Part One

The day had started off the same as any other. They awoke in hard beds, in a new location, in a run-down motel. The room seemed the same as every other, it was red with a musty smell wafting through the air vents. It was old, that was a fact, but it felt more like home than any other place did. They had been here for a week now which was longer than they usually stayed in one place and so far, it was going well. The water was warm when it needed to be, the tv, albeit small; worked perfectly, the sheets were changed regularly and well everything else was just fine. It was great.

The night before, the brothers had sprawled their clothes all over the place and threw their boots near the door, they were exhausted and really needed to rest. Dean wasn't sure when was the last time he had gotten a good night's sleep but that didn't really matter. He was more concerned with getting Sam to get to sleep. The boy was like a fricking owl, always typing away at his laptop, always attempting to get some work done. Dean was adamant that he slept, and Sam didn't have to be told twice, once his head had hit that pillow his lights were out.

Before they had gotten home that night they were out, first talking at a booth at the bar about the fact that things were just eerily quiet. There were no mutilations, no deaths… there was nothing. It was as if all the demons and ghouls had just disappeared off the face of the earth. Now, to anyone else this would have been perfect. Chasing these things around and risking their lives over and over, well it was exhausting, yet somehow the fact that there had been no problems didn't sit right with them. Till last week they were busting their asses off trying to get everything in order, exorcizing demons, killing jinn's and yet today there was nothing. That explained why they were constantly up every night, Dean complaining that things were getting not only weird but also extremely boring and Sam typing away attempting to find either a case or a reason for their not being one. it was for that reason that Dean, after moping around the motel room had decided they take it to the local bar. It was a small place on the corner of the road, the door creaked whenever it opened. The interior was nothing great, the wooden stools and booths were old and smelled slightly. It smelled of years of alcohol spilling over and being sunk into the dark wood. The lights were dim and alluded a yellow tone which created a warm feeling. There was a pool table with an odd stain in the left corner, near a dart board that seemed well worn for wear. It wasn't the greatest, but the boys were contempt as it had all the necessities… somewhere to sit and talk and something to drink. They choose to go to this bar as it was a Tuesday night, so it was safe to assume that there wouldn't be much life radiating throughout the bar and therefore meant that they would be certain to have a comfortable seat in a booth where they could work till closing time.

They had been there for hours, Dean drinking as much as he could afford and Sam getting annoyed that Dean was relatively of no help at all. It was just as usual. It was maybe after his 5th glass that Dean declared he was going to attempt to go hit on the woman at the bar, he claimed that there had been no fun and well he'd have to go find some. So off he walked to the bar, the drinks making him confident but as much as he didn't want to admit since it made him seem like an alcoholic, even after drinking a high amount, it wasn't enough to get him to wobble around. He had grown a tolerance to it.

He got the bar and looked at the babe working, she was in her mid-twenties, with medium blonde hair and glistening blue eyes. Her skin was fair and her lips rosy. He liked the look of her… a lot.

Dean: So, do you come here often?

The woman laughed at his lame attempt of an ice breaker.

The woman: Well, you would find me here most days… it is my job after all.

Dean laughed and scratched the back of his head, he looked back at Sam and grinned, Sam rolled his eyes and got back to his work.

Dean: Wait! You work in this place? Why is a model like you working here?

She rolled her eyes.

The Woman: What is wrong with this place?

She had an accent that Dean couldn't quit place, it wasn't American, maybe slightly British? But he liked it, nonetheless. He realised that he wasn't getting off to a great start and decided to just start again.

Dean: Nothing at all… Anyway, my name is Dean. What can I call you?

The woman: My name is Samantha, but you can call me Sam.

Dean cringed at the thought of her name, damn it.

Dean: Hell, no I won't call you Sam! See that big guy down there, he points to Sam that was typing away vigorously at his laptop, that's my little bro and that's also his name and well you know… I don't want to think of him when talking to something as beautiful as you.

They both chuckled and she leaned forward, looking Dean in the eyes.

There was something about this woman, she was beautiful, but she felt unearthly, it was intense. It was as though she wasn't human, he would say an angel but with his interactions, angel would not be good enough a description. She seemed majestic and it hadn't crossed Deans mind that she may actually not be human. The lack of cases and creatures had meant that although Dean was always alert, he felt today was a good enough day to just relax. He had a decent bar surrounding him, a good song playing, good alcohol and good-looking woman in front of him. As she leaned in, she brushed his hair a little and giggled.

Samantha: Meet me out here two hours after closing time… if you want, that is.

Dean: Oh, I'll be here…

She giggled and moved back, she winked at him and told him that she will see him later that night and that she better gets back to work before her boss fires her. He asked for another drink and made his way back to Sam.

He sat back at the booth and giggled to himself making Sam, concerningly look up from his screen.

