PROMPT: A serial killer (who targets hitchhikers) picks up his next target on the side of a college campus in the 1970s, who unbeknownst to the driver, happens to be a serial killer who targets drivers that pick up hitchhikers.
A/n: This is set in a more modern setting.
This was written in 2018, and I'm procrastinating in editing it because I can't let my best friend have a fic-less birthday.
The light from the lamp posts made the asphalt gleam. Sam Winchester just left his dorm room to walk into the rain. His clothes were starting to cling onto his skin, by the time he walked up to the side of the road. He would've been laughed at if there were students around but, no one was a fool to come out in this storm. He noticed headlights coming close, and he raised his hand up trying to hide his excitement to hitchhike.
The radio was static occasionally a reporter would announce how terrible this storm was. The driver with a kazoo between his lips blew a happy tune. The wind wipers swiped away enough water for him to see a boy with his thumb up, needing some rescue from the rain. He pulled over and rolled down his window. "Sup, kiddo," he greeted with the instrument still between his lips, "Need a ride?"
"Can I really catch a ride?" Sam hugged himself, the cold was starting to seep into his bones.
"The weather's terrible. It'd be a sin to leave a college boy like you here. Hop in." He clicked the door locks open.
"Are you sure? I'm wet I could ruin your seating..." he trailed on, he didn't have to courage to ask for his potential victim's name.
"Gabriel," the man provided before he spat the kazoo to the seat next to him. "And it's alright, I'm not really sensitive about my car. It takes me places and that's about it. Besides, I have some extra clothes in the back from a cancelled camping trip so I don't really have to worry about you getting anything wet, if I actually cared. I'm just not sure if the clothes are gonna fit." He eyed the college kid, and well for starters he's built like a tree.
"Thanks Gabriel," Sam thanked, quickly seating himself in the back seat and the car moved forward, the view of his university vanishing in the distance. He found a bag of clean clothes and took off his wet clothes almost immediately. He even noticed the driver looking at the rear view mirror to take a peek.
"Where you off to kid?" the man asked him before glancing on the road again.
"Any where's good," he answered, trying on the clothes and the man was right they barely fit him, "And it's Sam."
"So... Sam? Did you really just decided to run away on a stormy day?" the driver chuckled turning to the corner of a street.
"Yeah, something like that. Pre-law's kinda stressful these time of the year," the hitchhiker replied.
The driver whistled, "Pre-law, wow. That's uh... That's really something- Ah fuck!" Gabriel had cursed as a motorcycle so kindly cut him off the road.
Sam took advantage of this provided distraction, and snooped around for a weapon. He was leaning close to his seat, feeling at the slightly damp carpeted floor of the car to look for a weapon. Like a wrench, a tire spanner, or maybe even a screwdriver. What he wasn't expecting however, was to find a samurai sword just under the seat in front of him. "Is this a katana?"
"Bokken," he corrected the boy, he wasn't really as distracted by the road hazard at all. It wasn't his first rodeo. Hitchhikers tend to snoop in his car. They can never be too careful after all, entering a stranger's car. "It's the one made of wood. It won't do much in the hands of an amateur." He says, barely containing the smugness in his reply. He found that his passenger turned out to be a bit paranoid, and he likes people who can entertain him. A pre-law? He almost feels too bad that the boy wouldn't become a full-blown lawyer.
The boy gripped the wooden sword's hilt tightly. It will have to do. He looked up and noticed that they had finally arrived to an open road. There's nothing but fields of corn surrounding them. It was a place with no cameras. It was a great place for murder. "Lucky for you, I played a bit of baseball with my brother," he said before hitting the back of the man's neck with the sword.
"Fuck," the driver slammed on his breaks and his car danced on the road. He barely made his car stop before he blacked out for a couple of seconds. He opened his eyes groaning at the blurry sight. He didn't need to see clearly to know that his car hit a couple of crops. There's something at the back of his neck that stings. Gabriel reached back and felt a sort of warm wetness between his fingers, stinging still apparent. He brought his hand up near to his face and saw that it was indeed blood. He quickly turned around to look at his passenger who left the back door open amidst his escape.
