Amy Stack Page 27

"COME INTO MY PARLOR"

By Amy Stack

PREFACE

Cheyenne, Wyoming 12 hours earlier 7:15pm

Martin Krueller walked into his apartment. He took his jacket off and plopped it onto the back of the chair in the dining room. He started to rub the back of his neck. It's been sore for the last couple of days. He wasn't sure if something bit him or not. He then shrugged it off and got himself a beer from the fridge, and retreated into the living room and immediately turned the TV on. Martin mindlessly flipped channels on the remote until he got frustrated and turned it off. He threw the remote into his huge rocking recliner and went into his bedroom. His bed was unmade, and there were clothes strewn all about the floor. He didn't give a crap; he figured he was a bachelor so who cares what his room looked like? He took a look at himself in the mirror. Not bad, he thought to himself. His face was a little scruffy, his mousy brown hair receding, but all in all he didn't think he looked too bad at the age of 45. He even had a slight beer gut. Still, since the woman he's been seeing didn't seem to mind, then why should he? About a month ago, a beautiful woman with brick red hair came to work for his corporation. He was the head of a big publishing firm called Krueller Publishing, Inc. He had owned his own business for over ten years, and he lived pretty comfortably. He could've owned his own home. Martin was very frugal with his money. He figured he didn't need much and what the hell for? He had no one to impress, nor did he care to. If by some miracle, he ever managed to settle down with someone, then he would consider buying a home. But until then, the middle aged bachelor was content with the way things were. All that changed when he met charisse. She was gorgeous, with generous lips and a bust to match. She had gams on her that were a knock-out. Her green eyes went well with her thick, long luxurious hair and her silky complexion. Charisse was 36 years old, almost ten years his junior. She came on as a proofreader; situated at a desk right across from his office. She adapted to the environment almost immediately. She seemed to make friends easily. Everyone that worked in that department seemed to take an immediate liking to her. Martin, from the moment charisse walked through the door, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her. She wore glasses and he thought it was sexy the way her glasses would fall down to the end of her nose. He observed her much of the day watching her work at her desk. He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. At one moment, charisse looked up and was staring right back at him. Martin at first felt embarrassed by his staring at her, but charisse didn't seem to notice. She gave him a sultry smile, and immediately resumed her work. At the end of the day, martin was getting ready to go home, when charisse startled him by standing in his doorway to his office. "Oh, goodness you scared the life out of me," Martin said. Charisse flashed that gorgeous smile of hers. "I'm sorry; I wasn't trying to startle you." He smiled back at her, and flashed her sheepish grin. There was an awkward pause. "Well, I just wanted to say goodnight." She started to turn and walk away. Martin felt stupid that he was too shy to utter a sound. He suddenly ran toward her. Charisse had to stop short to avoid body checking him. "I-I-I'm sorry, if I appeared rude. I meant to say good night." Martin mustered up his courage. "A-a-actually, I was wondering if you want to get a c-coffee or something, um tonight." He was afraid with all his stuttering and nervousness; she would think him to be an incorrigible nerd. After all, what would such a beauty see in a nerdy dude with a receding hairline? Much to his surprise, charisse said "Sure, I'd love to have a cup of coffee." "Just promise me one thing." "What's that", Martin asked. "You're not going to stutter and get all tongue tied while we drink coffee. You don't have to be nervous. I don't bite." Martin managed to chuckle a bit, and escorted his date out the door. A few weeks later, they were still dating, and martin was in seventh heaven. He's never been so happy in his life. Perhaps this is the woman of his dreams, he thought to himself.

He was sitting on his bed, admiring a picture of him and charisse that they took in a photo booth, when he heard a strange creaking noise. It appeared to be coming from his closet. He cautiously walked over to the closet to see, when all of a sudden something or someone jumped out. His face seemed to be a mixture of fear and surprise. "Well, what are you doing here?" "This is quite an interesting entrance." Martin's face turned pale. He was thrown onto the bed from some kind of invisible force. Martin screamed in horror as he got covered in some sticky icky goo. That was the last thing he would ever see again.

