A/N: Hello everyone. Sorry for the wait. ncsupnatfan: Thank you so much for reviewing. Sam is indeed having visions, though at this point in his life they are only dreams. I have a headcanon that that would have started as soon as Azazal infected him, demon blood is a drug after all, and that is why in very early chapters Dean was concerned about that Sam was "crying all the time, especially when he woke up." It wasn't, as Bobby suggested when asked, Sam's age, but the horrible nightmares Sam was experiencing. The first mention of a specific dream was in ch. 5, with Sam having a premonition of himself and Ruby in the alcoholic grief-fueled early days between seasons 3-4. Sam's dream of Swan Song, Cas's interference in which resulted in his banishment to heaven, was also meant to be a premonition. You are correct, however, this is the first non-canon premonition we have had. Thank you for asking, that is something I have wanted an excuse to clarify for a while. John is doing his best, as usual, and as usual his efforts just aren't coming up to scratch, are they? As far as Cas's intentions… he always means well, doesn't he? *Evil Author Laugh* We shall see…


Chapter 22


John searched through the mythology section of the library, pulling out every book that looked like it even had a possibility of being relevant to the case. He dumped them in large stacks on a table, before going back to scour the shelves. Finally he sat down, ready to begin the arduous task of cross-referencing every single creature mentioned in the books with the profile drawn by the existing research. Any creature that even remotely fit, he would put on a list of possible culprits. After that would come the hard part: looking at past crime and phenomena patterns and determining whether they were marks of the creature. That research, added to the research done by Bill's partner, he could then use to begin crossing suspects off the list. He sighed as he opened the first book.

Hours later he was starting to get frustrated. This was taking far too long and time was of the essence. Every moment wasted heightened the likelihood of Bill's death. Of course if he went prepared for the wrong thing, the chances were good that they would both end up dead. He closed another finished book and looked at his list. Ten monsters. It was a good start. Maybe he could deal with the one's already on the list, narrow it down, before adding any more names. It was possible the creature might already be on the list, and in that case waiting to add more might just waste time. Also he really didn't want to read any more lore books discussing "mythic" creatures and as a result giving far too little info. If he was honest with himself, that was the main reason, but he didn't give himself time to think about it. Instead he bolted to his feet, in the manner one frequently adopts after finding a sufficiently alluring excuse to escape a necessary but unattractive task.

He moved to the microfiche viewer and periodicals. The hunter's research had been fairly extensive, but he saw nothing wrong with double-checking, especially as the boy was apparently inexperienced. Inexperienced, but smart. John found nothing that hadn't already been mentioned in the research. Eventually, he sat back down at the table, glaring at the pages of the folder, as if commanding them to yield up their secrets.

His gaze narrowed in on a map, detailing the approximate locations of the disappearances. He squinted at it quizzically. They were dotted all over, but mostly heavily concentrated in a certain area. Likely that was the location of the creature's lair. Excited by the discovery, he asked the librarian for a geological map of the forest outside of town. He looked at it and smiled. Right in the center of the disappearances was a cave, small, mostly underground, almost like a rock slab with the ground scooped out from under it. That narrowed the field considerably. Most creatures were very picky about their environment, and the number that preferred that sort of home were quite limited.

He went through the research, pulling out any facts that could give him clues about the species. First: Were victims taken on a schedule, or just randomly? Just randomly, though the farther out along the radius one went from the cave, the fewer the disappearances. Clearly not a cursed forest then. Also probably couldn't teleport, as then it wouldn't care nearly so much about distance. It didn't seem to have a specific territory either. Having driven around the edge of town, the only pay phone Bill could have realistically called from was at a long-abandoned gas station just outside of the forest, well away from any of the other victims. Likely he had angered it, then run when the hunt went south. Having reached the gas station, he realized the creature wasn't going to give up, and he himself had little chance of escape. Forcing his brain back on topic, John considered other factors. There was no particular pattern, the victims were of all races, genders, ethnicities, backgrounds, etc. Probably not a spirit then. Spirits usually had a type. He continued to work, listing every single thing he could pull from the research that might tell him what this thing was. Finally he went through the list of creatures, eliminating them one by one until there was only one left on the list. He sat back and sighed. A troll. It was unusual, certainly, but it wasn't unheard of. It also fit the profile to a tee. And it was similar enouph to a Windigo that an inexperienced or over-eager hunter might easily get them confused. He leaned back over the table with a groan, "Okay, now, how do I kill it."

He talked to the librarian, and with her help found every non-fiction book that mentioned trolls. He flipped through them, stopping whenever he saw kill, killed, dead, destroyed, or any other potentially useful words. He was well aware of the time he was taking, and his rush showed in his research style.


He hiked in. It wasn't fun, but the car wasn't an option. The sun had long since set and he moved fast, trying to make as little sound as possible. John held his taser (extra-strength) out in front of him as he walked, hoping that if he was attacked, the creature would make enouph noise that he would have time to shoot. The lore had said trolls were afraid of sunlight and lightning. Hopefully a ten-thousand volt taser would be close enouph to simulate the latter.

He leaned against a tree, looking around carefully before taking out his flashlight and map, flicking on the light in an attempt to determine his location. Cursing under his breath, he shoved the map under his arm and took out his compass. As long as he was going the right direction hopefully he wouldn't get lost.

He stumbled on, until eventually his flashlight beam landed on a large rock outcropping. Panning down, he saw a long, low opening near the ground. John looked around once more, then crunched and made his way into the cave.


John waved his flashlight around. He didn't know how far back the cave extended, but if he could he was hoping to rescue Bill and get him back to the Roadhouse, then come back and finish the job. The last thing he needed was a wounded liability.

He continued to walk towards the back of the cave, cursing under his breath as the light continued to reveal no sign of the missing man. He almost called out to him, but thought better of it as it occurred to him that such a signal would likely be heard by the troll as well.

Finally he heard a moan to his left. Hurrying through the dark, John saw a well-bound man propped up against the wall. His breathing was shallow and open-mouthed, his blond hair was matted and stiff with dirt and sweat, and he had a bad gash on his cheek, but he was alive and seemed to be conscious. This assessment proved correct as Bill raised his head to look at John and spoke, "Oh, thank God." He squinted a bit against the flashlight beam in his face. John lowered it, "You Bill Harvelle?"

He nodded, "Yes I am."

John smiled, "Your wife's getting kinda worried."

Bill barked out a sort of relieved half-laugh, "I'm sure."

John walked over and knelt down, taking out a knife to cut the rope, "You okay?"

"Yeah. Might want to take care of the kid though."

John stared at him, "He's alive?"

Bill swallowed and licked his lips in an attempt to moisten them, "Last I checked. He's unconscious most of the time."

"Where is he?"

Bill nodded his head to his right, "Over there."

John crept over to the other hunter, a boy of about sixteen, sitting unconscious against the wall. Pulling out his knife, John released him from his bonds, then looked back at Bill, "Hey. Think you could carry him?" Bill looked unsure. "It's this or the taser. Which one do you want? Can you shoot right now?"

Bill struggled to his feet, "Okay. Help me lift him." John supported the dead weight to a standing position, then moved to place the boy's arm around Bill's shoulders. Stumbling a bit, the hunter followed John towards the front of the cave.