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DISCLAIMER
Supernatural belongs to the WB, which will soon be the CW. This will have some aspects of the Pilot and Provenance episdoes. I got the information on black dogs from the Supernatural Gate site. I also made up some stuff. I also got the explanation of of an E.M.F. and ozone from the Supernatural site, you know the one with the car that you click on and you can look at all the cool stuff. Anyone or anything you don't recognize is mine.
"A---what?" Jessica wondered.
"A black dog. Basically, they're apparitions with red eyes, they can appear and disappear at will, usually seen on road ways or highways, they hate churches, if they find one, they try to mess it up, and usually are signs of death: yours or somebody else's, like a family member for example," Dean explained.
"But where do we even start? This legend is as wide spread as Bloody Mary. I mean, you have stories from Britain, Bungay, Germany...there's a dozen more," Sam pointed out.
"You're right. We'll just have to do a little research, see where the most sightings have been," Dean responded.
"Sounds good," Sam approved.
"Yeah, my little trusty geek boy can't wait to throw himself back into the hunt," Dean grinned. Sam reached out and hand smacked him on the head.
"Ow! Jerk," Dean muttered. Jessica laughed.
"All right. Let's go into town, see what we can find out," Sam said. With that, the three walked out of the hotel and headed for town, going into a local diner, where a woman was just opening up.
"Hi," Sam greeted. She turned around.
"Oh! Hi," she responded.
"Hi. Sorry. We didn't mean to startle you," Sam apologized.
"Oh, no. That's okay. Can I help you?" she queried.
"Well, if you know a good hotel---" Dean started to slyly suggest.
"He's kidding," Sam interrupted. "Actually, my brother, sister, and I just moved here and we heard some stuff that kinda made us nervous, and we hoping you could put our minds at ease," he continued. Jessica tried not to stare at how easily the lie had come out of her boyfriend's mouth.
"Yeah, sure. Come on in," the woman invited. "By the way, I'm Christy," she told them as they all walked in.
"I'm Sam. This is Dean and that's Jessica," Sam introduced them, pointing to each in turn.
"Welcome to Jericho," Christy stated.
"Thanks," Sam said.
"Now you said you heard things that had made you nervous?" Christy checked.
"Yeah," Sam answered.
"What kind of things?" Christy wondered.
"Well, we've heard that the death rate was pretty high, and---" Sam trailed off.
"Yeah. It's terrible. People are just being murdered on the Centennial Highway," Christy reported.
"How?" Dean wondered.
"Why?" Jessica added.
"Well, I'm not sure of the 'why', but I can tell you 'how'," Christy responded.
"What do you mean?" Dean questioned.
"Well, according to what I've heard, everyone who's died had deep scratches on their chests---almost as if they had been mauled by something," Christy stated confidentially.
"What would do that?" Dean asked.
"I honestly have no clue," Christy answered.
"What about the police? Do they have any leads?" Sam queried.
"No. They're as stumped as everybody else," Christy stated.
"Thanks for your help. Listen, can we get some breakfast sandwiches to go?" Jessica requested.
"Sure. Fancy anything in particular?" Christy asked.
"Well, now that you mention it---" Dean responded.
"Uh, ham and eggs for all of us," Sam interrupted again. The woman began the process of making the breakfasts and Sam and Dean headed out the door. Sam smacked Dean upside the head.
"Ow! Dude, what was that for?" the older brother hissed.
"Why do you always have to flirt with everything that can walk?" came the whispered question.
"What's the matter, Sammy? Ain't gettin' any?" Dean mocked. He was smacked again. "Dude, if you don't quit that, I'm gonna find a woman in white and feed you to it," came the admonishment.
"It wouldn't work, Dean. I'm not unfaithful and I've never been," Sam responded.
"Food's ready!" Jessica called. She walked up to them and handed out two of the wrappers as they walked out the door.
"You know, somethin' don't make sense," Dean stated.
"What do you mean?" Jessica asked.
