Chapter Three.

The big cat enclosures were fairly easily found, zoo management obviously seeing them as some big lure and making sure both paths and signs all pointed towards their feline exhibits. Ice cream carts – evidently another a big lure – also dotted the route and without Sam to act as his parole officer Dean was pretty free to gorge, although not one seemed to have any damn chocolate, nor did the bag of salt slung over one shoulder and the flashlight clutched in his hand make the process of finding one any easier.

Beyond him the pens and cages sat quiet and dark, either high-rimmed pits of nearly natural habitat or else thick solid bars set back from the visitor pathways by railings and heavy-duty ditches the preventative measures softened by little information boards flanking the enclosures and adorned with each animals' picture, name and some basic species facts. The ability to, and preference for eating humans did not seem to be mentioned.

Skirting around the pathways dotted with brightly stencilled paw-prints denoting some sort of viewing order, Dean headed towards the tiger enclosure figuring it as good a place as any to start. If Bobby wanted the most dangerous things salted out of demon reach first, then it seemed sensible to start with the ones that had already fallen under her influence.

Unsurprisingly the entrance to the tiger 'experience' was closed, an apology notice pinned up alongside it. Dean snorted. If the 'experience' had anything to do with being eaten then he strongly doubted any visitor much minded the sudden change. Although it certainly gave a whole new meaning to taking the kids out to lunch.

Bending to unpick the lock, Dean couldn't help the smile of self-derision that slid across his face, almost shaking his head in disbelief. It was ironic really. Ever since he was a tiny kid he'd wanted to visit the zoo, had been promised a trip by their dad too until…that night. John seemed to forget the promise after that. For a while when he was eight, he thought he'd get another chance when the school he and Sam had temporarily been at had organised it as a field trip, only to find out the day before they went that John had a new case that needed them packed up and shipped out that same evening. Blowing his chances. Again.

Still, Dean had told himself as he'd pushed his disappointment back over and over, some things were just more important. He hardly thought that he'd get his chance all of two decades later. Who would have? But since they were there he was making damn sure he took in as much as he could. The aquarium included. He was no slouch, he'd read the brochure before they'd arrived, he'd seen the picture of the domed fish tank with the tunnel running through it, read about it's claims to be the biggest aquarium in the state. Demon or no demon, he was seeing it. If he was finally getting to visit a zoo, he was doing it properly.

The door gave way with an abrupt click, swinging open easily and allowing Dean through into the public gallery running the perimeter of the tiger pen. It was empty, the animals all sheltered away within the confines of indoor compartments which were going to need salting as well as everything else. Sighing, he took out the flick-knife he kept tucked in his jeans, slicing into the bag of salt and starting the long process of trailing a neat steady line around the enclosure. It didn't take long, not given his wealth of experience salting, and the same went for the locked door into the tiger house which was solved more with brute strength and the butt of his gun rather than patience and application. He could almost picture Sam rolling his eyes, but as long as it got him inside then he really didn't care.

He started off at the far end, picking his way carefully down the row of thick barred doors, tiptoeing despite himself and trying to ignore the wide-eyed orbs that stared out at him in the bright beam of the flashlight. Suddenly, he was less than keen to see the tigers and as one moved curiously towards the bars, rustling the straw under its paws and standing startlingly tall in the dark, Dean swallowed and tried to regain his customary bravado.

"Here kitty, kitty. Fresh meat," he whispered, knowing full well the tiger could not appreciate the sarcastic tone but the bite of dark humour strengthening his nerve. He suddenly regretted his earlier jibes about the mauling, suppressing a shudder. What a way to go.

Pushing aside his fears, Dean heaved the bag of salt onto it's side and started to slowly walk backwards, letting the fine grains cascade onto the floor, sweeping them along the concrete until they poured together to form a thick barrier.

"Get through this bitch."

It was the low grumble of a growl that first drew his attention, the salt trail going dry as Dean's pouring stopped dead, heart lurching as if it had been gripped hard by a fist.

That didn't sound good.

As he looked up slowly, one hand instinctively rounded to close fingers about the gun tucked into his waistband, the feeling of steel underneath his fingertips instantly comforting. If, and only if one of the tigers happened to suddenly be free – which it had no reason to be – then he was fairly confident one well-placed shot would be his best chance. But that was if one of them had gotten out of its pen, and there was no way –

Crap.

He stopped dead.

Standing right in front of him, crouched low, unnervingly still and continuing to grumble from the back of its throat in a noise not unlike the Impala, was a tiger. A big one.

