A/N: This letter is in two parts and decided to post the first part a day early and the second part will be posted tomorrow. I hope you like this creature I found and the hunt. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do like to know your thoughts. NC
D
Part I
Dean rolled over and saw light streaming into the window of the bedroom he shared with his brother when they were at Bobby Singer's home. He was like a surrogate father to them, had been since the death of their own father five years ago. He was a constant in their lives when they needed him and mentor and fellow hunter. Dean looked to the other twin bed and saw it was empty of his little brother. He figured Sam couldn't sleep and was downstairs researching.
Ever since Death had put Sam's soul back in his body and put up a wall to keep the memories of Hell from leaking through and driving him insane, Sam had been having bad dreams, sometimes nightmares that didn't allow him to get much sleep. Dean could see it in his eyes at times when something would trigger a fleeting memory of the year he had been without a soul. He couldn't remember what he had done during that time, and it made him distraught and depressed.
Dean begged him not the 'scratch the itch' as Death put it because it could cause the wall to come down. Sam couldn't stand not knowing what he had done during that time and the people he might have hurt, but he tried to do as Dean asked and not dwell on it. Sometimes it made for sleepless nights for Sam, but he took it all in stride.
After a shower, Dean headed to the kitchen to find Sam sitting at the table concentrating on his laptop screen, not even realizing Dean walked in.
"Hey, how long you been up?" Dean asked going to the coffee pot for his first cup of the day.
Sam startled for a second before hiding it. "Couldn't sleep," he mumbled not wanting to tell him the real reason.
Dean knew he wasn't telling him something but didn't press him about it. "Where's Bobby?"
"Parts run. Should be back this afternoon."
"What are you doing?" Dean asked since Sam hadn't taken his eyes off his computer screen.
"Nothing," Sam said quickly closing the laptop before Dean could see it. He couldn't hide the guilty look on his face as he looked down at his clenched hands resting on the top of the laptop.
"Sammy, you have to stop it," Dean sighed knowing exactly what he had been doing. "You know all that's in the past now; you need to let it be. What have I told you?"
Sam didn't say anything as he pinched his lips into a thin line knowing Dean was right, but it just didn't feel right to him. From what he had found out, he had been almost like a robot when he had no soul. He was goal oriented and didn't care what he had to do to get the job done. He had no conscious and didn't care that he hurt others. Once they found out what was wrong with him, Dean had tried to keep him on the right path and not let him stray. It was hard since there were no true feelings for Dean as a brother during that time.
"I know," Sam whispered not able to look him in the eye.
"Why don't we head into town and grab some breakfast and get some supplies? Bobby's running a little short since we've been here nearly a week."
"Alright, let me go to the bathroom," Sam replied. He pushed his chair back and headed for the stairs taking his laptop with him. He didn't want Dean to check it to see what he had been looking at.
Dean watched his brother leave and it didn't get by him he took his laptop with him. He didn't know what to do to make Sam see that he couldn't keep doing this. He wasn't sure how strong the wall that Death had built was and he didn't want Sam tearing it down and all those memories to come pouring out into his mind. He wasn't sure his brother would be able to handle them. He had spent nearly two centuries trapped in the cage with Lucifer and Michael who were pissed and took all their anger out on him, torturing him relentlessly. He knew what that was like since he had spent forty years in Hell being tortured by demons. He stowed away his own memories and thoughts when he heard Sam clomping back down to steps.
"I'm ready," Sam called to him as he put on his jacket and waited at the door.
Dean picked up his jacket off the couch and got it on and headed out the door with Sam following. He didn't try to make conversation with him because he knew it wouldn't do any good. He drove into town and to the diner so they could have breakfast before shopping.
"Besides looking for Eve, have you found anything that might be a hunt?" Dean asked after ordering and being sure no one was listening to them.
"Maybe, I need to look into it a little more first," Sam replied sipping on his coffee while they waited for their food.
"Good, we can at least continue hunting until something turns up on the bitch."
"Yeah, I'll know if it's our thing by this afternoon, and we can make plans to check it out."
"Here you go," the waitress said. She placed plates at each brother and refilled their coffee, questioning if they needed anything else before going to check on another table.
"God bless whoever gave us bacon," Dean hummed as he bit off a huge chunk.