Cheyenne, Wyoming the next day 7:15am

Sam and Dean Winchester looked up krueller's address, and with phony FBI badges headed over to investigate into the man's death. Krueller lived on the third floor of Pleasure hills apartment building. The landlord john Walters, told the Winchesters that Mr. krueller was a big wig for a publishing company, and that he was a bachelor that was in and out all kinds of different hours of the night and day. Walters assumed that Krueller was a workaholic and a loner since he never really socialized with anyone in the building. Dean asked if Krueller was ever known to have women visit him. Walters responded by saying that "some broad" occasionally visited him, but remarked that she must've been his sister because he was too much of a dork to attract any woman. Dean asked if Walters ever got a good look at the woman, and he said that her head was always covered with a scarf or a head wrap of some kind. Sam and Dean thanked him and proceeded to the apartment. The police tape was across the door. Sam and Dean climbed through it and studied the crime scene. A few officers were wrapping up with taking pictures and dusting for fingerprints. Dean flashed his badge and asked one of the officers what time the body was found, and who called it in. The officer replied that the body had been found at 5am that morning, and that one of the neighbors called 911 when she went into Krueller's apartment after finding the door open. Martin krueller was lying on his back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Sam went over to the body for a closer look. Martin's skin was wrinkled and his face was sunken in, almost like a deflated balloon. There was some strange clear sticky film sticking to the body. The one other thing that Sam happened to notice was a huge welt in his neck. Sam backed off and stood back over by where Dean was standing. "So, what's the deal," Dean asked. Sam grimaced. "I'm not really sure to be honest with you. I never remember seeing anything quite like it before. The man's whole body is all dried up, as if something sucked him dry. Also, he has a huge welt on the right side of his neck." "A huge welt," Dean said. "Like something bit him?" Sam nodded. "Pretty much." Dean shrugged. "So, what do you think we're dealing with here, vampires?" Sam had a bewildered look on his face. "All the other vampires we've hunted never sucked a person dry before." "What the hell would cause that?" Dean raised his eyebrows, and said "Well, Master of Google, let's check into a hotel and see what we can find out." The boys checked into the Cheshire Cat Inn a few miles into town. Sam immediately took out his laptop and went straight to work.

Several hours later, Sam didn't make much headway. "You get anything, or what?" Dean was getting bored. And hungry. Sam was peering at the laptop intently. That seems to be his norm whenever he was concentrating. "I researched welts, and the causes." "And?" Dean was getting impatient. His stomach was screaming for a big, juicy cheeseburger. Extra onions. Sam brought dean back to the present. "I got a bunch of different websites about welts, and for the most part it appears that they are usually formed by allergies." "Allergic to what, exactly," Dean asked. "Well, this one article says that it's usually an allergic reaction to pet dander, dust mites, etc." "That's it, dust mites and pet hair? That doesn't exactly cry out 'Bodies pruned out by pet dander,' Sam", Dean said. "What else you got?" Sam studied the screen further. "The other articles talk about hives stemming from bedbugs, and someone complaining about welts, on her-buttocks." Dean sighed. "Ok, this is getting us nowhere. That landlord Walters at krueller's apartment building said that Krueller was seen several times with some chick. He also mentioned that the guy owned a publishing company. I say we check that place out, and see if his co-workers can tell us anything." Sam just took a deep breath, and said "Let's go."

