Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. You don't sue. End of story. However, I do own any events that I have creatively imagined or thought of in my mind before processing them into this fanfic.

Chapter one

The grunts and struggles of a man sounded throughout the woods. Seizures raced engulfed his malnourished, gaunt frame as his eyes shined a sickly yellow glow. After the bones rearranged themselves into a lupine form, he howled, not from pain, but from the freedom he was experiencing after being locked up for so long. Normally he would wait until the full moon, after he had called his betas. But tonight, raw hunger was tearing through him. He had been living on canned fruits and beef jerky. But the meat was dried and tasted similiar to cardboard. He lusted for real meat, live meat, where the sweet metallic taste of blood flowed from each tender bite of prey. Sniffing the air, he sensed smoke from a fire, and humans. he raced through the clearing, avoiding trees and brambles as he ran. Once he reached the camp, he hid behind the foliage and waited for things to settle down. Once the last of the fire had gone out, he grinned and began the game of predator and prey...

Huntsville, Alabama

The deserted road was silent; nothing made noise except the crickets in the nearby woods. A light and sound of a car passing by hushed the little critters. The car was the Impala, driven by none other than the older Winchester brother.

While looking at the road straight ahead, Dean turned his head a moment to review the case.

"Tell me Sammy, what are we looking for?"

"A werewolf," Sam said.

"The real thing? Are you sure?" Dean asked, still skeptical.

"Remember those articles and pictures about that family?" Sam sighed at his brother, who answered with a confused look. "There was a family that was found dead in the woods about five miles away."

Dean shuddered as he nodded. How could he forget those pictures? The family had been mauled and torn into bits. Their entrails and organs were exposed, and the amount of blood that was spilt... Along with that, their hearts were torn out with a chunk of flesh and muscle on their left side. (Might need a little more info from the werewolf episode please!)

"Why are we at this asylum? Shouldn't we be looking for a cave instead?"

"Because a few years back, this hospital had a patient suffering from clinical lycanthropy."

"Clinical lycanthropy?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There are some people who believe they are werewolves. I guess they act like werewolves, but they aren't. They call this mental illness clinical lycantrphy." Sam said, sounding very professional.

The vehicle drove into the dirt road of an asylum. The door creaked open as they got out into their new destination. Dean headed toward the back of his car while Sam looked around. He took note of his surroundings. There were bushes, trees, leaves, everything looked normal. It amazed him how peaceful the world could have appeared to a regular person. In reality, there was a war going on between hunters and creatures bent on causing havoc in the world. As his eyes onto the omnimous shadows in the nearby woods, he felt as if he were being watched by someone...or something.

"What makes us think it's a werewolf?" Dean asked with a grunt, lifting the trunk lid. He threw his brother a gun loaded with silver bullets while he slipped a knife into the hidden straps on his boots. Loading his shotgun along with some extra ammo, he shut the lid and walked toward the iron lock on the black gate, where he proceeded to pick the lock kneeling down.

"Completely mauled with only their hearts gone? I'm pretty sure it's a werewolf."Sam said.

"Could be a demon," Dean said, trying to be difficult. He chuckled as he saw his brother's fume in frustration. "So you think this guy's the real deal?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders then sighed. "It's the only thing we got, the only thing that matches. We're going in here to get his records. Maybe there is something in there that will lead us to him. A photo, perhaps."

"Well, what do we know so far?"

"All we know so far is that his name is Roger Sullivan, age 33, Caucasian male, had an abusive childhood..."

Dean smirked when he heard the satisfying click of an open lock. "Let's go bookworm" Dean said as he partly opened the gate.

Sam ignored that last comment and followed Dean up the hill toward the run-down institution. Dean stopped briefly to unlock the front door. It was easier to unlock the front door compared to the gate.

The interior of the edifice looked sturdier than the outside. It still looked like a hospital, with the exception of the broken dusty windows. There were some fresh blood stains on the white tile floor, indicating that a gruesome event had occured earlier. Dean pulled out his gun and held it with his right hand. With his left hand he scanned the area with his flashlight.

He followed the blood trails until his light fell on the corpse of a half-eaten deer.

"Look's like our monster's been home." Dean commented as he inspected the sight of maggots and flies on the corpse.

Sam followed a path of bloody pawprints, which disappeared under some broken desks.

"Dean!" Sam called as he began to pull the debris away, "I think I found his lair."

Dean rushed over to help his brother. They pushed on the last desk away to reveal a hidden opening on the ground.

"Well come on Sammy. I'll protect you from the dark." Dean winked at his brother who frowned. "Let's finish this sucker." With that, he lowered himself into the hole.