Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. As for the ghost story: it did supposedly happen, similarly to how it's outlined in chapter one (I made minor alterations, and anything not mentioned in chapter one is my own addition). I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue, please – I still have to pay for college.

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Prologue: The Dare

San Antonio, Texas

"Okay, Mark," Kathleen Stanton said to her brother. "We've been leaving you alone, since it's your birthday, but you're the only one who hasn't had a turn yet. So – truth or dare?"

Mark sighed. He still couldn't believe his mother had made him invite his annoying little sister to his seventeenth birthday party, but she had nonetheless. And it was Kathy's fault they'd ended up playing Truth or Dare in the first place. Now it was starting to get late, and he was eager to end the game. He gave his sister a confident grin and replied, "Dare."

The boys all looked interestedly at Kathy as she grew thoughtful. This had to be the best dare yet – after all, it was his birthday. But Kathy, it seemed, had run out of ideas.

Trying not to appear too anxious, Mark waited for someone to suggest something. Finally, José offered, "I know! You've got your license – how about you drive down to the railroad tracks and see if the stories are true."

"That's all?" asked Mark, surprised. Where's the catch? he wondered. "They're just little kids, José."

"Ah, just go do it," José responded. Clearly, Mark wasn't the only one bored with the game. Ethan seconded the idea – "yeah, go, man!" – and soon a chorus of voices rose in agreement.

"Whatever," Mark said, going to get his keys. He wasn't going to fight this – he was getting off easy and he knew it.

So they got Mrs. Stanton's permission, piled into her minivan, and set off. In minutes, they arrived at their destination.

Mark edged the car onto the tracks nervously. These tracks have been abandoned for years, he thought to himself. There's no such thing as ghosts. And even if there were, these are nice ghosts. Nothing to worry about. Still, the idea sounded a lot less appealing out here in the growing darkness.

Willing himself to not be afraid, he shifted the car into neutral.

With Kathy in the passenger seat beside him and his friends in the back, all still and silent, he waited.

And the car began to move.

"Whoa!" José whispered, sounding awed. He turned to his best friend, the stunned teen in the driver's seat. "You didn't do that, didja?"

Wordlessly, Mark shook his head.

After a second or two of astonished silence, someone thought to look for the handprints, the sign of the ghosts' presence that, according to the story, would surely adorn the car. Skepticism turned to belief now, everyone rushed from the car. As Mark put the car in park, he heard gasps, muffled exclamations, and incredulous laughs of triumph.

Amazed once more, he turned the key in the ignition, cutting the engine swiftly, and then moved to get out. He had to see this with his own eyes.

What he saw, instead, was a woman. The bloodshot eyes peering out from her pale face bored into his own. He began to shake.

"You could have hurt someone," she stated simply. Mark sat speechless; he didn't know what to say, what to think.

But he knew to scream when her hand reached for him. His yell was cut off as she found his throat, and, by the time his confused and terrified companions reached him, he lay slumped over the steering wheel, glassy eyes staring at where the woman had been.