"Holy – !"

They both moved at the same time, Dean stumbling backwards, flashlight pointing wildly at an unhelpful point on the ceiling as he instead grappled the gun free and attempted to aim it forwards.

He barely had time to position his finger around the trigger before the flash of orange was upon him with a scratch of sharp nails on concrete. Luckily for him however, years of hunting werewolves and wendigos had not been in vain and at the last minute he threw himself sideways, a gust of air whistling past his face as the tiger took a ferocious swipe, missing him by a hair's breadth.

Rolling backwards and rocking up onto his feet in a wary crouch, Dean again positioned the gun, bringing the wildly swinging flashlight up onto the big cat.

How in the hell had it gotten out? Surely the keepers hadn't been stupid enough to leave a cage door open, not so soon after one of them had been made into human cuisine. It had to be Diana, which meant she had to be somewhere near and probably loving every minute of his impending doom.

As the tiger spun towards him, pacing irritably, tail twitching like a whip behind it, Dean formulated a quick and by no means perfect plan that involved running for the door as fast as he could after somehow distracting the big thing trying to eat him.

Swallowing, he slowly inched out a hand, gripping the edge of the bag of salt and pulling it towards him whilst simultaneously juggling the gun and flashlight and trying not to spur the beast in front of him into an attack. The latter lasted all of about ten seconds. Abruptly and almost as if provoked, the tiger suddenly shot forward again, springing towards him with such speed and ferocity that Dean almost tumbled over backwards in anticipation.

Instead however, he did what years of experience had taught him; he fought back, bringing the gun up to connect with the tiger's skull before throwing a handful of salt into it's eyes. It fell away quickly, but not before snagging Dean's jacket and sinking claws into his forearms.

That was going to hurt in the morning.

As soon as it had reeled back however Dean took his chance, exploding up from the floor and pelting down the corridor towards the entrance, dragging the salt behind him.

It didn't take long to realise he wasn't going to make it and as he passed by the open door to the tiger's enclosure, he grabbed hold of it and ducked behind it like a shield, using the bars as a barrier on one side and the exterior wall of the building as the other. He was so close he could almost taste freedom. The only problem was the tiger could almost taste him, jabbing claws through the bars and catching his clothes as Dean desperately tried to think.

Damn demon. She had to be controlling the thing from somewhere. Somewhere close. In fact, Dean snorted wryly, she was probably just outside –

Sudden inspiration struck him.

If Diana was outside somewhere, controlling the beast through the walls, then there was one thing that would stop her. A barrier of salt, ironically the one thing in the entire zoo strong enough to block her out.

Crouching down as close as he could to the wall to avoid any repeated onslaught of claws in his tiny little sanctuary, Dean dipped his hand into the bag of salt and reached through the bars to the main door just inches from where he cowered. Gently, and without any sudden movements, he started to trickle his handful in a little line before the threshold, scooping more out as he drew a thick white mark along the floor.

Glancing up he could see the tiger starting to mellow, the pacing turning to more of a walk than a stalk, the demon's influence wearing off. One last assault at Dean's tiny safe corner – obviously as Diana realised she was being somehow shut out – and that was it, the tiger was bizarrely subdued even going so far as to sit down in the middle of the corridor and close its eyes. Obviously, when they'd been hand-reared they'd been pretty well tamed. Not that it made Dean any happier about pushing the cage door closed and stepping out into the open, breath most definitely held.

The tiger ignored him completely, leaving him free to scuttle out into the night again, stepping over his salt line and slamming the keeper's access door firmly shut behind him.

Thank God for the salt.

As he stood taking deep breaths, he returned the gun to his waistband and instead moved to grip the little flask of holy water tucked in his pocket. He already knew Diana was around and he wasn't taking any chances. Which also meant he needed to hurry up and get the rest of the big cats salted. He didn't exactly fancy round two.

Besides, he thought as he heaved the big bag of salt up into his arms like a hefty baby, Sam was wandering about on his own and if his little brother was anything then it was a walking demon target. If there was trouble about, Sam would find it.

And that was what worried him.


Not a lot of dialogue there, so I hope the descriptions made enough sense. Basically, Dean got attacked by a tiger but is okay!

As for the monkey, well next we're heading off to find Bobby – who's got problems of his own both four-legged and two-legged – and then it's off to the monkeys!

As ever thanks for letting me know what you think and please continue to (it's still snowing here by the way and the magic is most definitely starting to wear off! Still, gives me time to write I guess!)