Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Supernatural, or anything else for that matter. So please don't sue, I don't have much to give except for six tattered Harry Potter books and a fat rabbit.
Rating: T for language and violence
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a town where men are disappearing, and one of the brothers becomes the next target.
Where The Beauty Ends
Chapter One
"There's been four disappearances, all within the past two months," Sam said, giving a glance towards Dean in the driver's seat. "None of the bodies were ever found." The eldest Winchester gave a nod as the black Impala passed the small sign that read in bold letters "Welcome to Denton. Population: 411".
"Sounds like our type of deal." His eyes flickered towards Sam for a brief instant before returning towards the road. Thick pine trees passed by in a blur as the narrow two-lane street came towards a dead end. Dean turned the steering wheel towards the right, the car turning onto Main Street.
"And the victims were all men?" Dean asked.
"Uh, yeah," Sam responded glancing down at the newspaper article he held in his hand. "All men, aged anywhere between eighteen and fifty. Nothing else though."
"Think it's some sort of freaky girl spirit looking for revenge?"
Sam gave his head a small shake while raising a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I don't know, it could be anything. Could just be coincidence, I guess."
"Nothing's ever just coincidence, Sammy."
Silence settled over the car. Sam glanced out the window and Dean voiced what he had just been thinking. "This place is like a ghost town."
Main Street seemed be the hub the town, though there were only two or three people on the sidewalks at the moment. Smaller roads spiked off towards the left and right and small buildings lined the sides of the road, their names screaming simplicity. Sam's stomach rumbled as he eyed Harry's Diner, the sign out front proclaiming that it had the best pie in Montana.
"What's this lady's address, again?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam.
"2235 Bower Street," Sam said. He raised a finger, pointing towards the next intersection. "Right up there." Dean turned the wheel sharply to the left, almost missing the turn.
"Her name's Wendy Levings," Sam continued, unfazed by the jerk of the car, and Dean pulled to a stop outside a dumpy, almost lopsided house. As Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition, Sam opened the glove compartment, pulling out two fake police badges and handing one to Dean.
"Age thirty eight," Sam continued as the two got out of the car and made their way towards the front door. "Never had any kids, her husband Mark was the first to disappear."
"Right."
Stopping on the porch, Dean gave three hard knocks on the door. For a long time nothing happened. Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I guess she's not home," Dean shrugged.
"Her car's in the driveway," Sam countered.
Dean opened his mouth to respond when the door suddenly swung open. A very short, squat woman stood behind the screen door, looking up at them. The top of her head came only came up to Sam's chest and she was a little overweight, her hair a curly and frizzy black bun on the top of her head.
"Yes?" she asked slowly.
"Mrs. Levings?" Dean asked, looking down at her.
Her small black eyes looked back and forth between Sam and Dean. "Yes," she said again.
"I'm Inspector Black," Dean continued shortly as he flipped open his badge. Sam followed suit. "This is my partner, Inspector White. We're investigating the disappearances and would like you ask you a few questions."
Wendy crossed her arms, visibly hardening. "Look, I already talked to the police about it last month."
"It would only take a few minutes of your time," Sam interjected. "Please."
She sighed and waited a moment before answering. "Alright, come on in." Reaching up a pudgy hand, she pulled the door open, stepping back to allow Sam and Dean to walk in - both having to duck slightly to fit through the small door.
"Can I get you boys anything to drink?" Wendy asked over her shoulder as she led the way down the hall into the living room. It was obvious she was trying to be a good host, but the tone of her voice showed that she clearly did not want them there. "Water? Soda? Lemonade?"
"Lemonade would be great, thanks," Dean said.
"Oh, no thank you," Sam answered as she glanced up at him, annoyed.
"You can just make yourselves at home," Wendy nodded, waving her hand in the direction of the living room. "I'll be there in just a minute."
---
"Did your husband say or do anything unusual during the time before he disappeared?" Dean asked when the three had settled into the small room. Sam and Dean sat on a floral-patterned couch across from Wendy, sitting in a chair of the same decoration. They were separated by a wooden table, on which sat Dean's glass of lemonade next to a stack of old TV guides and newspapers.
"No...well, not really," Wendy answered, giving a small shake of her head. "Mark and I were going though a rough time in our marriage... he was more irritable than usual, but he blamed work."
"What did he do?" Sam asked, leaning forward slightly.
"Construction," Wendy answered, brushing a loose curl of hair out of her face. "He was the manager of a branch of a small company on the other side of town. They had just started a new project, a restaurant, but he had to lay off three people in one week... budget cuts... had him pretty worked up."
"Was there anything else? Anything that didn't seem normal?" Dean pressed.
"Not normal?" repeated Wendy, tilting her head slightly. "Why do you ask?"
"Just anything to help us figure out what happened. Why he disappeared," Dean covered quickly, clasping his hands together.
"Well, no, I'm sorry," Wendy shook her head again. "There wasn't anything."
Sam and Dean glanced at each other for a brief instant before standing up together. "Well, thank you for your time," Sam nodded, smiling the small woman.
Wendy nodded, "Of course." She stood up as well, leading the way back towards the door.
---
"What do you think?" Dean asked as he steered the car out of the neighborhood.
"I think she's telling the truth," Sam said confidently. "She doesn't know anything."
"And if she's lying?"
"Why would she lie?" Sam turned to look at Dean, who shrugged.
Dean turned the car back into Main Street and Sam once again glanced at Harry's Diner. Dean caught him eyeing it hungrily, and, smirking to himself, parked the car outside the building.
"Let's get some pie."
---
Reviews would be appreciated, if you please.