Even though he was exhausted from the half-night of hunting that he and Sam and Bobby had done, Dean fought the urge to sleep, as he and Bobby poured over the notes that Rufus had dropped off concerning the case. It was confusing, it had all the makings of a classic spirit case with a twist, but some of the evidence contradicted it. It wasn't common for spirits to differentiate between their victims like this spirit seemed to be doing. Normally they went after whoever they thought had wronged them in their old life, and haunted them and their family through the generations.

Hearing that a spirit (or demon, which was looking more and more likely) was going after kids who had misbehaved, was odd. It was almost like whatever was doing it, had taken it upon themselves to punish the kids, and send them into eternal timeout. It didn't make sense. Not that most jobs did, but at least in the other ones, they had something solid to go on; some other reference to back up their theories on what could be causing something so bizarre. Sitting at the counter, Dean swiped his eyes tiredly with his fingers while he fought to stay awake long enough to reach some sort of conclusion with Bobby.

Besides the research they had spread out over their table, they also had lore books dating back tens of thousands of years, as they searched for any common link to thread it all together so they would know more about to go about killing this thing. Whatever it was. Stifling a yawn, Dean blinked several times and turned the page of one of the history books. It was Greek lore, something that had always fascinated him, as he tried to make his eyes focus on the print before him, but it was all blurring together too much for him to make much sense out of the words.

"What have you got so far?" Dean asked, his voice heavy.

"Zilch."

"Well, that's about what I got."

"Let me see," Bobby suggested, as he took the heavy tome from the sleep-deprived teen. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I feel like it," Dean grumbled, as he finally gave into temptation and let a yawn escape from the thick walls he had tried to erect around it. "I couldn't find anything in there, but that doesn't mean much tonight."

He could have found the answer to all their problems, and it would have completely escaped him, as he fought an inevitable date with unconsciousness. Even though he would have given his right arm to be able to go bed, he didn't want to yet, not until he and Bobby made at least some headway in their search for answers.

Sam had long ago abandoned them, giving himself in to sleep when the immediate action was done for the night. The kid had done well, much to Dean's pleasant surprise, and had managed to listen to the orders that Bobby had given him without too much hassle, even when the slight pout had given away his secret disapproval.

"Well, you definitely earned a good one," Bobby remarked, as he bent his head low to investigate some finding that he had made. "I think I found something."

"How the hell did you do that?" Dean demanded. "I flipped through that entire book twice."

"But you were also half-conscious," Bobby reminded him. "It's not definite, but it's a starting point."

"Is it a spirit?" Dean asked, as he leaned foreword eagerly to sponge up as much intel as he could from the older hunter. "Or demon?"

"Kind of...both, actually," Bobby said, his eyebrows knitting together in tight concentration while he focused on the text on the ancient pages. "It's weird."

"Well, keep the suspense going," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"It's a mormo."

"A what?"

That was new, something he never heard of before, and he was sure he heard it all from the limited knowledge of monsters and demons that he possessed in his impressive storage bin of a brain.

"A mormo," Bobby repeated patiently. "It's a spirit, but from the way it's told here, it also resembles something like a vampire."

"The holes in the kid's neck..."

"A mormo is a nursery tale told to Greek children by their parents or nanny. Supposedly if the child misbehaves, the mormo will come and bite them. From what they describe, it's a spirit but it has all of the qualities and characteristics of a female vampire."

Dean shook his head incredulously. "So this spirit son of a bitch is going after kids because-"

"Because I bet you thousands of years ago, she was nanny dearest, and when she died-"

"She kept doing it," Dean guessed quietly. "So what now?"

"Because it's not fully a spirit, at least not in the technical sense," Bobby explained, shaking his head. "It says that you can kill it with a head shot, or a salt and burn."

"But we don't have the grave site," Dean reminded him.

"Exactly. It says that the mormo is most sensitive to modern-day weapons when its feeding."

"So what happens when it starts?"

"Nothing. It drains the victims of their blood. That's why the mothers all found their children soaked in blood the next morning. We wait, we set up shop and we watch until this thing comes, and then we say hello."

"With what?" Dean pressed, wanting to be as well-versed on the plan as possible so there wouldn't be any nasty surprises later on.

