Chapter 1 – Some, Damn Teenager

It was a quiet night in this part of Auburn Hills, Michigan—a warm breeze filled the May air. Most people were sleeping and no cars drove down the street lined with pristine houses and perfectly manicured lawns; all that was needed to complete the perfect image were some white picket fences. However, there was one house which stood out amongst the rest. The neighborhood tended to ignore it along with the people who lived there. They were just too…different. The small house was in shambles—weeds had taken over the front lawn, the front porch was rotting, the roof was starting to cave in, and most of the windows were broken and covered in cardboard. The occupants—Bill and Joyce Smith—seemed…out of place. The only noise in town came from this house.

"Get down!" Sam roared.

Dean quickly ducked as his brother slit Joyce Smith's throat. Her eyes widened in surprise as she slumped to the floor, dead before hitting it.

"Son of a bitch! Sammy, we can't keep this up!" Dean and Sam both knew they were fighting a losing battle. They had only come for the Smiths but had soon discovered that there were more than just two demons in town. Many more.

"I know, Dean, I know! Dammit!" Sam tossed Ruby's knife to Dean and grabbed his salt gun, trying to buy them some time. They had killed three demons so far, but there were still ten taking turns attacking them, grinning maliciously. The boys had already run out of holy water and were running low on energy.

Dean stabbed the fourth demon through the heart and was approaching a fifth when the knife was knocked out of his hand.

Grinning, the former Bill Smith picked it up. "Come on now, boys," he chuckled, playing with the knife. "Let's make this easy. We'll send Dean back to Hell, beat the angels, and Sam here'll get rewarded for breaking the final seal. Everyone's happy." He seemed to take a moment to think before shrugging. "Well," he added, "not you, Dean, but you get the picture. What do you say?"

The Winchesters both tried to think of ways to make it out of the house alive, but they came up short. All they could do was go down fighting. "I say, stuff it!" growled Dean.

Demon-Bill's grin widened. "I was hoping you would say that".

Dean and Sam opened fire on the demons. However, while some recoiled from the salt, the others continued to take turns advancing on the boys. As their rock-salt shells ran low, Sam and Dean were out of ideas. That was when the demons started dropping to the floor one by one, dead.

As the last demon fell, it shared the same surprised look that was plastered on the boys' faces.

Shooting Dean a confused glance, Sam warily made his way across the room to inspect the bodies.

Dean moved to retrieve the knife from Demon-Bill's motionless hand. "Uh…Sammy? What the hell just happened?"

"Dude, you are not gonna believe this!" Sam pointed to a hole in one of the dead demon's forehead. "These are bullet wounds! They…they got…shot. But that would mean that—"

Shaking his head furiously, Dean cut his brother off. "No. That's impossible. It's gone, Sam, it's gone."

Sam stood back up and sighed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Well then, how else do you explain this?"

"I…I don't know. It must have been…some sort of crazy, witchcraft hoodoo…uh—"

Dean's struggle for an explanation was cut short by someone clearing their throat. Both boys pivoted, their guns automatically aiming at the sound. Standing outside the window was a teenage girl; she wore a cocky expression. Her straight, shoulder-length, auburn hair twitched in the slight breeze. The girl was dressed in a sleeveless black shirt, black Capri pants, and black running shoes, making her pale skin stand out in the moonlight.

Winking, the girl held a gun up for the Winchesters to see, turned, and ran, disappearing into the night.

Sam and Dean shared wide-eyed, incredulous looks. Their mouths gaped like fish.

After a moment, Dean was the first to speak. "Was that—"

"Yeah, it was," Sam nodded, completing Dean's thoughts for him.

"But that would mean that—"

"The Colt's back,"

"And it's…"

"In the hands of some, damn teenager? Yep. That pretty much sums it up."

Dean stormed over to the other side of the room and punched hole into the wall's drywall out of frustration.

"Son of a bitch!"