Dean's '67 Impala pulled up in the parking lot of Krueller Publishing, Inc. The building was about 5 stories tall, with many other companies sharing the property. The publishing company was in a suite on the 2nd floor. Sam and Dean let themselves in. There were workers milling about, some sitting in their cubicles, papers rustling and phones ringing. A gentleman wearing a blue suit and very bright yellow tie approached the Winchesters. "How can I help you gentleman," the yellow tied man inquired. Dean and Sam flashed their FBI badges. "Yes, I'm agent Paige, and this is agent Plant, and we're looking into the death of your boss." Yellow Tied man took a deep sigh. "Yeah, it was really horrible what happened to him. He was a good guy. He never bothered anybody." Dean spied a name tag on the man's lapel. "Do you happen to know, uh, Jed, if Mr. Krueller had any enemies?" Jed shook his head. "No way, Marty was the nicest boss I've ever had. We're not sure if we can keep our heads above water without him. After all, Marty owned this place." Sam acknowledged Jed's sorrow for his boss. "I'm sorry, Jed for your loss. I was wondering if we would be able to look in his office a bit?" Jed shrugged. "Sure, I guess it's okay. Marty never kept anything personal in there." Dean in the meantime had been studying the empty desk across from him. "Excuse me a minute, Jed. Can you tell me who occupies that desk?" Jed looked in the direction that Dean pointed. "Oh, that's Charisse's desk. She just came to us a couple of months ago. She was really great. And sweet. We were sorry to see her leave." Dean raised his eyebrows. "Leave? To where?" Jed shrugged. "I dunno. All I do know is that she seemed to be so heartbroken over Marty's death, she said she couldn't continue on here." Sam interjected by asking, "Would you happen to know Charisse's last name?" "Uh, yeah her last name is Webster. Why? Is she in trouble or something?" Dean shook his head. "No, nothing like that. WE just want to hold everyone accountable that knew Marty. Thanks for your time. We'll be in touch." Jed smiled and nodded. "Anytime, Guys. Anytime I could be of help just let me know." Dean smiled back at Jed. "Oh, trust me you'll be the first one to know."

Sam and Dean checked out Martin's office. For the most part, everything was typical of a busy office. Papers were strewn all over his desk, a PC in the right hand corner. A bunch of sticky notes with phone numbers were all hanging off the sides of the computer. Sam and Dean guessed that the phone numbers were some of the clients that Krueller dealt with. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed a picture sticking out from underneath the computer. "Hey, Dean check this out." Dean walked over to Sam and glanced at the picture. "Whoa, that is one smoking chick." Dean took a closer look at the picture. "I'm assuming that this doofus is Marty. But how the hell did he score a hottie like this?" Sam shrugged. "I don't know, maybe she saw something in him that attracted her." There was a slight pause. The boys looked at each other, and then simultaneously said, "Nah." "How much do you wanna bet that the girl in this pic is Charisse," Dean asked. "Well, why don't we locate this Charisse and find out why she bailed so quickly from the job," Sam said. Dean's eyebrows were raised. "I got dibs on the hot chick," Dean said. Sam smiled, and playfully slapped Dean on the arm. "Yeah, don't count on it pal." Dean slapped him back, and said, "Yeah well we'll see who she thinks is the more debonair one." They both chuckled and went out the door.