Sam: What are you giggling about?

Dean: Guess who's going to get a little action later on tonight?

Sam rolled his eyes and made a disgusted look, that was more information than he wanted. It was then when he saw something that had caught his eye.

Sam: Dean, Dean look at this…

Dean: What Sam?

Sam looked up from his screen with a mischievous smile on his face

Sam: I think we have a case…

Sam then began to explain how a string of men and woman had gone missing recently and that there was no connection between any of the missing people. They discussed it for a bit, yet Dean was distracted. Constantly looking over at the bar and looking at Samantha in admiration, he was excited for their meeting later that night.

Sam: It says here that there are certain creatures that lure you in, entice you with a touch and then… you disappear. They don't have a name, or well I can't find it even if they did but maybe this thing, this creature, is the reason that these people have been going missing… Dean are you even listening to me?

Dean: What? Yeah, creature, missing yada yada very interesting but how do we find it?

Sam: It is interesting… this thing, it really messes up with you, all you do is want to be with them and when you are, it can do what it wants. Hmm, as for finding it, I have no idea actually! I guess we just have to scout the place and see someone who is incredibly obsessed with someone else, an obsession that would be considered, urm I don't know, unhealthy?

Dean: So basically, what? We're meant to just look at everyone… in this city… to find someone obsessed with someone? Especially right now, in a bar full of drunks who seem to be, well I don't know, pretty handsy with everyone? Seems easy.

Sam rolled his eyes. He didn't need for Dean to be so annoying, not now with this thing on the loose, but regardless, he was right. It would be insanely hard to find something, when they have no idea what it looks like or how it behaves. All they could do was wait it out, scope out the town a little better since, previously there were no cases, so they hadn't been looking around to intensely. But for the night they will stay in this decent enough bar and just relax, that creature wasn't going anywhere and well it could even be in this bar, but it seemed unlikely.

So that's what they did. They stayed in that bar, drank until closing time and just looked at the people coming and going.

It was 2 am and finally the bar was closing. Sam and Dean packed their things and began to leave the bar, Dean turns around to look at Samantha and gave her a wink. He was excited for the night; it had been a while since he had been with a woman so beautiful.

The bar was not far from their house, maybe a 15-minute walk which was perfect. They got inside and Sam and Dean threw their things all over the room. Dean set his alarm for 3:15 which meant he had more than enough time for a quick nap, a quick shower and hopefully a quick sober up before he ran back to the bar to meet Samantha. He first had to let Sam know that he had to sleep himself and that he didn't want to wake up and find him awake. Sam was ready to accept that idea, although he pretended that he didn't. The boys went to sleep, Sam dreaming of a nice sunny day and Dean well, as typical as it was dreamt of being surrounded with burgers and a tonne of women.

It seemed only like 10 minutes, but Deans alarm went off and with a moan he rolled out of bed. It took him a second to adjust to the darkness as he looked over to Sam to see his brother breathing softly as he lay asleep, drool pooling on his pillow. Dean was happy to see his brother sleep so peacefully but he had places to be and people to see. He felt better than he looked which wasn't too great, but he needed to shower and then leave. He couldn't be late for his… date.

It took Dean maybe 20 minutes to shower and feel refreshed, he looked good and he knew it. That left him with enough time to leave and get to the bar with a few minutes to spare.

He walked in the stillness of the night, it was dark and a little colder than he had believed but that didn't stop him. He could see the faint light radiating from within the bar onto the street, the warmth he was about to feel was worth every second of this cold. He really couldn't wait to see Samantha.

He felt weird; he had no idea what was drawing him towards Samantha so much, but he was pretty excited, nonetheless.

He walked in and there she was. She stood at the bar, wiping away at a glass with a rag strung on her shoulder. Her back was turned towards the bar but when Dean walked in, she turned her head and smiled at the man. Her hair glistened, as did her eyes, her rosy lips glistening too, everything about this woman just shone. She was perfect.

Samantha: Come on in silly, and close the door it seems cold… actually lock it behind you

She giggled after saying this, leaving Dean's imagination to run wild. He was not one to argue with being alone in a bar with a beautiful woman, so he was happy to oblige. He locked the door and shivered a little. He felt good to be inside, in the warmth.

Dean: so… what have you been doing since, well since closing?

Samantha: Oh well you know, just cleaning up the place. This place doesn't clean itself you know!

Dean: haha, I'm sure. He rubbed his hands together, signifying that he was still a little cold and maybe a little nervous around her too.

Samantha: what are you doing over there silly? Come on closer, come sit at the bar

Dean smirked to himself

Dean: Hell, yeah I will get closer, you aint got to ask me twice that's for sure!

