Prologue

Sam and Dean treaded through the woods searching for the source of the signal that their EMF detector had been picking up for the last half hour. That time had basically been filled with more than a dozen silly arguments on music preference and five minute periods of silent shunning before the cycle repeated.

"You think it's busted?" Sam called out, walking toward a tree to rest.

Before Dean could reply, an ear-piercing scream cut through the trees ahead of them. The two boys raced toward the sound, tearing through the thorns and branches of the forest as another pained cry sounded from up ahead. Dean reached the source first, gazing in terror as a young woman struggled on the ground, seemingly pinned by an invisible force. Something was tearing through her flesh and pools of blood had formed around her. Dean had a good idea of what that invisible force was, and he wasn't too happy about it either. Sam soon reached the scene and took action by lunging at where he correctly assumed the beast was, pushing it off of the wounded girl and managing to wrestle it to the ground. Dean immediately knelt next to the broken figure of the girl, applying pressure to her wounds as her blood-loss forced her into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, Sam had managed to take the beast's attention from the wounded woman, and he now took out his gun, blowing a hole through the invisible monster without hesitation. Salt rock, it would at least injure the monster if it was a Hellhound like both the brothers theorized. By now, Dean had shaken himself from his quite rational fear, and by instinct, he grabbed the nearest sharp object that he could find, hoping to help kill this thing. He lunged at the supposed Hellhound and viciously stabbed it. Almost immediately, it stopped struggling and grew silent.

They had killed a Hellhound? How? Neither man even thought about this as they rushed back to the wounded woman. She was the most important thing now, she was the priority. Sam stood beside Dean and glanced at the young woman lying in front of them. She was wearing bloody, torn up clothes and she looked like she was in her mid-twenties. Her chocolate brown hair was matted to her head in sticky, crimson patches and her stomach and leg were bleeding profusely. She also seemed to be bleeding from a small wound on her shoulder.

"Is she..," Dean started worriedly, glancing at his brother.

"Dead? No, but barely alive," Sam muttered after checking the girl's wrist and finding a "there-but-faint" pulse.

He scooped her up with ease and headed back the way that the two brothers had come, more careful to avoid obstacles now that they were in less of a mad rush.

"She needs a hospital," Sam stated firmly, his eyes hiding the worry that had begun to creep into his mind. Had they gotten there sooner they might have been able to save her. What if she died now? It would just be another weight on their shoulders, and after causing the apocalypse that was all they needed.

"Hey, Sammy? That might not be the best idea."

Sam turned around to find Dean holding up some stuff from the duffel bag that the woman had been carrying for him to see. He held three short silver daggers, two sawed-off shotguns, a couple of pistols, some small satchels, and what appeared to be an angel blade that he had retrieved before they had left the scene.

"This isn't just some ordinary girl," Dean said, suppressing the shock that rose into his words with ease due to practice. "I think we've found ourselves a hunter."