"These deaths---according to Christy, every victim has been mauled. Now, granted, I haven't faced many black dogs, but that just ain't their m.o," Dean replied.
"What about St. Mary's Church in Bungay in 1577? According to reports, church members were attacked by a black dog in the middle of a storm," Sam reminded him.
"Oh, yeah. That's right. It pulled a Morrison and went psycho, clawin' and tearin' into everything," Dean recalled.
"Do you think your parents heard the same story?" Jessica queried.
"Without a doubt," Dean confirmed.
"But if they knew what it was, why is this thing still breathin' air?" Sam wondered.
"Yeah. Mom and Dad wouldn't just abandon a hunt," Dean mused.
"So, what do you suggest we do?" Sam asked. Dean's brow furrowed in thought as he chewed.
"We go to the Centennial and dig around," he finally answered. With that, they walked towards the highway.
"Dean, shouldn't we get an E.M.F.?" Sam asked.
"Not yet. Let's get some more info first," Dean replied.
"E.M.F.?" Jessica repeated.
"Electromagnetic Field Meter. It measures the rate of change in a magnetic field. We---Sam and I---also use them to detect signs of the supernatural. You know, ghosts, demons, poltergeists, stuff like that," Dean explained.
"Oh," Jessica said. Presently, they come up on the highway. Jessica stopped them.
"Wait. Look," she told them.
"Cops," Dean said.
"There must've been another murder," Sam noted.
"Yep," Dean responded. Without a word, each reached inside a pocket and clipped their i.d.'s to their shirts.
"Stay here," Sam told her.
"But---" Jessica began to protest.
"Stay here," Sam insisted. Jessica huffed, but did as she was told. Sam and Dean walked up to where the officers were talking over a mutilated body.
"What happened here?" Dean questioned.
"Who are you?" one of the officers asked.
"Federal marshals," Dean replied.
"Kinda young, ain't ya?" the officer asked.
"Thanks. You're too kind," Sam answered. "So...anyway, what happened here?" he continued.
"From the looks of it, he was drivin', and somethin' attacked him," the second officer responded.
"Can we see the body?" Sam requested. For an answer, the man lifted up the sheet.
"Yuck," Sam said.
"Now that's just gross," Dean commented.
"Certainly not a pretty sight," the officer agreed.
"Now, from what I understand, this isn't the first time something like this has happened," Sam said.
"No. There have been others," the officer confirmed.
"Do the victims have anything in common besides the fact that they all died right here?" Dean queried.
"No. It's like, they're all being picked at random. I'd say we definitely have a serial killler though," the officer answered.
"Well, that's just the kind of crack police work I'd expect from you," Dean said. Sam stifled a laugh. The officers turned to look at him.
"Um, sorry. I got somethin' stuck in my throat," the younger boy apologized.
"We'll be in touch," Dean promised. The two brothers quickly walked away.
"Dude, you can't act like that when we're working. I nearly blew our cover," Sam chided.
"Sorry, man. I just can't believe how inept some people can be," Dean replied.
"Yeah, I know," Sam agreed.
"Well?" Jessica asked.
"There was significant ozone comin' from the car," Dean replied.
"Ozone?" Jessica replied.
"Spirits leave a form of unstable gaseous oxygen from electric discharge or exposure to ultraviolet radiation, which we call ozone," Sam explained.
"The ability to smell the stuff differs from person to person, especially if you don't know what it is you're smellin'. However, most people can smell when it's about .015 ppmv," Dean added.
"So, what we do now?" Jessica wondered.
"Go back to the hotel and get a couple of guns," Dean replied.
"What?" Jessica asked.
"Hey, I ain't goin' up against a black dog without some rock salt," Dean responded. They headed back for the hotel.
"What did I get myself into?" Jessica muttered.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The line "It pulled a Morrison" isn't exactly related to Jimmy Morrison, although I was thinkin' of him when I wrote it. It was more of a general thing referencing the fact that some rock 'n' roll greats often trashed their hotel rooms. What do you guys think so far? Is it good enough to be turned into a series, or do you think I should stop once the fic's over?