Tom Watkins nervously put his car into park. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. He was seriously starting to doubt his sanity. He was meeting a girl he'd met online for a date. He sighed heavily. He wasn't bad looking, but he had no luck with women. The internet thing had seemed like a good idea. And she had a beautiful voice. He glanced up and down Main Street. It was just after nine thirty and the small town was already asleep. A few bar windows glowed a neon blue or other color, but the shops were closed. He didn't see any sign of her as he glanced around.

He climbed out of his car and pulled his jacket closer to his shoulder. The cool autumn breeze was chilly. Another reason he thought it was strange she wanted to meet here. He walked around to the passenger side of the car and pulled out the bouquet of flowers. He'd picked out simple carnations, daises, and baby's breath. Flowers were probably over doing it, but he was just tired of being alone. Even if she was company for a little while, that would be better than being alone.

With the flowers cradled in his arm, he turned and gasped, startled by her as she was suddenly standing behind him. She was just as beautiful as her pictures.

"Hello Tom," she purred. Her voice was like pure silk.

"Are those for me?"

He nodded, wishing his throat would loosen up, so he could say something instead of just gawking at her. He couldn't help it, his eyes ravaged over her curves. Remember that this was likely to get him slapped, he looked up again. She was still smiled as she accepted the flowers.

"S-so, what are we doing tonight?"

She smelled the flowers and glanced at him through thick lashes. "It's a surprise."

He nodded. His voice refusing to work. He turned towards his small blue car then back around, she was gone.

"Myra?" he called softly.

"Over here."

He jerked his head towards the soft voice. The words were followed by a light giggle coming from an alley way.

His hands shoved in his pocket, Tom followed. His mind was racing, he couldn't believe how breath taking she was. He rounded the corner of the building and looked down the alley, it was completely cast in dark shadows. "Myra?"

"I'm down here," she called.

Tom walked towards her voice. He glanced over his should as the slim rectangle that lead back to the street, towards the light. Then he felt the pain in his arms, it was as if something has dug nails into both of his forearms and dragged him forward. He started to scream, but his mouth was covered by something wet and hot. His brain screamed in pain as a darkness thicker than the shadows covered him, suffocating him, until there was nothing more.

#

Dean Winchester unfolded the thin newspaper, the paper crinkled in a satisfying way that was lost when he read news articles online. All the technology was for his younger brother Sam. There was something about the feel of the paper, the smudges of the ink, the smell of it all that he enjoyed. There were so few pleasures in his life, he reveled in this one.

He stretched out his legs on the bed and leaned back against the headboard. He was midway through his paper when the green motel room door swung back.

His brother Sam shouldered his way into the room, a large paper brown sack hugged to his broad chest. Dean peered eagerly at the bag. Maybe Sam had some beer, or snacks. He grinned at this, maybe Sam had jerky. As his brother kicked the door shut and flicked the locks, Dean felt his moment of hope fall, out of the top of the bag something leafy and green leaned over the edge.

"What in the hell did you buy?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged and set the bag down on the amazingly clean table. He was impressed. Usually, within ten minutes of checking in, Dean managed to cover everything in hunting gear. It wasn't the typical kind of hunting gear, sure they had shotguns, knives, bullets, but their bullets were silver, their shells were rock salt, and the assortment of knives they had bested any top chef's collection.

Sam took advantage in the empty table and started to empty his grocery bag. He laid carrots, celery, cucumbers, and peppers into one pile, then pulled out a case of strawberries, some applies and a couple of oranges.

Dean's face had not relaxed, if anything, he'd furrowed his eyebrows so hard he'd cast his green eyes in shadows. "What's that?"

Sam smirked and held up an apple. "This is called fruit."

"I know what fruit is, why are you buying it?"

Sam shrugged as he folded the bag and dropped it to the floor. "I'm tired of fast food. You even said you'd like to eat something that you didn't have to microwave."

Dean picked up an apple and took it to the sink, where he washed it then leaned back against the sink. "But I didn't necessarily mean stuff we had to eat raw."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "You're never satisfied are you?"

Dean bit in the apple, his cheeks puffed out with a mouthful of fruit. Realizing it would take more effort than a mouth full of fries, Dean just shrugged his shoulders and managed a grin. "Look at this, a man was found dead in an alley. His heart gone."

"Like ripped out by a werewolf?" Sam asked.

"No. Like gone. Not inside his chest. Just gone. No wounds. His heart had just vanished." Dean looked up at his brother.

Sam was staring quizzically at his brother. "You found that inside the paper?"

Dean shrugged and tossed the paper aside. "I looked on computer and got the police report."

"Where did it happen?"

"Right here in town."

Sam raised his dark eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Right here? Well that's convenient."

Dean shrugged. "It's a good thing we didn't skip town."

#

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