#5101 – Come on, last call. Hey, has anyone seen a black vapor-y mist? Don't got a name here but… oh, I see the problem. A bit of an obsessive-compulsive, huh? OK, fine, I'll play along.

#40 – Ah yes, there you are. No, you don't need to possess anyone here – it doesn't work that way anymore. Come on. Just tell everyone your story.

I have no name, age, or physical form. And, no Olly, I am not obsessive-compulsive! I just have a certain way in which I like things to be. It's a phantom thing.

My routine is this: I take hold of a human traveler (I prefer the beings who are filled with anxiety) and at precisely 40 minutes into the journey, I cause chaos and destruction. And I never leave any survivors! On this point, I am inflexible.

Since the advent of aviation, I have discovered that flying is far superior to any other form of transport. The feel of flying is a very tranquil thing for me, as I am accustomed to floating – being a free-moving shadow, and all. There are other benefits as well. There is always an array of yummy, anxiety-ridden beings waiting to board a flight. And, causing a plane to crash is rather easier than other methods of travel – and, there is much less risk of anyone actually surviving.

I have never before failed in my task. Everything had always gone as smooth as Boomslang venom. And I… well, I suppose I got a little careless. Or, maybe just over-confident. I was using a body fat with fear. I decided to put a bit of artistic flare into my pandemonium, and I wrenched the boarding hatch open!

It wasn't until later when I discovered my failure. Seven humans (seven!) had survived. Well, needless to say, I was quite depressed. But, I am a professional. I decided that I had never floated away from an undertaking before and I was not about to start!

The pilot was easy. The fool had decided to try and fly once more. He was frightened, certainly – deliciously. He was quite simple to possess. And, once we were in the small craft, I waited the appropriate 40 minutes, elbowed the pilot's friend in the nose, and took the plane down. And, I must say that I felt better – I was closer to accomplishing my original goal, and I took out another human in the process.

However, I soon found that the rest of the survivors were going to be problematic. You see, each of them had sworn off flying ever again. And, to make matters worse, they all believed that they were safe while on the ground – hence, no anxiety, no possession.

Just when I was about to give up, I found that the last survivor, a flight attendant by the name of Amanda, had also decided to 'get back on the plane' (it's an expression of mine which means to try once more after failing – humans have a similar phrase about a horse).

I had assumed that the girl would be nervous, but she seemed to be in unfortunately good spirits. I had to act fast – I was running out of time. I finally found a most unlikely candidate and grabbed hold.

Once on the flight, I passed a human just oozing panic. Oh, if only I had found him earlier! But, I forced myself to pass – I was not making any more mistakes. Then, out of nowhere, this ridiculous being says… well, he says the C-word. To me! The Latin C-word!

I couldn't believe my ears (well, the co-pilot's ears). Without meaning to, I flinched. When I turned to face this hideous creature, he looked at me with knowing eyes. That's when I realized that he was one of them. He was a Winchester!

Well, I would not be put off! I locked myself in the cockpit, determined to finish what I started.

We still had nearly 30 minutes to go when Amanda knocked on the door and asked if I could follow her to the rear of the plane. Looking back, I should have known something was wrong, but for some reason I could not say no to Amanda. Something inside me told me to stay close to her – I had never felt such a thing before and attributed it to her being my most challenging quarry to date.

I followed, my insides all aquiver with anticipation. But just as we reached the velvet curtain, I was grabbed roughly and thrown to the ground. I was bound, gagged, and doused with fiery holy water. It was him again, and this time there was another Winchester with him.

The first one held me down while the other began reading Latin at me from an old leather-bound book. Of course, they underestimated my strength and I was able break free of the adhesive strips that they used to subdue me. Needless to say, I was livid. Once I knocked them each away and tore the tape from my mouth, I calmed myself by tormenting one of the brothers with my knowledge of his girlfriend's death.

However, I also underestimated the brothers. While my attention was taken with one, the other regained his footing and pinned me to the floor once again, yelling at his brother to finish with the ritual. With my last bit of strength, I was able to knock the book from the Winchester, but it was too late. He had finished his rite and I was expelled from the human I had inhabited.

I next did the first thing I could think of – I surged into the plane itself and caused it to plummet. I was so set on my task, congratulating myself for the victory, that I didn't notice the Winchesters were not finished. They used some other magic in their arsenal and the plane was struck with such a force that I was banished.

And now, here I am. Just one more mark, another nameless casualty, in the Winchester scorebook.