The boy clutched hard on the sword as he walked away from the scene of crime, with the rain pouring hard at the top his head. He heard the car door open, and turned around to look at the Samaritan who brought him this far. The light from the car's still open headlights were enough for him to see that the man is pissed.
"What the fuck was that? You could've killed me," the man complained massaging the back of his head letting the rain wash the blood off as he walked towards his car's trunk.
"I honestly thought I did," the hitchhiker scoffed, he can't believe he didn't hit this man hard enough.
"Is this what it is, Sam? You're some sort of serial killer?" He opened his trunk and took a suitcase.
"Well you know what they say, Gabriel. You should never trust a hitchhiker."
The driver chuckled, caressing the hard case he got specially bought for his weapon. He clicked the locks open, and pulled out his sword. He unsheathed it and faced his opponent. It was his turn to chuckle, "Did your parents ever told you not to hitchhike?"
Who would've thought that two serial killers found each other as a potential victim? The driver smirked as he moved forward. He knows he'll slay this pre-law kid easily but, he can never be too sure. He decided to converse, and watch his rider grip the handle of his wooden sword tighter. "I lost count on how many hitchhikers I've killed over the time," he tilted his head, "How about you?"
"I've killed nine people so far," Sam answered unfazed by the driver's advancement.
"Don't be so modest, kiddo," Gabriel replied, "I know you're lying."
The boy scoffed, "You're absolutely right, the count's about to go up because you're going to die tonight."
The driver smirked at his confidence. After all, the boy wasn't the one whose bleeding under this rain. He pointed his sword on the college kid, "If you survive tonight, which is unlikely… but yeah, if you survive tonight you can keep my prized kazoo."
The boy charged forward. His feet sinking into the mud, as they parried. Although he was lacking in sword yielding abilities. he made up for it by using his wits. When his weapon was cut in half he tackled the man to the ground using his fist to knock the sharp sword off his opponent's hand. With both weapons out of reach they both retreated in using of their fists. They fought until the rain had stopped pouring. They fought until the morning.
Soon enough, the sun found them there lying on the ground, panting, both bruised, both bleeding, and yet somehow they're both still alive.
Sam climbed on top of Gabriel, trapping the smaller, yet older man between his legs. "Just die already," he complained. His thick hands reached traced the man's neck and started choking him weakly. He had no strength left in him, he let go of the man to lie down next to him.
"Tired, kid?" the man chuckled, trying to stand up, "Wanna eat some breakfast? Pancakes or Waffles?"
The college kid looked at him, annoyed at his proposal. But the very thought of Pancakes slathered with a thick chunk butter, and sweet sweet maple syrup made his stomach churn. "Pancakes," Sammy muttered, pulling at the man's hand so he can stand. They both struggled but, they both got up slightly leaning against each other.
"I'm more of a waffles guy," Gabriel told him, and the rain started to fall once again. He noticed a car driving by and turned to his rider, as if they have some sort of understanding, some sort of deep connection. "So wanna hitch a ride to the diner?"
The boy couldn't help but smile, "You're trying to steal my gig, Gabe?"
"Nah, it's just you didn't get to kill me and I didn't get to kill you so..." he made elaborate hand gestures to finish his sentence for him. The car was closer and they can see clearly that there are two people inside that car. "Oh and look at that. There's two of them. You might need my help, Sammy."
The car stops in front of them. Sam didn't have the time to argue about what he liked to be called. Instead he says, "I call dibs on the driver," without wasting time, and his new acquaintance raised an eyebrow, "What? It's my thing? You like passengers more."
"Ugh, fine."
The car windows rolled down and loud music came out. The people inside seemed like lovely people. Based on their car and attire, they're either financially stable or financially in huge debt. The fact that they can't seem to keep their hands from each other means that they're either deeply in lust or grossly in love.
"What happened to you guys?" the woman asked them with concern.
"Oh honey, you wouldn't believe it."