The Aswang flew high in the night sky, undetected by humans or animals as it headed for the east side of the city. It had a new objective in mind; an obtainable meal without the threat of intervention from those bothersome hunters.
It had hoped that the hunter had been too severely wounded to pursue it after their battle the previous morning and that was why it had remained fixated on the young human. She was the perfect meal; a young woman ripe with a full-term baby. She would have quenched the Aswang's appetite for more than a few days by providing two sets of organs and twice the blood as a single human meal. An ideal feast for a hungry Aswang.
But the hunter had returned, this time with help, denying him his food once again, and the Aswang had been forced to flee after they had injured it. The damage they had caused added to its need to obtain sustenance, for now it had wounds that required mending. The Aswang would not be able to restore itself to a healthy state until it acquired sufficient blood to satisfy its hunger and to be able to divert the excess to the caring and healing of its wounds.
So it needed to kill. And it needed to kill as soon as possible. The longer it went without food, the weaker it would get. It had to find a meal immediately. And the Aswang knew where it would find a choice, easy target – a young, injured human left alone by the very hunters it had just fled.
They were too far away to help the young one. So the Aswang gave a powerful flap of its bat-like wings and soared across the sky toward its prey. It was only a matter of minutes.
It would eat well tonight.
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John and Dean gathered the discarded weapons in record time and dashed to the vehicles. They had agreed that it would be best to return to the motel in their respective vehicles, so they could approach it from opposite directions. John would drive straight into the parking lot and meet the Aswang head on. Dean would swing around behind the motel and come in from the rear of the building. This would provide them with two separate vantage points for their attack.
John estimated that the Aswang would arrive at the motel at least fifteen minutes before either he or Dean would. That would give the creature ample time to lure Sam from the safety of the room. John and Dean had protected the motel room before they left, but they had forgotten one very important detail. No one had bothered to tell Sam what they were fighting. Sam had been too tired to ask and neither Dean nor John had thought it important at the time. They were going to kill this thing and Sam would be safe in the motel.
But that was just it. Sam would remain safe only as long as he remained inside the motel. But he was ill and had been given medicine at the hospital to combat the pain. And while the sedatives would no doubt accomplish that goal, they would also affect Sam's mind. He would not be thinking clearly and that would put him in danger.
The two eldest Winchesters drove to the motel as if a life depended on it. And Sam's did.
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The Aswang reached the motel in just a few short minutes, but before it began its descent, it slowly circled the building looking for enemies and threats. But it was well past midnight and the parking lot and nearby streets were empty. So the creature dropped silently from the night sky onto the roof of the motel.
The Aswang gently placed its back paws on the roof and slowly brought its lithe body down over its sleek muscular legs until it sat motionless on its haunches. It folded its gigantic, leathery black wings over its back and stared out into the surrounding area. Its luminescent green eyes were the only concrete evidence that it was actually there; the remainder of its body was concealed in the blackness of the night.
The creature sat stock-still as it sniffed out its prey. It knew that the young human was in one of the rooms below it, but it was uncertain exactly which one. It closed its sphere-shaped eyes and entrusted its keen sense of smell to close in on its meal.
Soon, the Aswang had determined where its unsuspecting prey lay waiting and it crept noiselessly to the edge of the roof and sat above the door. It could hear its quarry breathing, deep and rhythmic, sure signs that it was asleep and defenseless.
But the creature could sense something else; something that would make it almost impossible for it to reach its chosen victim. There was a substance present in area around the young human that the Aswang could not circumvent. Salt. It could smell the salt from its perch and knew that the room was impenetrable.
But that didn't mean that its prey was safe and beyond reach. It only meant that the creature would have to be cunning and patient. Sick humans were more vulnerable than most others as their weakened physical states altered their thought processes and they were more apt to act recklessly.
The Aswang swung its large, muscular tail over the edge of the roof and let it hang limply in front of the door while it continued to survey the area. Confident that there was no one watching, it began to tap the door lightly with tip of its tail, just loud enough for the human inside to hear.
Inside the motel, Sam was sleeping soundly, his body completely overcome by fatigue and his subconscious subdued by the drugs.
At first, he remained oblivious to the tapping on the door but he slowly started to stir as the unrelenting noise filtered into his brain. Sam tossed and turned a few times in a futile attempt to ignore the sound, but after a few minutes, he was alert enough to recognize the tapping on the door.
"Aww, Dean," he muttered. "Use your fucking key," and he covered his head with his pillow hoping to drown out the incessant tapping.
The Aswang had heard him speak and had recognized that its victim was stirring. In just a few more moments it would have its meal. The creature licked its lips and increased the tapping slightly, now impatient in its efforts to lure its victim from the safety of the room.
"Dean! Don't be a jerk!" snapped Sam a little louder.
The tapping continued, further arousing Sam from his slumber. Still, Sam fought the inclination to awaken and tightened his grip on his pillow, forcing it closer to his ears, but he was unable to disregard the annoying patter.
The tapping was fraying his nerves and, in annoyance, Sam sat up quickly, forgetting his injuries. The sudden movement left him wincing in pain, increasing his level of irritation to an all-new high. Angry, frustrated and only half-awake, Sam got up from the bed and stormed over to the door.
"Dean, I'm gonna fucking kill you."
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Dean had followed his father's truck across town until they were a couple of blocks away from the motel. Then he had turned onto a side street in order to drive up to the back of the motel. As he neared the building, he removed his foot from the gas pedal, letting the car coast closer to his destination until he came to a stop. There was no sense warning the Aswang that he had arrived.
As he quietly exited the Impala, Dean could hear the sounds of his father's truck emanating from the front of the building. Now that they were both here, they were ready to kick some Aswang butt.
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John drove across town like a man possessed; his youngest son's life was at stake and he'd be damned if that Aswang was going to get to him.
John knew that the creature would see him coming as he approached the motel so there was no need to conceal his arrival. Besides, the more noise he made, the sooner he would attract its attention away from Sam.
The tires squealed as John turned sharply into the motel parking lot. John could just barely make out the shape of the Aswang on the roof above his motel room. He could see that the door to the motel room was closed, which meant that Sam was safe inside. John thanked whatever lucky stars he might have that he had not been too late to save his son.
But as he drove nearer to the motel, John watched in horror as the door to the motel room swung violently open.