"That will clot your arteries for an early death," Sam added as he cut a bite of pancakes.
"You don't know what's good Sammy."
They finished their breakfast and headed to the store to restock for Bobby before heading back to the salvage yard. Dean put the food away and let Sam finish his research, so he'd know if they had a case. He had been in one place long enough and needed to get back out there. He did their laundry and by the time lunch rolled around, Sam was certain what he had found was a case for them. He happily got out the makings for sandwiches for lunch and was already planning for them to head out after they ate. He would text Bobby they were leaving and not sure when they would be back his way.
spn
The traffic was moving at a steady pace on Interstate 90. Dean was going to pick up Highway 83 to head south for Perryton, Texas. Sam had found articles about strange deaths and people seeming to go insane for no apparent reason. The bodies of the victims had been eaten and the blood drained from them. The locals had no suspects for the killings yet. It was going to be about a nineteen-hour drive, so he was going to stop somewhere along the way for the night.
The steady humming of the tires and the gentle sway of the car had Sam fighting to stay awake. Since he didn't have a restful sleep the night before, it wasn't long before he was nodding off and jerking himself awake after only a few minutes. Dean looked over at him as he flayed suddenly and looked around before settling again. He watched Sam's eyes shut again and gently pushed him sideways, so he was leaning against the side window, snoring softly.
"Hey Sammy, stopping for gas; you need to use the restroom or get something to drink?" Dean asked after giving Sam's leg a shake to wake him.
"I'm 'wake…" he grunted as he shifted in his seat to sit up and look around. Sam shook himself awake and wiped his face as Dean slowed to exit off the highway. It took him a moment before he was able to see clearly as the snippets of a dream still lingered in his head.
"You think you can drive a few hours?" Dean asked as he pulled into the truck stop.
"Yeah, I can do that," Sam nodded thinking some caffeine might be a good idea to keep him going. He waited for Dean to stop at the pumps before getting out and heading inside. He looked for the sign for the restrooms and headed that way first.
Dean filled the Impala and moved her to the side so he could go inside and use the restroom and get something to drink. He saw Sam getting a coffee and granola bars while he made his way to the restroom. After finishing up, Dean went to the cooler section and picked a drink and grabbed a bag of beef jerky before heading for the cashier. He went out and found Sam leaning against the car waiting on him. Dean tossed the keys his way and went around to the passenger side to get in.
Sam dropped into the driver's seat and got comfortable before cranking her and pulling out of the lot and heading back to the interstate. He sipped on the coffee and opened the bars to eat them once he settled in a lane behind another vehicle that he could keep pace with. He found some music to his liking since he was driving and got to pick what they listened to this time. Dean grunted his dislike but didn't say anything since he was the one who set the rule.
Sam drove longer since Dean dozed off and didn't want to wake him. When he saw they were going to need gas again, he woke him to see if he wanted to go ahead and stop.
"Bro, wake up," Sam called to him shaking his arm.
Dean jerked awake instantly and was ready to fight. He realized where he was and let his body relax and looked around.
"We're going to need gas again soon; do you want to stop?" Sam asked.
"How long have you been driving?"
"Almost five hours. You went to sleep, and I was okay to drive."
"Where are we?"
"On 83 in Nebraska."
Dean pictured the states in his mind and checked his watch before looking at the gas gauge. "Yeah, might as well find an exit that has gas, food and a motel."
"Alright, I'll start checking the signs."
Dean settled down awake now and looked at the signs too wanting to help find an exit. He glanced sideways at Sam and could tell he was tired, but not exhausted which was good. He would have kicked his ass if he drove his Baby in an unsafe condition.
They saw the sign at the same time and Sam moved over into the right lane so he could exit the highway. They would get a motel, turn in early and get an early start in the morning. Since Sam had driven longer than Dean expected, he figured they would be to Perryton, Texas by mid-afternoon the following day. That would give them time to get a room and go visit the locals and hopefully the morgue to see what they could find out.
spn
Dean drove through the town which was like so many they had visited to check a case out. He found the police station outside the business district and saw signs for the hospital four miles away. Once he got his bearings, he headed for a quaint motel a few miles away to get a room.
Sam studied the people they drove by, and the type of businesses that seemed the most popular knowing gossip spread quicker in the local hangouts. He got out at the motel and went in to get them a room for a few days. He came back out and motioned Dean around the side of the building to a room on the first floor.