"Clean shot to the head, maybe some salt rounds if the thing hangs on."

"Okay," Dean nodded. "When do we this?"

"Tonight in case it feels like going hunting."

"How do we know-"

"I cross-referenced all the houses," Bobby said, as he pointed them all out to Dean on the map that he had drawn up. "So far, all these," he said, "have been hit. This one," he said, drawing a red circle around it. "Hasn't."

"And this house has kids?"

"Yeah."

Dean nodded, definitely feeling more awake now, as he struggled out of his seat. "So you want me to get Sam up?" he asked, as he lifted his arms above his head to stretch.

"You can."

"Well, we aren't leaving him here," Dean retorted, as he grabbed their things.

"No, that's true."


Even though it was obvious Sam didn't like the idea that he was being awakened right after he managed to go to sleep for the night, he couldn't deny the thrill of going out again after dark, even when they agreed not to do that, but the chance of finding and ending this thing, was too great.

"I thought we weren't hunting after dark," Sam groused, his voice thick with the sleep that he had just been rudely deprived of.

"We weren't supposed to," Dean explained from the front seat, glancing anxiously at all the passing homes, eager to reach the right one. "But if we're right, this thing hunts only at night, and we know how to kill it."

"How?"

"Clean shot to the head," Bobby explained. "And we have salt rounds to back us up in case."

In their weapons bag, they held all the machetes and rock salt guns they could possibly need. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, Dean waited for Bobby's cue before getting out.

"What are we going to say to them?"

"Figured the usual," Bobby shrugged. "An ancient vampire is going to feed on your kids. Same drill." Shaking his head, he lowered his voice. "Just tell 'em they got a gas leak that needs fixin' tonight. If this thing comes out to play, they'll thank us."

"And it will," Dean said, shaking his head. "Sick freak."

Spirits and demons normally grossed him out, but this one took the cake. Going after children who had been bad. For thousands of years this monster had killed them for doing absolutely nothing wrong. A spirit that had been born out of a legend meant to scare their children, not kill them.

"What do I do?" Sam asked, his little voice trembling from a combination of the elements and nerves, as he stuck close to Bobby and Dean's side, as they crouched down under the bushes, waiting to hear any sound that came from the window right above them.

"Nothing. You arm yourself," Bobby said, as he passed over a shotgun to him. "You make sure the safety is on, and you wait for my cue."

"Okay. How do you know if we're under the right window?"

"We don't," Dean said, "but this is the only one we can position ourselves under."

Heart hammering in his chest, he fought the urge to run in and get the show on the road. It wouldn't help the victims, and it wouldn't help them save any lives, either, even though the temptation was strongly there for him.

"Just hang tight," Bobby whispered, sensing how tense the thirteen-year-old was. "We'll get there."

"I know."

Tightening his grip around the rock salt gun that Bobby had passed over to him, he tried to breathe through the adrenaline that was rapidly assaulting his senses, as he tried to think of a successful outcome to this case, and have a resolution before anyone else got hurt.

"Do I shoot?" Sam asked.

"You can if you have a clear shot," Bobby replied, "but you stay behind me and Dean always."

"Okay."

It seemed to take hours, but within minutes actually, they heard the first screams. Breaking the door down, Bobby took the stairs three at a time as he and the boys searched out the correct bedroom. Standing over the small girl, her eyes wide in terror as she stared up at the thing standing over, her eyes flew to the people who had just broken into her room.

"Get down!" Dean yelled. "Under your bed!"

Not wasting a second, she did as she was told and she rolled over onto the floor, and under her bed. The vampire/spirit was clearly stunned that it had been caught, as it glanced anxiously around the room, clearly knowing that it was trapped.

"Hope you had fun," Dean said, as he shot a round at its chest just on principle alone.

"And I hope it was worth it," Bobby said, as he took a step closer and took a clean head shot with the machete that he had brought with him.

"Sam," Dean said, never taking his eyes off the spirit. "Make sure she's okay."

Obeying that order, Sam leaned down on the ground as he checked her over for any injuries. The girl was fine, shaken but fine, and her parents who had barged in the second they had heard the commotion, were understandably horrified, but relieved that whatever had been killing those children in the neighborhood, had been caught.

A successful job well done.