He walked up to the bar but instead of sitting at the bar he walked behind it to where Samantha was and got close to her. He could practically feel the body heat radiate off of her. Her back was turned to him as he was behind her, he pushed the hair to the front and kissed her shoulder a little

Dean: I hope I'm not being too fast…

Samantha chuckled, cute and perfect, as everything else.

Samantha: Not at all Dean...

Dean was beaming with happiness at this point, he couldn't wait to get closer to Samantha. He was too excited to even realise that something just didn't feel right. Nothing did, but not to Dean, to Dean this felt really right. In fact, it felt perfect.

Every time Dean touched her, he just wanted to get closer and closer. Her back still turned she sighed and turned around but while doing so she, what seemed randomly, punched Dean in the gut. He was blind-sided as he doubled over in pain. He was so infatuated with the woman in front of him that his brain couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. It was as though he just wanted to touch her and get closer although she was literally beating him up. While he grabbed his gut, Samantha took the opportunity to bring down a nearby bottle onto Deans head. It shattered, causing his knees to buckle and sending him down to his knees.

Dean: wha… what… what are you doing?

Samantha: Don't worry silly, you won't feel a thing!

While he was still on his knees, she decided to swing her foot towards his gut, but he moved slightly out of the way, causing her foot to collide with his rib. It hit him at a weird angle which sent a shiver through his body. He wasn't sure but he believed she may have broken a rib or two. The pain radiating from his body was enough to clear his mind for a few seconds. It was then he remembered what Sam had said. There was a creature in this town, it preyed on people by touch and they became obsessed… Dean was never the type to run after woman and his increasing obsession with Samantha should have been a clear enough sign. He couldn't spot the obsessed crazy person at the bar because it was him, he was the crazy person. It must have started when she had brushed his hair a little earlier. That was when he started acting more and more obsessed.

He realized in those few seconds that this woman, albeit as beautiful as she was, was not actually a woman nor a human at all. He had to start fighting back and he had to do it now.

He grabbed the corner of the bar to give him a little stabilisation as he attempted to get back on his feet, but this attempt was futile as once again Samantha was looming over him pulling her leg in for another kick at Dean.

This time when she swung it was harder than before and Dean knew that he had definitely broken something. He realised that attempting to stand would be useless at this point and decided to tackle Samantha's legs. This threw her off as she dropped to the floor. Although Dean was in unbearable pain at this point, he knew he had to fight. Having her drop to the floor made this easier for him as it meant he didn't really need to stand; however, it didn't really make it any easier in any other way.

She was good. She knew all the places to hit Dean that would make him feel weak. However, one thing he did realise, except for the sudden bottle to the head, she wouldn't hit his face. He couldn't quite understand why but he couldn't really stop and ask either. They wrestled on the floor for a while, until she writhed for a little and Dean couldn't prevent it and saw that there was something in her hand. It was a piece of glass, roughly 6 inches long. She swung her hands and Dean's reflexes kicked in, making her cut his arms. He screamed in pain and punched back but missed. She then took another opportunity to swing for his rib. She missed which made Dean sigh in relief, but then she tried again, and it was then that she struck gold. She hit him right where she had broken his ribs earlier. The glass dug in deep and it increased his adrenaline by tenfold. They struggled on the floor for a few more minutes, every so often she would get a hit to his rib which would leave him in an intense amount of pain, but Dean didn't give up. He managed to climb on top of her and pin her down to where she was immobile. It felt as though they had been fighting for forever, and the consistent hits to the rib made him feel faint but he'll be damned if he would pass out right here, right now. He had to finish this. After a few seconds, ensuring she was properly pinned underneath him where she could no longer do any harm, he took a shaky breath.

Dean: What are you?

Samantha: You don't know what I am?

Dean: What. Are. You?

Samantha: I am an Encantado…

Dean: You have got to be kidding me? I didn't believe you guys existed…You guys are meant to be pretty harmless, just into partying and what not so why are people disappearing?

Samantha: Yeah… that's what all the books say. We like to get our adrenaline pumping. The stories, they make us out to be some hippy, music loving freaks, just dancing and having sex, no meaning. Me… I like to fight. That really gets things started. Really gets my adrenaline going.

Dean: You couldn't just stick to the partying and sex… damn it, the good-looking ones are always crazy.

Samantha: I am not crazy. I just want to have fun haha!

Dean: So… in other words you're just crazy? Listen, I have one question, why not the face? You never hit my face?

Samantha: I didn't want to ruin something so pretty…

Dean: Damn, thanks I guess, you crazy bitch.

He only had a few moments, but he tried his hardest to flick through all the books he had ever read in his life and see what he could do to kill her. Damn it, it was such a shame that such a pretty woman would have to be killed. He wasn't sure what was guaranteed to work so he settled for the most traditional method he could think of. In the most metal way, which made him feel a little bad ass, he grabbed the piece of glass that still stuck in his side, and although every fibre of his being told him to leave the glass in his side, he couldn't resist. He grabbed onto it, took a deep breath and dragged it out. He yelled in pain and Samantha giggled.

