Sam and Dean's meeting with Jackson went as well as could be expected. Sam vaguely remembered meeting Jackson years ago when
the guy still had both of his legs. Dean must remember him more, at least he seemed to.
Jackson settled comfortably in an easy chair, motioning for the boys to take a seat on the battered couch. Dean cut in before Jackson
even had a chance to begin speaking. "So what's the deal?"
"Guys are disappearing, never to be seen again. Fact is, I know what's doing it, even how. I called y'all 'cause I can't take care of the
problem myself." He glared down at his missing leg. Sam's curiosity was beginning to get the best of him, not only because they needed
the info for the job but because somehow he knew it wouldn't be easily believed. "So what is it?"
Jackson smiled grimly. "You're not gonna believe it, guys. It's a Siren."
Dean let out a laugh. "You're kidding, right? A friggin' Siren? Mythological creature that lures sailors to their deaths by seducing them
with a song? Right. I thought that they lived on an Italian coast anyway." Sam stared at Dean in shock. Usually he was the one that knew
about things, not Dean. Dean shrugged at the look Sam gave him. "What? The dude in detention had a degree in Mythological
Anthropology or something like that. He'd tell stories for about an hour every day and I'd listen. Besides, the idea of a beautiful naked
woman seducing men to their deaths was kinda intriguing." Sam sighed inwardly. Of course Dean had paid attention; a woman—scratch
that—a beautiful naked woman was involved. Dean was never going to change and the truth of the matter was that Sam really didn't
want him to.
After talking a while longer to Jackson, Sam and Dean went back to there motel room. Sam fired up his laptop, heeding Jackson's
suggestion that they do more research before jumping right in, and sent Dean off to the library to get a couple of mythology books. Dean
returned a short time later, arms laden with more books than one would have expected.
Hours later Dean sighed as he set aside yet another book. "Whatcha got, Sam?" Sam looked up from the screen, rubbing his eyes.
"There's a number of different accounts, but most often Sirens are seen with the head of a woman on the body of an eagle—of which
form is a relative of Harpies—or the head and torso of a woman and the lower half of a fish or even a seabird. Some say that Sirens
appear to have some sort of shape-shifting ability for they've appeared as beautiful women before turning into their true form of hideous
creatures."
"That's pretty much what all these books say. What do the sites say about where they live?"
Sam glanced back at the screen. "Not much. Just that they usually reside off the coasts of Italy."
"Huh. A couple of these books say that Sirens live in small colonies of 3-8 females and that because there's never been mention of a
male Siren, it stands to reason that Sirens have a lifecycle that spans a number of centuries and could explain their thirst for the blood of
human men."
"That's…sick." Sam's face twisted with a look of disgust. "So what else ya got?"
"Ok, so they favor small rock islands that are well equipped with reefs and shoals which can break up the ships they attract. Nobody
knows what the Siren song sounds like, but it's thought to contain knowledge and the promise of unearthly, exotic pleasure. Says that if
you hear the song you're so screwed and that there's no known means to kill them."
"Not exactly. You can force them to commit suicide by drowning out their song with a more attractive tune. Another legend says that
Sirens are fated to die whenever a man does not fall under their spell. They can also be killed by any weapons known to man if you are
able to resist their song. Says in ancient times Odysseus used wax to plug the ears of his crew; other methods are to wear headphones
or earmuffs."
"Okay, then let's get this bitch. What I wanna know is how it wound up here?" Dean said, grabbing the car keys.
He watched from the security room, immersed in the darkness as his…acquisition lured guy after guy away; he assumed she killed them,
but he didn't care to find out. It was pure luck that he'd found her on that trip to Italy. He'd seen her, on the distant shore, naked,
beautiful, and he wanted her. He had done a little research and devised a way to capture her, and once captured she revealed her true
form, a old, wrinkled, scaly woman with the body of a fish. Despite the repulsiveness, he was too enraptured with her other form to care
and made a deal. Yes, he thought, images of her underneath him rushing through his mind, it was an excellent deal. Well worth
whatever trouble she may bring.
A/N: So anyway no reviews, no more chapters. You know what to do.