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Chapter 6
-oOo-
Dean watched while the manager swallowed half the generous amount of whisky he had poured for himself. Dean's instincts were screaming at him that here was a good man who was facing something on the wrong side of normal, something the guy couldn't do anything about, but maybe he and Sam could?
"It's not just the hotel my friend. Visitor numbers all around here have declined; the whole township is suffering because there's true evil here. For over a year now, there's been a merciless serial killer living amongst us and the sheriff's department are no closer to apprehending him than they were when the first murder occurred."
Dean's hopes for a possible case sank. No matter how prolific, a serial killer wasn't a job for them, though having pushed the guy to talk, he wasn't going to stop him now.
"What numbers are we talkin'?"
"Believe it or not, nine murders so far. And Dean, I'm not exaggerating when I say that the way those poor people died? Well, it's horrific at best."
Surprised by the number of deaths, Dean's eyes widened.
"Nine? But no clues?"
"I know. Appalling, isn't it? And what's even worse is that the police, Hell all of us, know when it will happen if there's going to be another death; but knowing doesn't help to stop it."
Dean frowned, his spider sense starting to tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.
"Go on then, I'm curious, when is there possibility gonna be another murder an' how can you tell?"
The manager's voice held a tone of certainty.
"This coming Sunday, Monday or Tuesday."
At that moment, in Dean's mind, the problem became exactly the type of job he and Sam should take on.
"Right when there's a full moon due. Is that the pattern?"
The manager tensed, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes.
"How...?"
Dean shrugged.
"Astronomy. It's a hobby; satisfies my inner geek. You mind tellin' me how the vics died?"
There was a moment's hesitation during which the manager looked Dean in the eyes, deciding whether or not to trust the younger man then, with a nod, he accepted Dean's explanation. Dean noticed the man unintentionally shuddered before he answered Dean's question.
Sam woke to the sound of his phone alarm. Turning it off he laid a while enjoying the comfort of a proper bed and the knowledge that there was no rush to vacate the room and hit the road. The day stretched ahead with nothing to do but relax and take some recovery time from the last job. He'd set his alarm to give himself plenty of time to have an unhurried shower and go for a run in the hotel grounds before breakfast. The thought of a shower had him easing himself out of bed. Humming quietly to himself he grabbed what he needed and headed for the bathroom, pausing briefly on route to confirm the presence of his brother by the sound of Dean's soft snoring drifting up from below the mezzanine level.
Finally emerging from the bathroom feeling clean and refreshed and carrying his running shoes, he silently made his way barefoot down to the lower area to make himself a coffee. Looking to where Dean was sleeping, Sam grinned and paused to extract his phone from his jogger pocket. Switching it to camera mode, Sam pointed it at the older Hunter, stalling in his intent when, with his eyes still closed, Dean's voice growled,
"Don't do it baby brother. Payback will definitely leave you hurtin'."
Sam hurriedly hid his phone as Dean, lying on his back, naked, on top of the bedclothes with his feet on his pillow and his head at the foot of his bed, opened one eye to peer at his upside-down brother. Sam gave him a look of wide eyed innocence.
"Do what?"
"Sammy, hands off your phone an' get the coffee rollin'."
"I'll make coffee if you cover up. I'm already off sausage for life."
"There speaks the voice of a jealous man."
Laughing, Sam headed for the drinks tray while Dean rolled over and began checking the floor around the bed for his denims, giving Sam his news while pulling them on.
"After you wimped out an' went to bed last night I got talkin' to Phil..."
"Phil?"
"The manager? Anyway, I got us our next hunt. A werewolf. Been snackin' on people round about for over a..."
"Please, tell me you're kiddin'?"
"…Year...Um, no. I'm totally serious. The locals an' the cops think they've got a human serial killer workin' the area, but Sam, the way the vics died? An' the timin's? Gotta be a werewolf...What? What's up?"
Sam had turned and targeted Dean with an angry glare while the older Hunter spoke.