Dean parked in front of the room and went to the trunk to get his duffle and the suit bag with their FBI suits in it. He hated playing dress up, but they had to look the part to gather the information needed for the case. He waited for Sam to get his bag before closing the trunk and going to their room.
Sam opened the door and let Dean go in first to check it out and followed him inside. It was decorated in soft colors with a western theme. At least it was better than some they had stayed at over the years growing up. He shuttered to think about some of the dirty, rundown, barely livable rooms their Dad had dumped them when he took off on a hunt. At least now they could choose their own places and tried to keep it cheap, but clean and small.
"Let's get changed so we can go see the locals and hopefully get to the morgue and see the bodies," Dean told him dropping his bags on the bed nearest the door. He unzipped the suit bag and pulled out the suits and shirts, picking his out and laying Sam's on his bed. "Dibs on bathroom first."
"Yeah, go ahead," Sam said with a wave of his hand. He opened his duffle to dig around for different shoes to go with the suit. At least the suit was clean, and he had replaced his shirt and tie since they were getting worn. He sent Bobby a text that they had arrived and were going to check with the local cops.
Sam knew Bobby was worried about him even thought he was still wary around him since he did try to kill him to keep his soul from being put back in his body. It was something he'd rather not have known but tricked Castiel into telling him what he did when he was soulless. He sat on the bed and waited his turn trying to ignore the beginnings of an annoying tiny itch in his head that wouldn't go away. Some days it was worse than others, but he tried to keep it from Dean.
"Your turn Samantha; don't take all day," Dean said.
"Funny," Sam grunted grabbing his clothes and heading into the bathroom.
Dean found his other shoes and slipped them on. He checked his gun before settling it in the small of his back and made sure he had a couple of knives and paperclips. They had learned from experience it was best to go in prepared since neither knew what might happen.
When Sam finally came out, Dean put on his suit jacket and handed him his fake FBI credentials. Once Sam armed himself, they left for the police station. The drive over didn't take long since the traffic was still light. Dean found visitor parking and pulled the Impala into an empty spot. They got out and straightened their jackets and ties before heading for the front doors.
A middle-aged woman dressed in a uniform, sat at a desk in the front and looked up as they walked in. She looked them over before speaking. "May I help you?"
"Agents Shaw and Wilson, FBI. We'd like to speak with the person in charge of the recent deaths you've had around here," Dean spoke as he pulled his badge out and showed her.
She looked at the two badges presented before her and then at their faces. "If you'll have a seat, I'll get someone to help you." She waited until they sat before disappearing to the back through a door that must have led to the offices.
Sam looked around and saw chairs against a wall and nodded to Dean. They went over and sat down to wait on whoever was going to talk to them. Sam let his eyes wander around taking in the wanted posters that filled a case on one wall. He looked to a bulletin board where events for the community were posted. They looked back toward the desk when the woman came back with a man that didn't look like a cop, dressed in a slightly rumbled suit. He reminded Sam of their father in his stoic, hard to read face and body language. This was someone that you didn't want as your enemy, he was sure of that.
The brothers stood when the man approached them.
"Hello, I'm Detective Savich, how can I help you?" the older man asked.
"Detective, I'm Agent Shaw and this is my partner Agent Wilson." Dean introduced them. "We're here to look into the recent murders and strange happenings with the townsfolk."
"I don't remember contacting the FBI about the cases," Savich commented.
"We just go where our bosses tell us sir. He doesn't like his orders questioned."
"I see," he said looking at the two agents for a moment before continuing. "Guess it wouldn't hurt to have extra eyes on the case, come with me."
Dean and Sam followed Detective Savich through the door behind the front desk and down a hall to a larger room that had desks scattered about and offices on the side. He stepped into an office and they joined, taking seats he motioned to.
"What can you tell us about the victims Detective?" Sam asked once they were seated. He took out a pad to take notes.
"We've found four bodies so far, and I have to say this is not your typical serial killer or any killer that I've seen," he said sitting back in his chair. "The medical examiner tells me all the blood was drained from their bodies and…" He stopped almost like he was afraid to say the rest.
"Go on," Sam urged.
