As much as Dean liked having his own room, this was his real home, this was where he belonged: in the Impala. Dean grew up in this car and despite all that had happened to him, all the family feuds, all the wrecks, and all of the close encounters, fond memories in this car would always prevail. He knew Sam didn't share these feelings, but he also knew that Sam still loved the Impala all the same. It was in this car that Sam and Dean would bond the best despite the fights, however harsh or unfair, this car could always bring them together again.

These are the reasons why Dean was always so relaxed in this car. No matter how far they would have to drive, he was always relaxed. Even now, after fifteen hours with the occasional stop for food or a bathroom break, Dean had his window down singing along to a local station he could actually enjoy. Despite the fact that the two of them were on their way to Dubuque for a job, Dean acted as if he didn't have a care in the world. This was his home. This is where he was safe.

Sam didn't say anything. He was too busy doing research on what could be taking the children. Dean kept looking over to check his progress, but it had only been a couple of hours ago that Sam had managed to get Internet on his laptop via some cell-tower, satellite… thing. That was Sam's area of expertise. Dean was happier playing the role of the mechanic.

The song Dean had been singing ended, and the DJ was yapping about something Dean didn't care to care about. He looked over at Sam again, but he was still engulfed in his research. Dean looked back at the road as the next song was starting up.

"There's a lady who's sure all the glitters is gold, and she's buying a stairway to heaven. When she gets there she knows if the stores are all closed, with a word she can get what she came for." Dean hit the power to the stereo and shut it off.

"Sounds more like a deal with a demon to me. No way you could buy your way into heaven." Dean looked over at Sam again. He didn't say a word. "Alright Sammy, you don't start talking to me I might start fallin' asleep at the wheel. What have you found?"

Sam's eyes darted across the screen as he skimmed more lines. "Nothing good," he finally said, pushing the computer away from his face a little. "I did some research into the nature of the disappearances and they coincided with a lot of things: faeries, wendigos, ghosts, but there were other factors that just didn't add up. Like these kids disappeared in parks or their backyards, not in some mountainous forested region where wendigos live."

Dean sighed. "So you've got nothing." It was a statement, not a question.

Shaking his head, Sam turned the computer slightly so that Dean could catch a glimpse of a picture while driving. "Not exactly. This is a German woodcutting of something called Der Großmann"

Glancing at Sam's laptop, Dean managed to catch a glimpse of the woodcutting. It was a small thing, depicting a thing, faceless figure walking through dark woods. "Never heard of it."

"Me neither. So I looked it up. Der Großmann translates to the Tall Man, now known as Slender Man."

Dean's brow wrinkled as he thought about that name. He'd heard it somewhere before, but he couldn't place it. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

Sam shrugged, turning his computer to face him again. "No. But to the rest of the world, it's a video game called Slender."

"Dammit Sammy." Dean hit the steering wheel but immediately regretted it and rubbed the wheel where he'd hit. "I told you this was a bust!"

"I still don't think it is." Sam looked down at his laptop. "Listen to this. It's an account of Der Großmann man 1702. 'My child, my Lars… he is gone. Taken, from his bed. The only thing that we found was a scrap of black clothing. It feels like cotton, but it is softer… thicker. Lars came into my bedroom yesterday, screaming at the top of his lungs that "The angel is outside!" I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me some nonsense fairy story about the Tall Man. He said he went into the groves by our village and found one of my cows dead, hanging from a tree. I thought nothing of it at first… But now, he is gone. We must find Lars, and my family must leave before we are all killed. I am sorry my son… I should have listened. May God forgive me.'

"Obviously the lore is there Dean. Not to mention all of the symptoms the children exhibited before they disappeared are said to be caused by this Slender Man. And Garth believes something is there."

Dean was getting frustrated. He liked Garth… kind of, but he wasn't exactly an expert on supernatural occurrences. "Garth was in a picture talking to a kid with Mr. Fizzles. That doesn't mean something is actually going on there."

"Actually, I think I know why Garth was talking to that kid." Sam started scrolling through some information in his laptop. "It says here that only kids can see the Slender Man and they remain invisible to adults. Garth was likely talking to the kid trying to get information from him."

It was obvious that Sam believed this was a job, but Dean was still skeptical. From what Sam had told him so far, these kids disappearing just sounded like some creep trying to emulate a video game. "Why haven't we heard of this Slender Man until now? Especially if it's been around since 1702."

It looked as if Dean had Sam with that one, but Sam was adamant. "I honestly don't know. I looked for similar cases, and it looked like all instances of this type of kidnapping ceased around the 1950s." Sam paused then looked at Dean. "Until now. I have no idea what could have brought them back."

Sam clearly was not going to budge on this. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter, driving through the black of night, the wind off the road blowing through the open window. "Alright. Then how do we kill it?"

There was a pause, a moment of silence where Sam said nothing. "That's where it gets really bad. The good news is that it seems anything can kill it. A knife, a bullet, a blow to the head. The bad news is that if we kill one, fifteen more appear anywhere in the world."

Dean looked over at Sam. "Well yeah, I'd call that bad n–."

A ding on Sam's computer interrupted Dean. Sam looked down at a window that had popped up. "Upload complete…" There was suddenly a flash of light that blinded Dean. His hand went up to cover his eyes, but the light seeped through to the point where it seemed Dean no longer had a hand. He closed his eyes, but the light was still there, accompanied by a tingling. It seemed to seep into every cell, every nerve, and as it did so the tingling increased in intensity until it became a stinging, and then a stabbing pain. Dean tried to scream, he tried to call for his brother, but the stinging swept into his throat and choked him. His entire body was in agony.

And then it stopped.

The stabbing pain, the light, they were gone. And Dean was standing. How was he standing? It took a moment, but he finally opened his eyes. In front of his eyes was his hand, but it wasn't his hand. He could feel it, he could move it, but it was all… blocky.

"Dean?" His voice was strangely muffled, like it was coming out of some old speakers, but the voice was definitely Sam's. Dean turned and in front of him stood a very block, very angular, very square version of Sam.

"Sam?"

Making odd movements, Sam looked at his hands. They were also blocky, like Deans. "I think so. What happened?"

For the first time, Dean looked around at the world they stood in. Where had the impala gone? No. Where had they gone? It was noon when before it had been midnight. There were trees where before there had been farms. But the sun, and the trees… and the world, they were all also so angular, so square. "I have no idea. But the first question we need to answer is where are we now?"

Before Sam could come up with a response, Dean heard an odd sound from behind a tree to his left. The sound could have been interpreted as foot steps in some obscure way. He spun around to face the noise and saw another blocky person. Her pixilated hair was red, and her face was unclear. Before Dean could say anything, a speech bubble appeared over this new person's head.

"'Sup bitches?"