They found Charisse's apartment on the other side of town. Dean knocked on the door and he heard a voice from inside saying "Be right there!" Charisse opened the door. She seemed a little out of breath; as if she ran to the door. Dean was dumbfounded. She was absolutely gorgeous! The red hair, the green eyes, the voluptuous lips, the… Sam kept clearing his throat and looked at Dean as if to say stop staring at her like that. Charisse was wearing a bathrobe, and her hair was wet. 'She must've just come out of the shower' Dean thought to himself. 'MMM, if only I could've been here to see it.' Sam stomped on Dean's foot to snap him out of it. He did snap out of it, but displeased and in pain. They flashed their badges at Charisse and asked if she wouldn't mind if they asked her a couple of questions. She said no problem and gestured for them to enter the apartment. "Would anyone like a beer or something," Charisse asked. Dean said, "I would like a beer if you don't mind." Charisse smiled at him. "No problem," she said. "And for you," she directed her question to Sam. "Oh, uh, nothing for me thanks." Sam was getting irritated due to Dean not taking his googly eyes off of her. Charisse returned from the kitchen and handed Dean his beer. She smiled again, and added a wink. Dean smiled back, and was practically drooling on himself. 'Ok, Dean you're on business, get a grip' Dean thought to himself. Sam asked Charisse how she came to get a job at the publishing company. "Oh, I just responded to an ad in the paper. Marty interviewed me and offered me the job immediately. It was incredible. I don't think I've ever been offered a job that quickly before." Dean grinned. "I guess he felt you were highly qualified," he said as he was eyeing her cleavage. Sam grumbled, and proceeded. "Charisse, we found a picture of you and Marty in his office. Were you two seeing each other?" Charisse put her head down. "Yes, he was such a sweet man. I have no idea why anyone would want to hurt him." Her eyes started to water, and Dean scrambled around trying to find tissues. Sam found the tissues and grabbed them before Dean had a chance. Dean shot Sam a hateful look. "Were the two of you dating long?" Charisse paused to blow her nose. "I only worked for his company a couple of months. We dated until the night he died." She began sobbing again, and this time Dean lunged forward and grabbed a big wad of tissues, and handed them to Charisse. Sam just rolled his eyes. "When was the last time you saw him?" Charisse thought for a moment. "I think it was the night before last. We just went to the local bar up the street for a couple of drinks, and then he took me home. That was the last time I saw him." Charisse looked like she was going to bawl again. "Oh, that poor, poor man." Sam got up and handed Charisse the rest of the box of tissues. "We're real sorry for your loss. Just one more question: what's the name of the bar that you and Marty hung out at?" Charisse sniffled, and then replied, "Atomic Tom's" she said. "Well, thanks for your help, Charisse. We'll let you know if we need any more information," Sam said and started for the door. Dean jumped up when he realized he was in La-La land again. "Thanks, Charisse, we'll be in touch." Charisse walked the boys to the door. "Thanks, guys. You're really sweet." Sam walked out, and as Dean was starting to leave, Charisse leaned into Dean and he felt her putting something in his front pants pocket. When they approached the car, Dean pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it. He was suddenly grinning from ear to ear. "What?" Sam asked. "Oh, man this chick actually has the hots for me. She gave me her phone number." Sam had to deal with Dean grinning and humming AC/DC all the way back to the hotel.

Later on that evening, Charisse was leaving "Atomic Tom's" with a young, nice looking guy. He had on a gray turtle neck sweater and jeans. He appeared to be in his 20's, longish blond hair, and handsome green eyes. They walked over to his 2003 Ford F150 and he helped Charisse hop up into the passenger seat. "Nice wheels," she said as they drove away from the bar. Her demeanor had changed drastically since the Winchesters met with her that afternoon. She had her hair back in a banana clip and she was wearing a red corset blouse with a pleated skirt and black thigh high boots. Her lips were painted with a bright crimson color. Adam Crowley smiled at her and marveled at how sexy she was. They arrived at his apartment, and they skipped the niceties and went straight to the bedroom. They were kissing passionately, tongues intertwining ravenously. She lied down on top of him, turning him on by kissing his neck. Suddenly, she lifted up her head and opened her mouth very wide. Gobs of clear sticky film was shooting out of her mouth and covering Adam's body with it. His eyes widened with terror. He was unable to move. "What the hell are you?!" Charisse had an evil smile spread across her lips. "Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly. The spider's hungry." Adam screamed as Charisse lowered herself toward his face, showing scary and sharp fangs descending from her mouth. Adam's scream subsided as Charisse completed feeding. She was satiated. 'This was better than that scrawny old fart' she laughed to herself. Time to head back to her apartment for a good night's sleep.