"He says it looked like someone took chunks out of them. Not with a weapon but tore chunks from them with their teeth." Savich paused to watch the reaction between the two agents and frowned slightly when he saw a look pass between the pair. He was sure they knew more than they were telling and planned to get to the bottom of this.
"We'd like to see the bodies," Dean stated, his expression remaining neutral.
"They're at the morgue at the hospital."
"Could we get a copy of your reports on the victims so we can look them over please?" Sam asked trying to be polite.
"Of course," Savich agreed picking up his phone and speaking quietly into it before turning back to the agents. "You will keep me in the loop if you find out anything, correct?"
"Yes. Did you find any links to the victims?" Dean asked.
"And what about the ones that seemed to go insane? Did they visit any of the same places? Knew any of the same people? Did they know any of the ones that were killed?" Sam questioned.
"No more than usual. This isn't that big of a town, but there never was any definite connections but that a couple used to work for a man, Stuart Wynn, several years ago until he died. But that was before my time as detective here. Susie at the front will have those files for you. Nice to meet you," he said ending their conversation.
"Thank you Detective Savich. We'll be in touch if we find anything out," Dean said. He shook his hand feeling a strong, hard grip that was held longer than needed. He saw something in the man's eyes that told him they needed to be careful around him.
"Detective," Sam nodded as he got up to follow Dean from the room.
Susie was waiting on them at the front desk and gave Sam a flash drive with the open murder cases and the unexplained insanity of the other people. They thanked her and left wanting to get to the morgue so they could call it a day and go over what they had. Dean was hoping they could spot something the locals missed and it would point them to the monster that was doing this.
They didn't have that far to drive to the hospital and Dean headed around to the back where bodies were brought in instead of going through the hospital to get to the morgue. He found a place to park and got out to head inside with Sam close behind him.
The coldness hit them as soon as they opened to door marked morgue and Sam shivered once as he prepared himself for the visit. They pushed through a set of double doors and found the autopsy room that was even colder. There were three desks along one wall with three stainless steel tables positioned in the middle of the room. Each table was polished and tilted slightly to allow water to run off and into the drain in the floor at the end of each one. There were lines running across the ceiling and hanging down at each table to allow the body to be washed before the autopsy would be performed. At the back wall were a dozen small doors that were storage for the bodies.
"May I help you?" an older man asked. He stepped from a storage room and had several boxes of gloves in his hands that he placed at the examination table.
"We're with the FBI and are helping out on the murder cases you've had recently," Dean explained pulling out his badge to flash at the coroner.
"I see, I suppose you'll want copies of my findings too?"
"Yes, please. That would be great."
"I'll show you the bodies and while you're looking at them, I get those reports ready."
He led them across the room and opened a door and pulled out the tray from inside showing a body draped in a white sheet. When he had four out, he stepped back allowing them access. They grabbed gloves and slipped them on before examining the bodies.
"Hope you've got a strong stomach," he commented before walking away.
Dean moved to the first one and pulled the sheet down revealing a male body, at least what was left of it. The skin was pale and as he pulled the sheet lower, they could see huge sections of flesh had be bitten off. Sam pulled out his cell and snapped photos of the bite marks. One arm had been stripped of all the meat leaving only the bone and small clumps of flesh. His chest was ripped open and it looked like his organs were torn from it. What flesh still clinging to the bones was sickly, pale looking with ragged, frayed edges that no weapon could have made.
He moved to another and found about the same thing, though more of the flesh was missing along the thighs and abdomen region. One section looked like claw marks racked down the center of the man's body splitting it open. Dean pointed it out and had Sam take more photos. He had seen enough death in his time, but this was brutal, vicious, cruel and ruthless. It was a savage attack. They looked at the other two bodies and took photos before returning them to the cubicles and closing the doors. They snapped off the gloves and both were in a somber mood when the coroner came back.
"Here you go gentlemen. I hope you catch this monster before he can strike again," the coroner told them giving them a file folder with his autopsy reports on the bodies.
"Thank you for your help and we do too," Sam replied taking the folder.
spn
Dean bit into his cheeseburger as he read the autopsy reports not finding much difference in each of the reports. He was sure it was the same monster that had killed all four victims. They just needed to find out what it was and kill it.
"You find anything over there Sammy?"
Sam looked up from reading the screen on his laptop and blanked out for a moment before blinking quickly and replying.
