Cell phone in one hand acting as a flashlight, canister of salt in the other, Claire prowls around the modern subdivision, looking for signs of a 1700s graveyard. She had been wandering around, skulking outside each of the houses where the attacks took place, for almost ninety minutes and so far, everything is disappointingly contemporary. Her next stop is a playground that had been put in in an attempt to attract young families to the area. The miniature park is a study in suburban landscaping with fresh green grass that was put in professionally and a row of young trees all perfectly spaced. The children's monkey bars and swing set are all shiny and new and there isn't a tombstone in site.

The only thing around that looks like it's more than a year old, is a large gnarled oak tree near the centre of the little park. Something clicks in her brain, and she realizes that she recognizes the old tree. One of the old news articles she looked at had a picture of the church that got torn down and this tree had been growing right up against the side of it. She makes her way over to it, boots squelching in the damp grass but as she draws closer when she hears a growling noise behind her and a chill comes over her that is only partly from fear.

She turns around slowly, the canister of salt gripped tightly in front of her and sharp bark comes from the thing in front of her. It's a dog alright. Its big, but not unnaturally so, and its fur is black and matted, but is doesn't have glowing red eyes or anything. It would look like a completely normal stray dog if not for one important feature: it's translucent.

Before she has time to examine it any further, the ghost dog charges toward her and leaps at her throat. Just as its jaws are about to reach her, Claire swipes the salt canister through the air in front of her, and the dog disappears. She stands in place for a few seconds, her body still but her mind moving a mile a minute. Clearly, she was right, and this is a real case. Though it seems to be a ghost and not a curse, so she was wrong about that part. Can animals even be ghosts? And how long after you dissipate a ghost does it take to come back? Claire assumes that the fact that it appeared when she was going to investigate the tree must be significant. She should go back to what she was doing, but what if it comes up behind her while she's looking around. Right now, she can certainly see the advantages to the Winchesters working as a pair, it would make things a lot easier to have someone watching her back.

With no other choice, she finally makes it to the tree and runs her fingers along its bark as she walks in a circle around it. As far as she can tell, its just a tree, though an old one. Then she notices a small plaque placed in the earth at the base of the trunk and bends over to read it.

This Northern Red Oak was planted over 200 years ago by the citizens of Sioux Falls to celebrate the opening of the then new First Anglican Church. For centuries it stood guard over the church and its attached cemetery. The Sioux Falls Parks Council has chosen to preserve this historic tree for the enjoyment of future generations.

As she crouches over the sign, reading by the light of her cell phone, Claire once more hears an ominous growling coming from behind her. She scrambles to her feet reaching for the salt when a gun shot rings out through the night. She turns around to find Dean toting a sawed-off shotgun and walking towards her across the park.

"Dean? What are you doing here?"

"I got worried."

"It's a six-hour drive."

"I left right after we finished talking. I may have sped a little."

Well, so much for his great wisdom about not attracting attention by breaking traffic laws. "So, you drove all the way out here because you were worried? You know it's not your job to watch out for me anymore."

"I'm not here because I think it's my job. And I'm not here because I think you aren't capable. I'm here because you're my friend and you're still really new at this, and I thought you might need someone to watch your back. Besides, I've driven a lot further for a case than six hours."

Claire supposes she can't really be mad at him considering she was just thinking pretty much the same thing. "So, that was a ghost huh?"

"I guess. I've never actually seen the ghost of a dog before."

"Really? I thought you were supposed to be the expert."

"Just one more thing to love about this job, Claire. It never stops surprising you with new and freaky monsters that want to kill you."

"Great. Well, I think it's trying to protect this tree or something."

"Yeah?"

"It first attacked when I started to get close to it. Apparently, it was planted at the same time the church was first built."

"And there used to be a graveyard here right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"This is starting to sound sort of familiar. I think maybe I've read about something like this before."

"So how do we get rid of it?"

"I don't know. I've read a lot of things over the years, its hard to remember the ones I haven't actually encountered." Dean paces around frustratedly, scanning the darkness with his shotgun held high gripped firmly in front of him.

"Alright, hold on." Claire pulls her cell back out of her jacket pocket.

"What, do you have an expert on ghost dogs on speed dial?"

"No, I have a data plan."

He raises his eyebrow skeptically but continues to stand in front of her, weapon raised protectively, as she taps "Church + graveyard + dog" into her search engine. She quickly skims over some information on this weird occult and is only jolted out of it by the sound of another shotgun blast.

"Claire, we aren't going to have much longer before the police show up. Are you finding anything?"

"Yes. Apparently, there's something called a Church Grim. It used to be the custom for people to bury a black dog at any new graveyard, before any people were actually buried there. The spirit of the dog was supposed to act as some kind of guardian and scare off anyone who tried to desecrate the church grounds."

"That sounds like it could be our friend here alright. Tearing down the church and building a bunch of ugly-ass townhouses certainly sounds like desecration. Is the all-knowing internet giving you any other useful information?"

"No, not really."

"Well, a normal ghost we would salt and burn, but that's not going to be easy here."

"Why?"

"No headstone. No coffin to contain the body and keep it together. If we're right and fido was buried under the tree, then its bones are going to be all tangled up in its roots. We might never find them all."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Retreat."

"What?"

"We don't know what we're doing out here, and those gunshots probably have the cops on their way; we can't do anything more tonight. Besides, so far, the spirit hasn't really hurt anyone much, right? So really the only people in any immediate danger are us."

"So we just walk away?"

"Just until we can figure out how to solve this. I don't like this anymore than you do Claire, but I'm not seeing a lot of other options."

Claire takes one last glance behind her at the as the two of them make their way back to where Dean parked the Impala. She's not sure whether or not she imagines the eyes looking back at her.