Hungary, 1614

The wind swept through the cemetery, whistling past the stone graves and markers, sweeping dead leaves from the ground and dancing them through the air. A harvest moon hung low in the sky, brilliant orange against a canvas of black, and few stars were able to outshine it. The silence cloaking the air was complete and settled over the area like a heavy blanket. It was easy to believe that this was the last place on earth, and that only the silence of the dead would be left when the world came to an end.

Alina rested one hand on the long-sword at her side and the other hung loose, the wind brushing against it with no more force than a lover's touch. Her blouse was ruffled in the breeze as her eyes watched the cemetery grounds with more than just curiosity. The corset around her torso was not uncomfortable and it allowed her chest to rise and fall with the pattern of her easy breathing. She was not afraid, as most people would have been, treading into the land of the dead after the sun had gone down. She turned and her boots crunched against the dead leaves as she made her way farther into the cemetery.

It was peaceful here, as it could not be in other parts of the recently war-ravaged country. Chaos had found a home in Hungary and was just now beginning to loosen its claws. The last few years had seen war with the Turks in the South, and the monstrous actions of one Countess Erzsébet Báthory, who had died this very year after being locked in her own castle for three years.

Except she had not. Alina knew that the deadly Countess would return, and her hunger would not be satiated with the life of a mortal. For she was not mortal, and her apparent death in the tower of her castle had been a ruse, one that the mortals had fallen for. They would bury her body and leave her to rot in the ground, only the fair skin of the Countess would never rot and she would not stay in the ground as the nobility and peasantry would hope.

Alina's footsteps carried her over the ground slowly and the silence of the dead did not bother her. People would see her as a witch if they found her here, only Alina was never found. She was a shadow, there one minute and swiftly gone the next. Still, if they found her they would try her as a witch for they were a superstitious lot and rightly so. Alina smiled grimly at the thought, at the knowledge that what people feared most lived in the shadows alongside her. But one of those shadows would rise again and live to begin her reign of terror anew, if Alina did not stop her. And Alina, though she was not a saint and blood stained her hands just as any other creature that lurked in the dark, had sworn that the Countess would never take another life.

Alina stopped before the grave that held the Countess's body, and her mouth turned down into a frown. The grave was disturbed, the dirt still fresh but now littering the ground as though a storm had blown past. Alina knew without checking that the grave was empty. There was no body to be found here. She turned away from it and studied the cemetery, her eyes searching the shadows between the headstones and returning to the empty grave behind her.

The Countess was gone.

Johnson City, Texas 2006

"We're gonna have to go out for dinner, dude. Half the stuff in that vending machine looks like it's been around since the middle ages."

Sam Winchester tossed a sheet of paper to his brother the minute he walked through motel room door. Dean caught it deftly and sat down on the edge of the bed to scan it.

Victims: 14 Females between the ages of 10-23 reported missing from Rock Springs, Bastrop and Eden, TX areas. All were taken after dark, signs of struggle in a few cases, no suspects.

Crime Scene Reports: Police report that there are no signs of breaking and entering, all of the girls were taken after dark, there is no sign of violence other than signs of minor struggle in a few cases, and there are no leads as to where the girls have been taken.

Pattern: Suggests that the perpetrator is moving from town to town, collecting victims for unknown purpose.

Sam had taken care to draw a small map at the bottom of the page, starting with the Rock Springs area of Texas. The map traced a line from Rock Springs to Bastrop and from Bastrop to Eden, TX. Dean's eyes widened when he saw what Sam was getting at.

"That's what I thought," Sam said, in reference to his brother's expression. "Whoever the killer is, they're following the beginnings of a rough pentagram. It's not perfect but if they follow the pattern that I think they are, they'll end up here next."

Dean looked to a bigger map that Sam had set out on the table, with the same drawing outlined in marker on its surface. The path took the line to San Antonio, Texas next. If the killer followed the path that Sam thought it would, then their next stop had to be San Antonio. They might be able to beat the kidnapper to its haunting grounds and save some lives.

In the last few crime scenes they had been able to investigate personally, the last one being in Eden, TX, the brothers had found signs of the supernatural that the cops were never going to notice. By the window of one girl's room, a 16 year old FFA member by the name of Bethany Thomas, they had found three droplets of blood. The EMF meter had gone off the charts in that room, suggesting that something supernatural had been there recently.

With such a high-profile case, however, it was going to be difficult to get ahead of the cops and work in the shadows. News stations from all over the country were covering the disappearances, and tossing around words like "serial kidnapper" and "tragedies".

Dean shook his head. "San Antonio, huh? How are we gonna find whatever this thing is in a city that damn big?"

Sam frowned. "I don't have the slightest clue. But if I'm right then we can at least beat this thing there. That will give us one head start. I think if we just look at where the other girls were taken from we might get a clue as to what it prefers."

"Residential neighborhoods, mostly. Middle class families, no animals in the house, all the girls were young, attractive, and. . . ," Dean trailed off.

"Dark haired. And one other thing, all of the girls had at least one parent working outside of the home at night," Sam put in, his voice registering excitement.

"That gives us a place to start," Dean said as he slipped on his jacket. "Let's just hope we catch the bastard this time."

Sam nodded gravely, a strand of dark brown hair drifting down to settle near his left eye as he lifted the duffel bag containing his travel things over his shoulder and opened the door. He stopped short as an envelope fluttered from the door jamb and landed on the cement in front of him.

Dean stepped up beside his brother and took the white paper from his brother as his green eyes searched the darkness, seeking out whoever might have stuck it to the door before leaving. There appeared to be nobody lurking in the area. Dean walked back into the motel room and set his bag down on the floor by his feet. He tore open the envelope and read it aloud to his brother.

Dean and Sam Winchester,

You are on the correct path. Go to San Antonio, but do not waste your valuable time searching in vain. Search the area around the San Antonio State Hospital (6711 S New Braunfels Ave # 100) and there you will find what you are looking for.

Sincerely,

A Friend

"A friend?" Sam echoed. "What kind of friend leaves notes and doesn't bother to stay for a beer?"

Dean looked up at his brother as he pocketed the note. "Since when do you consider beer your beverage of choice?"

"Nevermind," Sam told him. "Who would leave that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll find out. Whoever it is, they seem to think they know us."

Sam pulled the motel room door open again, searching the ground as if expecting to find another cryptic note. The night remained silent and Sam stared at the harvest moon that hung low in the sky, painting an orange cast over the asphalt of the parking lot. The Impala gleamed in the light, a black panther on a sea of black. He walked out into cool November air and Dean shut the door behind him.

"I don't like this," Sam stated.

"Agreed, but we don't have much choice. We don't have any other leads to follow and if this. . person. . .is right, then we'll be saving a lot of time instead of chasing our tails. Our first priority is getting those girls back to their families."

"I know. You don't have to tell me what's important. But I don't like mystery people, and we don't even know if this person is a friend or if they're playing a game with us. It wouldn't be the first time."

Dean shrugged as he unlocked the driver side door. "And it won't be the last. Either way, I'm sure this isn't the last note we'll get and whoever is writing it, maybe we'll find them too."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Sam told his brother darkly.