"So, where are we going again?" Dean asked, fingers tapping in time with a Metallica tape.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked back at his laptop. That was the second time Dean had asked that. "We're going to this town called Louisville. It's in Colorado. Seven people have been found murdered there. They all died the same way .Bite marks all over them. Blood everywhere. But the thing is all the people had relatives that had a terminal sickness, which they somehow recovered from."
"So, where dealing a hellhound here?"
"Most probably, but we'll just have to find out when we get there."
"So Sammy, I guess we've got ourselves a case then."
"Please, just Sam."
"Sorry Sammy." Sam scowled at Dean, then retreated into angry silence.
Neither of the Winchesters talked to each other after that. Sam was busy tapping on his laptop and Dean, singing to his favourite songs. Around four hours later they arrived in Louisville. They parked the impala in a free parking space and walked into the 80°F air.
"God it's hot today." Dean moaned, wishing he was wearing something other than his suit and tie.
Sam ignored him. "According to the newspaper, the most recent one was here. 714 Garfield Avenue." He pointed at the house in front of them.
"I hope they have air conditioning." Dean grumbled.
The two brothers walked up to the front door and knocked. A woman opened the door. She looked middle aged, with obvious grey streaks in her black hair.
"Are you Sandy Myra?" Sam asked. The woman nodded. "We're FBI." They both showed her their fake badges. "We're here to ask a few questions about your husband. May we come in?" She nodded again and walked back into the house. Sam and Dean followed.