Deadwood.

Dean didn't waste time in judging the small town, the minute they stepped out of the Impala Dean's eyes caught on the small stores and eery buildings.

"Couldn't have picked a more exciting place Sammy?"

Sam's eyes were travelling around the town as well. It seemed so unoccupied, like the town of Deadwood was actually dead.

Perfect place for something supernatural to happen.

Dean hummed an ACDC song while he stepped towards a building, the sign on the door said 'open' but inside you could barely tell. The lights were dimmed and the furniture seemed to be rotting. The pale color of brown stained everything. Dean pushed lightly on the door scared that it might disintegrate at his touch.

Behind the counter slumped over the desk was an old woman, her hair grey and shining under the dimmed lights. Dean quickly felt the gun in his pocket.

"Hello?" He said, his voice echoed through the eery hotel, seeming to bounce of every antique. The old woman's face shot up as if she was being pulled up by strings, her grin was already plastered on her face.

Dean and Sam grimaced.

"Hello boys," She said in an age-filled voice that seemed to be crusty and moulded, like everything else here. "How can I help you? Need directions?"

Dean snapped out of his stare and took his hand off his gun.

"We'd like a room" Sam said for him, Dead straightened up and tried to picture himself that age. he shriveled back and recoiled at the thought.

Sam looked forward passed the woman, though her gaze stuck to him. "Are you sure?" She blinked almost surprised.

"Why would we be joking?" Dean muttered finally finding enough energy to speak.

The woman smiled wider, if that was even possible and extended her hand towards an old computer.

"It's been so long since we've had costumers."

"We can tell." Dean whispered, Sam slapped the back of his head.

"Room 39." The woman hobbled over to a board behind her. Hooks on the board held keys, each with a number etched inside it. She pulled a bright yellow one off the rack and threw it at the boys. Dean caught it.

"Thank you." He said walking up towards the stairs, the woman's face drew out of the smile and her grey hair covered her face again as she slumped herself over the counter again and closed her eyes. Dean hit Sam's arm.

"How old is she? 100?"

Sam groaned and continued to the top of the staircase. There was a smell of sulfur in the air and a terrible feeling of emptiness.

Dean gnawed at his lower lip, "Sulfur." He said searching the staircase with his eyes. Sam groaned, "There's a gun shop next door."

Dean groaned again looking at his feet as he walked towards the room. Sam found 39 within seconds and slid the key into the lock. He felt a rush of excitement as he pushed the door open.

He expected a scream or at least a dead body to lighten up their day, but what he found was even more terrifying.

Dean gave up and threw the bag he had around his shoulder onto the bed, "Can we please skip this town? I mean, Creepy hundred year old women I can deal, but rats? No."

The rats scuttled along the floor. Dean stepped on one and kicked it under his bed.

Sam walked into the room and avoided any rats, "Can they climb to the beds?" Dean yelled clearly annoyed.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat on the bed pulling out his wireless internet connection and opening his computer. "What will you do? There's nothing here."

Sam rolled his eyes and typed, 'DeadWood' into google.

News reports came up.

Sam clicked the first one.

In italics it read.

'Holly Grey, the fifth death in five days.

The small town of Deadwood has been hit by a serial killer killing each victim on the same

Time each night, at the same place.

investagators are searching the areas trying to find clues to who might've done such a terrible thing.

So far we have no leads.'

Sam's face lit up. "We might have something."