"Oh, I dunno; maybe I somehow thought we'd give ourselves a break after the last job? Maybe I was dumb enough to hope for at least forty eight hours off. You know, just long enough to catch up on some sleep, re-stock on supplies, let some of the bruising fade, get used to not having to hide out in a cold, wet cave, get the stench of zombie outta our clothes; that kinda thing? But nooooo. Lucky us, you've found us a Werewolf we can start chasin' after. Right, well I guess we'd better get suited up, give breakfast a miss and get out there. You wanna start with the cops or the local press? C'mon, hurry up, go get your shower an' make it fast; next full moon's Sunday an' we got a lot to sort out. I'll go settle the hotel bill an' start movin' our stuff out to the car. At least livin' in her we'll stay dry an' warm, not like in that damn cave...Dean? Why're you still standin' around?"
Dean was staring at Sam with a small frown.
"You've got bruises?"
The two Hunters strolled into the hotel dining room, Sam having been somewhat mollified by Dean offering to extend and fund their booking at the hotel. Dean's eyes opened wide at the amount and sheer variety of both hot and cold food available to choose from at the all you can eat buffet style breakfast.
"Oh man, I'm gonna still be sat eating when lunch time comes around!"
Sam grinned.
"Tell you what, you start at that end an' we'll meet in the middle!"
A petite brunette spotted the pair and beckoned them over,
"What room are you in gentlemen?"
Dean turned on the smile.
"Shouldn't we at least introduce ourselves first?"
The waitress looked slightly confused.
"Um, certainly sir, my name's Emma and If you would give me your room number, I'll show you to your table."
Elbowing his brother into silence, Sam took over.
"Thank you. We're in Tower room 1."
As they followed the waitress Sam muttered into Dean's ear,
"Crash an' burn bro'."
Having launched an attack on the mouth watering wide variety of hot and cold food available, Dean sat gazing lovingly at his brimming plate.
"This, Sammy, is a man sized breakfast, with not a nut or raisin in sight. You can keep your living yogurts an' your cereal free cereals, this is proper fuel for the body."
Sam shrugged.
"It'll come back an' haunt you one day Dean."
The older Hunter re-considered his food.
"Which d'you think it'll be? A creepy Casper chicken? A pissed off piggy poltergeist? Maybe a moanin' mushroom? An' speakin' of...This case."
Sam glanced around, reassuring himself that the other occupied tables weren't too close before he answered, dropping his voice almost to a whisper.
"You said this thing's been goin' on for over a year?"
"Right."
"Without any eye witnesses?"
"My guess? Our guy's varied his diet, he's not just snacked on locals, an' not all the left-overs will've been found. The cops have credited nine kills to the...Wait for it...'Moonlight Murderer'. Imaginative, huh? Obviously, the real body count's gonna be higher, even if it's only taken one vic each cycle."
"You know Dean, I'm pretty sure I've heard the tag 'Moonlight Murderer' already."
Dean looked at Sam in surprise.
"Since we got here? How come you didn't..."
Sam cut his brother off.
"Not here, on TV. On one of those real crime shows...Open Case Files. That was it."
"You seriously watch that show?"
"Well, yeah, but only if we're lookin' for a case. I remember a slot a few episodes ago, it was about a serial killer nick-named the Moonlight Murderer...Unless there's been another 'Moonlight Murderer'? The programme talked about six murders but, like I said, it was a number of episodes ago."
"But you didn't pick it up for us?"
"No Dean, I'm sorry, I didn't. There wasn't much info about the actual killin's, the show was more focused on tryin' to damn the local cops for incompetence; ok?"
"Ok, ok. I'm sorry. Anyway, from what Phil's said about the state of the remains, this' got werewolf written all over it. It's definitely our kinda case. So. You in?"
Sam sighed.
"Given that the only other option is to let you go catch a werewolf by it's tail on your own, I don't have much choice, do I? Which do you want, cops or library an' local press?"
"I'll take the cops."
"Fine. You can see your pal Phil about extendin' our stay as well."|
Dean gave an embarrassed coughed and looked away.
"Um. Already done an' sorted."
Sam stared across the table at his brother, then shook his head in resignation.
"I'm goin' for more coffee. Want one?"
"Yeah, thanks."||
"Great, go get it yourself, douche."
-oOo-
Chick xxxxx
