HEY! So I started to watch Supernatural and I got hooked! I watched twelve episodes in a day! Wow, I need help. But ya! Read and review :) xoxo Amber

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters (I wish!)

"Are you frickin' kidding me? What are you doing, you idiot? Why don't you fumble the ball a little more?"

Sam Winchester wakes up to hear his brother Dean shouting at the radio. "Dean, you know they can't hear, right?" Sam says groggily, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and still waking up.

"Ya' don't say," Dean says sarcastically. "Thanks for informing me about that. And to think I thought they could hear me all these years."

"Oh, shut up," Sam rolls his eyes. "So, where are we?"

"Addison, Michigan," Dean replies. "It's a teeny little town with about 600 people."

"Fun..." Sam mutters.

Sam looks out the window at the dark scenery, still feeling a little sleepy. His eyes start to flutter when he sees something that makes his heart stop: a hideously disgusting face, dark but somehow pale, shallow and dripping with blood. All of a sudden it leaps at the car, hitting the passenger side door, making a loud bang. Dean swerves the car, almost running off the road.

When Dean gets the car under control and parked, he exclaims, "What the hell was that!?"

"D-Did you not see that!?" Sam practically yells.

"Uh, no! I was doing something called driving and paying attention to the road! Ever heard of it, Sam?" Dean shoots back at his younger brother.

"It was a p-pale and bloody face! It jumped at t-the car!" Sam says, looking out the window, trying to find whatever that thing was.

"Seem like something we'd deal with?" Dean asks.

"Definitely," Sam nods.

"Well, let's see what the heck that son of a bitch was and what it was doing trying to hurt my baby," Dean says, gesturing to the Impala.

The duo exits the car and scans their surroundings.

"I can't see a thing," Sam says. "It's too dark."

"Great..." Dean mumbles. "Let's go."

But before they can get into the car, a hissing sound comes from the front of the car.

"Do you think that's it?" Sam whispers, ducking, as does his brother. "The thing that attacked the car?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna' find out," Dean says, grabbing a gun from the trunk.

The two creep to the front. Dean turns and sighs in exaggeration. "Dude, did you not grab a gun?"

"Oh. No. Oops," Sam shrugs sheepishly.

"Oops is right, Doofus," Dean rolls his eyes and pulls Sam behind him. "Be careful."

Sam nods and the two pop out to the front of the car.

They furrow their brows and frown as they see nothing.

"What?" Dean aske incredulously, whipping around, trying to find what had made the hissing sound. "I know I heard something!"

"Uh, Dean?" Sam says. "I think I know what it was."

"What?" Dean says, turning back when he nearly cries aloud.

Smokes billows out from the hood. Dean rushes over to pop the hood. Dean coughs after inhaling the smoke and growls, "Damn it! The radiator's shot! Oh, my poor baby. Well, we won't be goin' anywhere for a while."

"With that thing out there?" Sam asks, a scared look on his face.

"Ya' scared?" Dean grins.

"N-No!" Sam stutters, trying to seem brave for his big brother. "I just don't especially want to be attacked today!"

"So, in other words, you're scared," Dean replies, still smiling.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I am NOT!"

"Whatever, Scaredy-Pants," Dean shakes his head, grinning. "Well, where are we gonna' stay?"

"I see a light up ahead. That's probably our best bet," Sam says, squinting at a light up the road.

"No! Don't go toward the light, Sam!" Dean jokes.

"Oh, shut up, Dean," Sam rolls his eyes.

"Dude, you completely set yourself up for that one."

The two make to their way towards the light, but not before Dean seriously locks up his baby.

When they come to the house, they are taken aback. It's SO old. The black paint is chipping off, the dark blue shutters are hanging off the hinges, and a rusty gate surrounds the house. Gnarled trees infest the ground and a murky lake is in the front.

"Oh, this place looks fun," Dean mutters sarcastically.

"Like a blast," Sam says back.