The boys arrived at the morgue where the medics brought in Adam Crowley's body. Again, Dean and Sam flashed their badges and asked to examine the bodies. The Medical examiner, Jeanette Claiborne, had the body laid out on the table. She was just about to perform the autopsy. Sam and Dean asked her what she thought was the cause of death. "Hell if I know," Jeanette said. "I've never seen anything like this. It's way out of my league," Jeanette said. "Do you mind if we're left alone to examine the body for a few minutes," Dean asked. Jeanette looked at her watch. "Knock yourselves out. I could use a break." Dean and Sam looked around the body for any distinctive marks. The body was in much the same condition as when they found Martin Krueller's corpse. Dean noticed that there was a huge welt on the right side of Crowley's neck; same as the welt Sam described was on Krueller's neck. Also, Dean noticed a little residue of the sticky clear film on Adam's body. "Hey, Sam, did you notice this? It looks like clear snot." Sam leaned into the body for a closer look. "Yeah, I remember I saw that same stuff on Martin's body." Dean cringed. "What the hell is that?" Sam sighed, and took a deep breath. "You're gonna think I'm crazy," Sam said. Dean grinned. "How's that different from any other day?" Sam ignored the remark, "the texture is very similar to that of spider webs." Dean gave Sam a bewildered look. "So, what are you saying? Peter Parker's alter ego turned dark side and is running amok sucking out bodily fluids?" "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a black widow." "Black Widow, as in 'she mates and she kills' black widow?" Sam nodded. "Yeah, exactly. IN this case a very huge black widow that feeds on humans." Dean became very thoughtful. "What are you thinking about," Sam asked. Dean replied, "You remember that movie with Debra Winger and Theresa Russell was playing the black widow? Theresa Russell was marrying rich old farts and then ganked them to inherit their money. Debra Winger was chasing her all over the world trying to stop her." Sam had a puzzled look on his face. "And what does that movie have to do with what's going on?" Dean shrugged. "Nothing. I just thought that Debra Winger and Theresa Russell kicking each other's ass was a hot scene." Sam shook his head, and walked out of the room. Dean followed him, grinning the entire time.

Back at the hotel, Sam was sitting at the table with the laptop. "I got it," Sam exclaimed. Dean leaned over Sam's shoulder. "What did you get", Dean inquired. Sam proceeded to read an article. "It says here that the black widow spider injects venom into her victims to paralyze them and make them sick and too weak to fight her off. Then, she sucks the blood of the fly or whatever she's caught in her web." "What does it say about black widows biting humans?" Sam resumed reading the article. "It says that a black widow spider's venom will not kill a human, but that person will not feel good for a couple of days. Of course, people have to use caution just in case they are allergic to spider bites. Also, the common assumption that the female spider kills her mates is a myth. It says here that is uncommon for black widows to take that action. The male doesn't have any venom, just the female." Dean took a deep breath. "So, basically we're dealing with a human size black widow that sucks the life out of humans? How the hell do you kill something like that?" Sam just looked up at dean and said, "A giant can of raid?" "That's cute, very original Sammy." "Thanks, I thought it was clever." "Well, now if you'll excuse me, this chick magnet needs to get ready for his date tonight." Dean retreated to the bathroom to get ready, while Sam continued to fish around on the internet. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

It was around 9pm when Dean met with Charisse at Atomic Tom's. Charisse was waiting for him over by the bar. She was stunning. Her hair was soft and wavy over her shoulders. She was wearing a red lace blouse with spaghetti straps and black leather pants. Dean was trying to keep himself calm. He greeted her and asked her what she was drinking. She said that it was a Black Russian and Dean summoned the bartender and ordered a draft beer for himself and another drink for Charisse. They chatted for quite a while. They talked about where she was born, her family origins and so forth. There was a frequent round of drinks. Dean and Charisse seemed to have lost track of how much they drank. They also seemed to have lost track of time. They talked about everything and anything. They laughed a lot. Dean really liked this girl. He doesn't believe that he has ever met a girl quite like her before. He would have to be careful; the line of work he was in he can't afford to make a commitment. Still, it doesn't hurt to have a little nooky now and then. Dean deduced that they both drank way too much to drive, so since Charisse didn't live too far away from the bar, they elected to walk back to her apartment. Charisse invited him inside. "Now, this time none of that shy guy routine." They stood in her living room and started to kiss. They kept kissing as they made their way into her bedroom. 'She's very aggressive' Dean thought to himself. 'Sweet'. The love making was very passionate and intense. At some point, things got so intense for Charisse that she had scratched Dean on his back. Dean was very into the activity they were engaged in, and seemed not to notice. Then, at some point the couple flipped over and Charisse was on top. Charisse picked her head up and arched her back. She opened her mouth wide. She leaned over and started to nuzzle Dean's nipples. Dean closed his eyes, and moaned softly. Charisse's mouth worked its way up to Dean's neck and started nuzzling his ear. Dean didn't remember the last time he found sex this exhilarating. 'Sammy's been the one winning the girls over with his puppy dog eyes, I'm glad it was finally my turn' he thought. At 2am, Dean decided it was time to call it a night. He kissed Charisse gently on her lips, and thanked her for one of the best nights he's had in a long time. Charisse smiled. Dean walked back to the bar to retrieve his car. He figured he was sober enough to drive now. He snuck quietly back into the hotel room, where Sam was fast asleep. Dean undressed and lied down on his bed and just stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking about that magical night with this magical woman. He would be counting the minutes until he was able to see her again. He got up for a moment to go to the bathroom. Dean suddenly became aware of the scratches on his back and grinned about the reminder that he'll have for a few days about his evening with Charisse. He checked himself in the mirror and went back to bed. Dean failed to notice when he looked in the mirror that he had a huge red welt on the side of his neck. He fell fast asleep happy and satisfied.

