.
Eloise: Deannie, you have impeccable taste in music.
Dean: I know. Glad you've noticed.
Eloise: Favourite artist?
Dean: Led Zeppelin, without a doubt. Zeppelin rules!
Eloise: Indeed. I really like Billy Joel, too, though. I have the album "The Stranger" on tape right here.
Dean revs up the engine of the Impala.
Dean: That's a good album. Here, give it to Sammy and he'll put it in.
Sam: Thanks for volunteering me, Dean.
Dean: No prob, bro.
Sam takes the Billy Joel tape from Eloise, slides it into the tape player and presses "play." Dean begins driving back down the cobbled driveway of the inn, Billy Joel's "Anthony's Song (Moving Out)" blaring from the speakers.
In the back seat, Eloise smiles serenely, her navy blue hair shining in the morning light, feeling strangely safe as they embarked onto a very dangerous journey.
[Fade]
{The End}?