The brothers open the gate and walk up the cobblestone path up to the front porch. Dean knocks on the door and they wait for a few seconds until the door swings open to reveal an tiny, old woman with deep brown eyes and grey hair tied up in a high bun.

"Why, hello there!" the woman exclaims, smiling at the boys. "Welcome to the Green Loon Bed and Breakfast! Do you need a place to stay?"

"Yes please, ma'am," Sam smiles back at the old lady.

"Oh, call me Vicky, but my, are you polite! What are you fine gentlemen' names?" the old woman apparently named Vicky asks.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam," Dean says, shaking Vicky's hand as does Sam.

"Delighted to meet ya'll! Well, come on in! I'll get ya'll a room!" Vicky says, pulling the boys in the B and B.

The inside is less creepy than the inside. Plush chairs and couches sit around a cozy fire in one room. A deep mahogany table complete with the same color for chairs sit in the dining room. The whole place has cozy furniture but somehow creepy furniture. It's less creepy than inside, but still creepy.

"There ya' go!" Vicky drops a key into Dean's hand.

"Don't you need our last name or any information?" Dean asks quizzically.

"I know your first names, don't I?" Vicky smiles. "Dinner tonight is at five-thirty, breakfast tomorrow is at eight-fifteen and the bathrooms are across the hall on your right from your room. Enjoy your stay!"

"Thank-you. Oh, and our radiator's shot. Is there a mechanic nearby that could help?" Dean asks.

"My son Randy is one," Vicky says. "He could take a look at it! There he is now! And my husband Louis!"

A large man with a big burly mustache comes in the door, wiping his feet on the mat as he does so. A smaller man follows him with the beginnings of a beard.

"Louis and Randy! These are our guests! Sam and Dean!" Vicky explains.

The men and the brothers shake hands. Randy's handshake is a weak one, while his father's practically crushed the duo's hands.

"Wow," Dean says, shaking his pain to try and get rid of the pain. "Nice handshake ya' got there, Louis."

Louis just glares at Dean and Sam.

"Right," Sam says, feeling awkward. "So Vicky says that Randy, you're a mechanic?"

"Yes," Randy says quietly.

"Could you take a look at our car, when you get a chance? The radiator's shot," Sam explains.

Randy nods. "Enjoy your stay."

"That'd be great! And we will," Sam smiles and the boys up the creaky steps to their room.

The room is small and the door groans as it opens. It's dusty and looks as if no one's been here for years. Two single cots lay side-by-side separated by a small, dusty side-table drawer.

"Wow. This is better than the Plaza," Dean says sarcastically.

"Dean, we should be grateful that their letting us stay here," Sam says, hopping on one of the small beds and kicking off his shoes.

"Vicky was a little too eager for us to stay here, if you ask me," Dean says, doing the same as Sam.

"Well, I didn't ask, so," Sam replies, grinning slightly.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut up, but seriously. She seemed to really want us here."

"Maybe she thinks you're hot, who knows?" Sam jokes, flipping on the ancient black and white television set. "This T.V. looks like it could've been used when Grandpa was little," Sam jokes again, trying to get his brother's mind off of Vicky, who Sam thinks is quite harmless.

"I don't know. This place just gives me the creeps," Dean shudders.

"I'll give you that one. It is super creepy here," Sam agrees.

"And Louis and Randy? What weirdoes!" Dean says, shaking his head.

"What can ya' do?" Sam shrugs.

The boys watch T.V. for a while until they notice it's six twenty-five.

"We should down for dinner, I guess," Sam says as the boy exit their room. "I wonder what she's serving.

"Human brains," Dean mumbles.

Sam smacks Dean upside his head but Dean doesn't do anything; he deserved that.

"Now, be nice. No jokes like that, okay?" Sam pleads. "I don't want to get thrown out, especially with that thing out there."

"What is with you and that creature?" Dean asks, as the duo descend the stairs. "We deal with stuff like that all the time."