Dean was abruptly awoken by the alarm clock by his bed. He frowned and looked at the clock: 8:38am. He groaned and tried to go back to sleep, but he had a killer of a hangover. Dean didn't care because he was floating on cloud nine from last night. He didn't care about much of anything at that moment. All he could think about was Charisse. Dean's thought was interrupted by the opening of the room door. Sam was coming back in from getting a newspaper, and an egg, sausage, ham and cheese bagel for dean and a coffee for himself. Dean slowly sat himself up. "So, what did you do last night? Surf for porn and entertain yourself?" Sam shot him a dirty look. "No, I stayed on the computer for awhile and then went to sleep. I just came back from getting breakfast. I also gave Bobby a call. I take it your night with Charisse went well." "Oh, yeah," Dean replied with an ecstatic look on his face. He suddenly changed gears. "Why'd you call Bobby? What did he have to say?" "I told him what we were possibly dealing with, and all the things that happened up until now. He said that he never heard of a lore involving black widow spider people, but he said he'll poke around to see what he can find out and let us know if he finds anything." "Well, I hope we figure out who it is and how to kill it before it kills anyone else," Dean said. "In the meantime, I'm gonna hop in the shower." Dean went into the bathroom and proceeded to remove his shirt. He suddenly felt ill; lightheaded and feverish. He brushed it off as possibly being part of his hangover. Dean found that his right shoulder was a little stiff and went to rub it. Something about his shoulder didn't feel right. He turned back to the mirror to see what it was. Oh my God, it was a huge welt! Just like the previous victims! Charisse was the Black Widow! 'No, no it's just a horrible mistake.' 'It can't be her.' He tried desperately to explain the welt being there. 'It's just a coincidence,' he thought. 'It's just a nasty hickey from being overzealous'. A grave feeling started to wash over him. He turned his body so that he can see the part of his back where Charisse had scratched him. They too, were turning into big red welts! Dean tried not to let himself panic. "Uh, Sam," he said calmly. "I think you'd better have a look at this." Sam came into the bathroom to see what Dean was referring to. His face froze in horror. He stood silent for a bit. Dean shut his eyes. "Tell me it isn't what I think it is." Sam looked again. He wanted to tell Dean something different, but he couldn't. "It is what you think it is," Sam said grimly. "Great, Sam you couldn't say that it was just an intense allergic reaction or something? Gee, Sam you have no imagination." "Sorry," Sam mumbled. "So what now? Did Bobby ever get back to you with any information?" "No, not yet." Dean looked at his back in the mirror. "Great, some skanky super spider bitch just prepared me to be her next meal!" "Next thing you know, I'll be buzzing around the room, bumping into windows and glass doors, and keep gravitating toward dog poop." "I'm surprised she didn't try to kill you last night," Sam said very matter of fact. "Oh, that's comforting, Sam. Why don't you dig a hole, bash me over the head, and throw me in, for criss sakes?" "Sorry, that's not what I meant. I meant that all her victims seemed to get 'eaten' the same night she mates with them." "I wonder what she's waiting for?" "Oh, I don't know, maybe she's saving me for dessert," Dean exclaimed. "Can we maybe change the subject for the time being?" "Ok, I'll try to get more heads together. I'll research for more information. In the meantime, um…." Sam cut himself off. "In the meantime, what? Stick around here waiting to be spider chow?" "No, I was thinking that maybe you can try to keep Charisse busy until we can figure this out. You know, just sit and talk with her and try to act like nothing's wrong." Dean rubbed his shoulder again. "Alright, I'll ask her to meet me at the bar, and just hang out with her. Maybe we'll talk about recipes for fly dip." Dean waved his finger in Sam's face. "You better think of something quick." Dean threw his shirt back on and went out the door.