"Remember Savich said several of the victims used to work for the same employer, a Stuart Wynn?"
"Yeah, did you find something else?"
"The other two had connections to him too. One was a bartender at a bar that Wynn frequented, and another worked at a dry cleaners he used. I did some checking on this Wynn guy and he wasn't a very nice person. He was a slave driver to his employees and accused everyone of cheating him. He was a greedy man, and no one was upset when he died."
"How did he die?"
"Heart attack. He was too stingy to have regular checkups. Thought all doctors were quacks and never took care of himself from what I can find."
"I would say he's a vengeful spirit, but they don't usually eat their victims."
"I agree."
"Should we salt and burn his body anyway?"
"It says he was entombed in a mausoleum in the town cemetery, but I don't think it would do any good. This is something else entirely. What if it's one of Eve's creations or maybe some monster we've never seen before that has woken up. I think we should do a little more research tonight and go check out the cemetery tomorrow."
"Go for it geek boy, I need a shower." Dean threw away his trash and grabbed sleep clothes from his duffle before strolling into the bathroom.
Sam huffed softly and went back to reading the information on the screen as he searched for more information. He started building a search program with key words to see what it would pull up and hoped he would get lucky. Sam rubbed his tired, burning eyes deciding to take a short break while his program ran. He scribbled a short note, 'gone for walk' before grabbing his jacket and the key for the room and heading outside to get some fresh air.
There was a cool breeze blowing through the parking lot as Sam stepped from the walkway and strolled across the parking lot. He hunched in his jacket and buttoned a couple of buttons to stay warmer. It was dark outside and the lights from the businesses shone brightly around him. He walked toward the convenience store that was farther down the street to grab some Gatorades and a snack. His mind was still working as he pictured the ravaged bodies lying in the morgue while he sorted through the monsters that he thought fit the bill, but always ran into a snag that made them not fit the profile. He was still mulling over things when he pushed open the door and went in heading for the coolers to get drinks.
He was leaning over trying to find the flavor he liked when he heard the bell buzz that someone else had come in the store. Sam froze when he heard a loud voice and then a frightened voice. He snuck around the rack of treats and saw a guy with a gun demanding the money from the cashier. He didn't hesitate when he made his move.
"Drop!" Sam yelled to the cashier as he threw a bottle of Gatorade at the robber hitting him in the back of the head. The robber fell and the gun went off missing the cashier by inches as he dove behind the counter. Sam was on the guy and disarmed him, pinning his arm behind his back. "Call the cops," he ordered the scared cashier who peeked out from behind the counter.
The cashier pulled out his cell and dialed 911 and reported the attempted robbery. "Hey thanks man," he told Sam.
"Do you have some rope or duct tape?"
"Yeah, hold on," he replied. The cashier dug around and handed a roll of duct tape to him.
Sam wrapped the tape around the guys wrists and ankles before standing back up. He took the gun and removed the clip and ejected the bullet in the chamber before laying both on the counter. "If you'll check me out, you can handle this until the cops get here." He grabbed his Gatorades and candies laying them on the counter.
"Hey man, after what you did…Take it. Don't you want to stay around and tell the cops what happened?"
"No, that's fine, you can do that. Thanks," Sam said. He took the bag and quickly left not wanting to be there when the cops showed up. He walked quickly back to the motel and turned into the parking lot when a cop car raced by with its sirens blaring.
"Hey, what's with the cops?" Dean asked when he stepped inside the room.
"Convenience store was robbed," Sam shrugged sitting the bag down and tossing Dean a small bag of peanut M&Ms.
"What did you do?" Dean questioned cautiously.
"Hit him in the head with a bottle of Gatorade," Sam mumbled innocently with a shrug of his shoulders.
"That's my boy!"
"Wasn't a big deal," Sam grunted sitting back down at the laptop to see if it came up with anything. There were numerous results, but he didn't feel like reading any more tonight after his run in with the robber. He saved the material deciding to review it in the morning. He was tired from the drive and his adrenaline rush that was wearing off. "I'm going to get ready for bed."
"You okay Sammy?"
"Yeah, just a little tired."
Dean didn't say anything else as he watched Sam close the door of the bathroom ending the conversation. He didn't think that was all of it but was going to let it drop. He went back to watching the television thinking he would turn in soon too.
spn