"I don't know," Sam admits. "Just that it attacked the car and was so, so close to me, I guess."

"Well, don't worry. I won't let it get my Scaredy-Cat," Dean grins to which Sam rolls his eyes again. He tends to do that a lot, especially with Dean around.

When they enter the dining room, they see Vicky placing a giant turkey on the table. "Oh, there you two are!"

"Vicky, you shouldn't have gone too so much trouble for us! We're not that hungry!" Sam insists, but the second these words leave his lips, Sam's stomach answers for itself by rumbling noisily and quite loudly. Sam blushes and puts a hand to his belly.

"Well, I guess your tummy feels differently," Vicky smiles. "It's really not any trouble. I love to cook! Come! Sit, sit!"

It really does it fantastic. The turkey glistens with fresh gravy, green peas steam from a ceramic bowl, warm rolls smeared with jelly sit in another bowl, and most likely fresh-squeezed orange juice sit upon the table.

"Well, this looks great, Vicky," Dean smiles at Vicky. "Thank-you."

"Yeah, thanks a bunch," Sam nods.

"Well, dig in!" Vicky smiles and heads back to the kitchen.

"Will do," Dean calls.

Sam grabs for a roll and Dean smacks his hand. "Ow! What are you doing?"

"Dude, it's so poisoned," Dean says, giving his younger brother a serious look.

"It is not!" Sam says, giving Dean an incredulous look back. "What is with you and Vicky?"

"There's something about her. Something wrong," Dean says, suspiciously peeking at Vicky washing dishes in the kitchen.

"Well, I think she's fine and I'm starving so I'm gonna' eat the 'poisoned'," air quotations here, "food."

Sam grabs a drumstick and Dean watches him carefully. "If you die, I'm so saying, 'I told you so'."

"I wouldn't be able to hear you," Sam says, taking a bite. "I'd be dead."

"I still would," Dean says.

"Whatever. This is amazing, Dean! You have to try some!" Sam says, digging in as Vicky instructed him.

"Not if you paid me a million buckaroos!" Dean exclaims.

After Sam had eaten half the food on the table, Vicky comes back in. "I'm so glad you liked it, Sam! Dean, did you have any?"

"Not hungry," Dean says, almost snootily.

"Too bad," Vicky says, clearing away the plates.

"You missed out, Dean," Sam says, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "That was a great meal!"

"Shoot," Dean says sarcastically.

"Well, you two better head up to bed. It's pretty late," Vicky says, coming back from the kitchen after she deposited the plates in the sink. "And with how much this one ate," Vicky ruffles Sam' hair, "I'd say he will be asleep in a few minutes."

Dean narrows his eyes at Vicky. "It's only six o'clock."

"Yes. Late."

"Riiiiight. Come on, Sam." Dean pulls Sam up from the table and practically runs to their room.

"What is up with you?" Sam says, flopping on the bed.

"That chick is up to something!" Dean exclaims.

"Why?" Sam asks. "What has she done?"

"Okay!" Dean says. "Let's see: She didn't want any information, making us a huge fancy-dancy meal, ruffling your hair?"

"That's just being nice, Dean," Sam replies. "Ever heard of it?"

"Whatever, dude," Dean says. "I'm grabbin' our equipment from the car. Be right back."

"Alright, Mr. Paranoid," Sam says, slipping under the covers.

Dean turns back. "You're tired? It's six-o-five."

"Yeah," Sam shrugs.

"Night, weirdo."

"Good night."

When Dean returns from the car after smuggling in his bag all the equipment he thought he'd need, he crept up the stairs. Vicky had already gone too bed; what is with that chick?

Unlocking the door, Dean says, "Got the stu-"

Dean drops the bag.

Hovering over Sam's bed is what is the most horrifying creature, Dean's ever seen: Pale, yet dark, and bloody. So bloody.

Sam turns over helplessly in his sleep.

And in one fell swoop the creature, dives right for Sam.