Dean didn't get too far for he was feeling very sick. He was feverish, very lightheaded, and was experiencing some abdominal pain. Dean practically crawled back into his bed. The chills were so bad, he was shaking very badly. Sam had already gone out to gather up troops to help kill the black widow or so Dean had assumed. He felt himself drifting off to sleep. He fought to stay awake; no telling what would happen should he fall asleep. Unfortunately, Dean did fall asleep. He didn't hear the hotel room door opening. Dean's stomach was hurting him so much that it woke him up. He woke up just in time, to see Charisse spray her webs all over him.

Hello, Dean," Charisse said. Dean tried to break himself free from the webs but they were too strong, and he was too sick to move. Dean just stared at her for the moment. She was wearing a dress, the upper part was red, and the skirt part was black. Dean put two and two together. 'Always wearing red and black, Charisse Webster, "Charlotte's Web" very clever' dean thought. "The last time I checked, I wasn't a fly. I'm afraid you've mistaken me for Jeff Goldblum." Charisse gave Dean a wicked smile. "Dean, I have to say you have been my favorite. The others didn't have the same sense of humor you do. Always coming up with a joke at the most intense moments. I have to say I had fun with you than any of my other victims." Dean managed to smirk. "I'm flattered," he said flatly. He tried desperately to find some weak spot in the webbing that was covering him. He wasn't having any luck. 'Sam, where the hell are you' thought Dean. Charisse climbed on top of Dean. She arched her back and her fangs descended. Dean tried to hide the fear that he was feeling. Dean shut his eyes tightly. 'I guess my time is up' he thought. Charisse was about to feed, when she was interrupted by Sam bursting in through the door. "Stop now!" Sam cried. "Oh, what is this? Amateur Superhero?" Charisse let out shrill laughter, loud enough to hurt Dean and Sam's ears. In the next moment, Sam had gotten thrown across the room, and immediately covered in Webs. Sam struggled to move. "I have been around for thousands of years and you think your little Heroism was going to stop me?" Charisse turned her attention back to Dean. "Dean, you didn't tell me you had a brother. Hmm, two meals for the price of one. I'm really going to enjoy this." As Charisse moved toward Dean, Sam had managed to take a pocketknife and cut away most of the webbing. Charisse had started to feed, with Dean yelling in agony, when all of a sudden she felt a stinging sensation in her back. She whipped around to see Sam removing a hypodermic needle from her. "What did you do," she asked in a panicky voice. Sam leaned into her. "Let's just say I gave you a taste of your own medicine, you blood sucking bitch." Within minutes, she withered away to nothing. She was gone.

Sam went to cut away the webs that covered Dean. "Are you alright, Dean?" Dean rubbed his neck where Charisse had bit him. "I guess I'm fine considering I was almost a spider's lunch." Dean looked up at Sam. "What did you kill her with?" Sam had on a straight face. "Believe it or not, I had to fill the syringe with dead black widow's venom." Dean made an "Aha" kind of face. "Humph," he said.

Dean got released from the hospital after getting treatment for the venom. Dean let Sam drive the Impala out of town. Sam started up the conversation. "So, when's the wedding date?" Dean just glared at him. "Sam, remind me when we get to where we're going to kill you." Sam just smiled and they drove out of Wyoming playing AC/Dc's Hells Bells.