Michael Remington picked up the chains that were scattered around his feet and gripped them tight in one hand. He sucked in a deep breath and glanced quickly around the wall he was hiding behind. A tall, young woman was sitting in a chair a few yards away with her back to him.
"I can smell you, you know." The woman said.
Mike swallowed. "Yes." He grunted through clenched teeth.
"Then you know you can't hurt me with that little wooden stake you're carrying."
Mike gripped the stake in one hand and the chain in the other. He stepped out from behind the wall and moved toward the young woman, who was a vampire. As he stepped up behind her, he lifted the stake up and spoke. "I'm just hoping it might distract you." He rammed the stake down and it jammed in the young vampire's shoulder blade. She let a screech and jumped out of her seat.
Mike flipped the chain up and wrapped it quickly around her neck. She was disoriented as he pushed her roughly up against a wall and tugged the chains tight. She spit at his face and he cursed.
"You know this doesn't help-" The chains began to cut off her vocal cord and she choked.
Mike's brow furrowed and he loosened then slightly.
"Doesn't help what?"
Her eyes rolled back slightly and blood was spilling down from where the chains were cutting into her skin. Mike shook her.
"Doesn't change what?" He repeated.
"Your brother." She hissed.
Mike's eyes widened and he swallowed. Then pulled the chains tight.
Mike wiped the blood off of his hands as the body burned in front of him. He coughed and pulled out his cell phone. He pushed the number two on his speed dial.
"Hello?"
"Ash," Mike breathed a sigh of relief. "You okay, bud?"
"Yeah, what's wrong, Mike?" Asher's voice grew concerned. Mike sat down on the ground and sighed. Asher was at college back home. He remembered when he'd wanted to go to college. Always thought it'd be cool to get a degree in something really random and have an awesome job that everyone would be jealous. But those ideas vanished when he met the Winchester brothers. He cleared his throat.
"Nothing. Just checking up on ya." They talked for a few minutes more, than said their goodbyes. Mike flipped the cell phone shut and watched the burning corpse in front of him. What had that vampire meant? What did him killing her have to do with Asher? He had a bad feeling in the pit of his gut. He flipped his cell phone back open and pressed the three on speed dial. Someone picked up on the other end of the line and Mike whispered: "Dean?"
...
"Sonuvabitch." Dean Winchester muttered, as he flexed his horribly bruised shoulder and arm in front of the motel mirror.
"It got ya good, huh?" His brother, Sam Winchester said, standing behind him.
Dean pulled his shirt back on carefully and grunted. "How come the bastard didn't attack you?"
Sam coughed a laugh. "Well, Pagan lore does say that the Kifel goes after the...shorter of its attackers." Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Brad Garrett."
Sam grinned at him as Dean walked past the two queen beds and picked up his phone off of the table that had just started to ring. He flipped it open.
"Hey, Simba."
"Dean?" The person on the other end of the line answered.
"What's happening, bud?" Dean mouthed the word Mike to Sam, who nodded.
"I just killed a vamp."
"Oh, nice." Dean pulled out one of the chairs that sat at the little motel table and sat down with a sigh, moving his shoulder back and forth with a wince. Sam listened from his spot on the one bed where he had his rifle laid out and was cleaning the pieces.
"Yeah, thanks." Mike paused for a second then continued. "But that vamp said something before she bit the dust."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. She said that, me killing her wouldn't help my brother."
Dean thought for a second. "Asher's still at the state U, right?"
"Yeah, I just talked to him. He sounds fine."
Dean heard the worry in Simba's voice. He'd given the kid the nickname one day when the three of them had been stuck in a motel room while it rained. Mike had just left home and was staying with them. He'd decided when he finished school to take up hunting. He said it had been because of something Dean had told him the night he killed the Shtriga in his bedroom. When Mike arrived on their doorstep and told them he'd decided to become a hunter, of course both Sam and Dean had been against it. But Mike had persisted. So, after the brothers eventually gave in, they began to teach him everything they knew. He'd helped them on the job they had been working on and had actually saved them from a century old ghost who didn't take to kindly to Sam and Dean walking into her cemetery. Turns out the kid was pretty much born to hunt. After the job was finished, they spent the whole rainy weekend watching movies and ordering take-out. Mike had turned on the Disney movie, 'Lion King'. Dean still remembered the conversation they had had thorough watching the movie.
Dean: What's this called again?
Mike: The Lion King. You've seriously never seen it?
Sam: Nope.
Mike: Ash and I used to watch this all the time.
Dean: Who's the shady dude with the scar?
Mike: The bad guy, who else?
Dean: Isn't that Whoopi Goldberg?
Sam: You seriously know who Whoopi Goldberg is?
Dean: 'Ghost', dude.
Mike: You're missing the epic song.
Sam: But, doesn't Nala know it's him?
Mike: She will, calm down.
Dean: I like the warthog.
After they had finished it, Dean had told Mike that he reminded him of the young Simba. So, from then on, Dean started calling Mike 'Simba' every now and then. The kid didn't seem to mind.
"I just," Mike huffed out a breath. "I don't know."
Dean listened. When Mike didn't say anything for a moment, Dean spoke his name.
"I just have a bad feeling."
Dean sniffed and nodded. "Where you at, kid?"
"Just outside New Harmony."
Dean looked over at Sam. "We'll be right there."
The 1967 Chevy Impala pulled into an empty parking lot in New Harmony, Utah with Back In Black by AC/DC blasting out the windows. Mike watched them park and walked toward the car. Dean opened the door and stepped out. He grinned when Mike came up to him.
"How you doing, Simba?" He pulled the kid into a quick hug and slapped him on the back as he pulled away. Mike rolled his eyes and looked at Dean.
"Just fine, Pumbaa." His signature devilish grin spreading over his face.
Dean stared. "Why am I the big, fat one?"
"Because you liked the warthog. Hey Sam," Sam had stepped around the car and shook hands with Mike and hit him on the back, just like Dean had.
Dean thought about this statement for a moment, then accepted it, and moved on. "So this vampire say anything else to you?" He asked.
Mike shook his head. "Nada. I called Asher again today and I think he's sorta freaked. This is the most he's heard from me in weeks." He looked down at his shoes.
Sam cleared his throat. "Well, there doesn't seem to be a nest in town. I say we head to Ash and see if we find any there. My guess is, if a vampire told you, they're the ones behind it. They usually only cover their own kind."
Mike nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Sam and Dean loaded back into the Impala and headed out, with Mike following in his 1986 Buick Grand.
