Chapter 1.

Boy was Sammy gonna love this, Dean thought, grinning wickedly. His firm hands pulled at the steering wheel for one final turn, and set the Impala in park. Beside him, in the passenger seat, sat a long wooden box. The outside surface consisted of fine black leather, but the box remained mainly made of wood. Two handles were fixed on each long end of the box, which made it easier to carry.

Dean pulled himself out of the Impala and walked around to the passenger door to grab the box. He grunted under its weight for a moment, sticking out his tongue, but soon adjusted. With no one looking, Dean tried to prop it over his shoulder, bared his teeth, and succeeded. But no one joined in his minuscule achievement.

From the front door of the Bunker, Sam could be seen hard at work drowsing over some books. Dean crept down the stairs hoping to catch his brother by surprise. With the case in arms, he walked into the next room, doing his best to keep the box from Sam's view. Once the coast was clear, Dean clicked open the wooden box, revealing a small figure.

It had arms and legs, red lips and big blue eyes—all made of wood. Except for the eyes, Dean wasn't too sure. They looked more like glass in the sense they reflected light, almost like real eyes. With a suppressed chuckle, and giddy delight, Dean propped the dummy on his right hand and found Sam.

"How ya doing Sammy?" Dean threw the dummy over Sam's shoulder, speaking in a high-toned voice, almost squeaky, talking for the dummy.

Sam jolted in his seat, no longer on the verge of sleep but wide awake as he scrambled in his chair in an attempt to get away before seeing Dean.

"What the hell man!" Sam looked tired, Dean almost felt bad. Almost. He still laughed, which only added to Sam's displeasure.

"Someone's grumpy, what's wrong Sammy?" He made the dummy say, surprisingly good at keeping his own lips as closed as possible. "What do you think Sam? I could've been a ventriloquist in another life, eh?"

"Just cut it out Dean. Where'd you even get that… piece of junk?" Sam kept his gaze fixed on the dummy, as if it were second cousins with clowns. At this point he relaxed in his chair, dubbing this as another of Dean's silly distractions. Since accepting the Mark of Cain as a permanent reality, only two things kept Dean at bay: hunting and silly distractions.

"C'mon, he's one of a kind! You're just jealous he knows how to dress better than you." Dean pressed on, trying to convert Sam into loving the doll like he did. "Got a great deal too, pawned him off the clerk for only ten bucks. Here Sammy, give it a try." Dean shoved the dummy in Sam's face only to have it violently hit to the side and off Dean's hand. It landed on the floor with a soft thud a short distance away. Sam just wouldn't budge.

"I don't want to, and besides, you should throw that thing out. In some cultures, dummies bring bad luck."

"What? You don't like how it looks at you, is that it? Afraid it's going to stab you in the middle of the night? Those are just children's Goosebumps stories." Dean moved to pick up the fallen dummy, splayed across the floor with its limps sticking out at odd angles.

"Actually, yeah. You know there can be a hint of truth behind R. L. Stine's work, and he does feature a few creatures we've come up against like werewolves and ghosts or spirits, however you call them. What's that?" asked Sam, nodding toward the dummy slung over Deans forearm, at the piece of paper sticking out of its back.

Dean picked it up, noticed a short manuscript, and tried to read it.

"Karru marri odonna lo-ma mo-lonu kar-rano. What is that, Latin?"

"Here hand it over." And at Sam's request, Dean handed the slip of paper to Sam, who checked the front and back. A wrinkle of his forehead and a shrug of shoulders told Dean it wasn't Latin. "I can't make it out."

Dean shrugged, "It's probably some made-up magic words." He propped the dummy back on his hand, and stared at it for a second. "Isn't that right buddy?"

"That's right Dean!" He voiced for the once empty shell, and grinned like a kid at Christmas. He looked back at Sam.

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid," he prompted the dummy to say and Sam rolled his eyes. He slung the dummy back over his arm, "I'm keeping him."

Dean pointed to the lettering engraved behind its neck. "But here's the best part: it's name is Slappy."


AN: Hi guys! This is a short little thing to help me transition back into writing and I've been watching a lot of Supernatural and just watched the nostalgic Goosebumps movie and it got my writing gears working. Let me know what you think! I might continue it haha, I don't see a lot of Supernatural and Goosebumps crossovers. We can change that.