Dean: What are you laughing at bitch?

Samantha: Dean… you shouldn't have done that.

Dean: It was worth it… bitch

Her eyes open wide as she finally pieced together what he was planning to do. He brought the blade to her chest, regardless of her protests and plunged it in deep. He kept it there for a second or two before pulling it out. She lay there as the life was drained out of her. He checked her pulse and to his relief she was dead.

He sighed a breath of relief and dropped beside her. Now that there was no fighting, touching or anything exhilarating happening, he realised just how much pain he actually was in. He touched his ribs, undoubtedly, they were broken but it was now the warm sticky liquid that was freely pooling beside him which was worrying. He looked at his watch and saw that the time was 4:27, he really had to get going and get back to the motel. First, he had to decide where he would get cleaned up. He didn't want to worry Sam so he thought it would be best to see what he could do in the Bar toilet.

He attempted to get up, but his sides screamed in pain, he had literally no strength left in him, so he decided to lay there but only for a minute.

After what seemed like a minute in his mind he began to shiver, and Dean knew that he had been there for a while and that if he didn't do something now then he may never get the chance to.

His sides were in pain, but he mustered everything he had in him and finally after what felt like forever, he got up. He wobbled on his feet and his head spun, his sight was blurry as his consciousness wavered. He slapped himself on the face which was an attempt at making him more aware and it kind of worked. He made his way to the toilet and stopped when he caught a waft of the smell that was being emitted from the toilet. He just hoped to god that if he did die, it would not be in a place that smelt that bad.

He took a deep breath and made his way inside and then decided to look around for a first aid kit. He would need to sterilise the wound and then stitch it together, once that was done, he would be… as good as decent. He found the kit under the sink, thankfully with a few essentials left. A few bandages, string, needle and something to kill the pain. He decided to a pop a few pain meds first and then took a deep breath.

Luckily for him, he was in a bar and any piece of alcohol would be of use. So, he used some which was left in the toilet as extras and poured it over his wound, he screamed in agony and if he hadn't been Dean, he probably would have been in tears by now. He then grabbed the string and began to stitch his side. It took him way longer than he needed to because he kept losing consciousness every so often, but he finally managed. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 4:59, damn it, he needed to leave soon. Dean sighed, he was getting exhausted and he thought to himself, if only he didn't have that 'date' he would be asleep right now in a pretty comfortable bed having a pretty good dream but no he was stuck in a crappy bar, in the extremely smelly toilet thinking of a way he was going to hide this from Sam. He would of course tell Sam that the Encantado was dead but that would be it, he would probably add in a few details of a fight that occurred, but he wouldn't tell him about Samantha, or his injury. Life was finally beginning to feel pretty good again, kind of normal and he did not want to ruin that. But hiding his injury would be pretty hard when his shirt was practically drenched in blood. He had to look around the bar, once again for something to wear. This was really beginning to tire him out. He looked for a while till he finally found, in a far corner, pushed to the back a lost and found box. He looked around and found nothing that matched his style, but he found a hoodie which was a little too big for him, but he wasn't going to picky now. He took his shirt off and threw it in the trash then threw on the new jumper and to his surprise it was really comfortable. It was a navy coloured crewneck, that had the word Stanford written across its chest, he scoffed at the irony.

Finally cleaned and feeling a little better, he got going. He had to get back to the motel, he really needed to sleep. What was once a 15-minute walk took him maybe 30 minutes he thought as he had to constantly stop and take a breather. He finally reached his motel room and smiled; it was the small victories he thought to himself. Now the next step was staying alive. He threw his jeans on to the floor and left his boots by the door. He remembered to keep the hoodie on. Sam began to toss and turn at the sound of his brother entering the room…

Sam: What time is it?

Dean: Shh go back to sleep Sammy, its only 5:48

Dean was shocked, how did it take him so long to get back home? The fight had ended at around 4:30 and it took him an hour and some to patch himself up and get back home.

Sam laughed lightly in his drowsy state.

Sam: Dude, what the hell are you wearing?

Dean: Oh, this thing? An ex-boyfriend of her had it laying around while my shirt got a little… well, dirty?

Sam: Oh, dude gross, but Stanford really?

Dean: He was smart, go back to sleep Sammy

Sam: …and bigger than you I guess, anyway I'm going back to sleep night

Dean: goodnight Sam

Dean chuckled to himself and slowly walked to his bed, he hated having to lie to Sam, but this was in his best interest, he didn't want to worry his little brother at all.

He finally let his head rest against the pillow, he was knackered, and his body hurt all over, he couldn't wait to sleep just for the simple fact that he would be able to escape this nightmare of a night.