Sam ran down the stairs taking them two at a time, he held his silver pistol in one hand and a silver knife in the other. A burger lay among a pile of napkins on the wooden floor but there was no sign of Dean anywhere. "Dean?" he had been sure he heard his brother's voice only moments ago. He took light, quick, steps through the small hallway that doubled as a lobby and into the front room. The old grandmother's slippers lay discarded neatly on the floor by the armchair she had been sitting on. Sam tensed up as he walked past the little blonde girl's hair clips embedded in a cushion. Something felt off, the air didn't even feel right. Dean had the EMF meter so there was no way Sam could know what awaited him when he found his brother, because he was going to find him, he was.

Dean woke with a start. He squinted his eyes and tried to make out the dull shapes of empty barrels and casks which lay basking in a dull candle light. The plump lady perched on the edge of a crate like a bird poised for take off. Beside her stood and insanely tall man whose eyes glowed bright green. The man took a few steps forwards, his feet were pointing the wrong way.

"Did Doctor Frankenstein screw your feet on the wrong way or something?" Dean's mockery earned him a punch in the face. The man's fist had missed his nose but he would soon be sporting a bruise on his jaw.

"Just like you told me. The tall one and the old one. I found them for you!" the woman chirped, "Will you show me the ways of magic?"

The tall man smirked and gave Dean a devilish grin. He picked up a foot long golden feather, each vane had been sharpened to a fine point. He muttered an incantation and the feather hovered in the air, glistening in the glow of the small flames. It fluttered delicately around the woman and she watched on in delight like a child at Christmas. The man's eyes glowed even brighter and a burst of maniac laughter escaped his lungs. The feather danced across the woman's skin, tearing it to shreds, Dean watched on in horror. Was this what awaited him? The woman's shrieks echoed throughout the dank basement of the B&B. The feather dove through her chest and impaled itself in an empty beer cask. Her limp, bloody form fell to the floor with a thud. Her spirit, confused and scared, joined those of the man's previous victims. She stood by the grandmother and the granddaughter, their clothes still red with blood.

"You can't say I didn't keep my promise. I showed her magic." the man said with a grin.

Dean's hands were bound by rope but he slowly sawed away with the small knife both him and Sam always kept up their sleeves. He was halfway through the thick rope but still had a way to go.

"Well she was sort of useful. She told me you were here. You see, my boss wasn't very happy about the carnage you lot left at the warehouse. Unpleasant business, so I got called upon to bring you in. It's only little Sammy that the boss wants. But the rest of us, well we didn't think the big bad Winchesters would let us off scot-free. Looks like you all have to die." he sneered.

"What the hell do you want with Sam?!" Dean demanded, his father had warned him about this, Something's gunning for him.

"Why should I care? I just know I'm getting handsomely rewarded for my efforts."

"You stay the hell away from him!" Dean sawed through the rest of the rope and pulled his hands free. He leapt at the man, who stood a good two feet taller than him, but was thrown roughly into the wall. He slid to the floor and was swept off into blissful unconsciousness. The man opened the old trapdoor, that led up into the house, he lifted it just a fraction.

"Sam! Sammy!" he called in an almost perfect imitation of the unconscious man's voice.

Sam heard his brother's voice coming from the kitchen. "Dean?"

"Down here Sammy."

"Hold on, I'm coming." he said sensing something was wrong. There wasn't the usual twinge of arrogance in his brother's voice, nor was there a twinge of fear. Could something be imitating him? He walked warily into the kitchen. He had to find Dean. Light footsteps echoed in the empty room as he walked slowly forwards. One tile looked out-of-place, like it had been squashed or something. He crouched down to take a closer look at it, the tile wasn't squashed or squint; it was raised. He checked over his shoulder and raised the tile bit by bit until he could see steps leading down into a basement. He slid the tile across the floor and fished out a pocket torch. Light spilled out onto the stone steps but still he couldn't see the bottom. He stole silently down the steps until he could see the faint glow of candles. He was about to take a step forwards, off the steps and into the cellar, but stopped in his tracks; a huge figure towered over the limp form of his brother and the bloody corpse of the plump woman lay in tatters on the floor. His breath caught in his throat.

"I knew you'd come little Winchester. You boys certainly have a soft spot for each other." he ran a long finger through the pool of the plump lady's blood and licked it up hungrily with a maniac grin. "Fattening but still tasty."

Sam trained the gun on him, "What are you?"

"Sammy Sammy Sammy." the thing said still imitating Dean's voice, "Now that would be telling."

"You get away from him." he hid the tremor in his voice, but not well enough.

"Scared are we Sammy? No matter. You've got two choices. You haul your brother into the back of that van parked outside then hop in yourself. Or I kill Dean right now, tie you up and throw you in the back of that van." it picked Dean up with ease.

"Please just let him go." Sam kept the gun trained on the eight foot tall man.

"Hmm how about no." it smirked "Now leave your gun where it is and throw the knife into that barrel there." Sam hesitated but did as he said, "Good. Now walk up the stairs," it pulled the knife out of the wood, "And get in the van."

Sam walked backwards up the stairs keeping a constant eye on Dean. He was going to get a lecture about this once Dean woke up. He climbed into the kitchen and Dean was hurled onto him, knocking the air out of his lungs. "Oof." he gasped and pushed him off.

"Take him out to the van." the man pointed Sam's own gun at him.

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam whispered as he dragged his heavy brother out into the empty street. The van doors sprung open and Sam stopped before getting inside. The man growled and grabbed Dean's legs, throwing him in.

"Get in." Sam stepped in but his arms were grabbed, "Don't move." it said and secured his hands behind his back with the help of a few plastic ties. He shoved Sam over and into his brother who was just beginning to stir. He suddenly shimmered and transformed into a beautiful woman in a short red dress. "See if you can guess what I am. And I'll give you a clue, I'm no shape shifter." she shut the doors and locked them before climbing into the cab and starting up the engine.

Dean awoke groggily, "Shit, Sam, where am I?" he looked around at the blank walls lined with plywood. His hand jumped to the back of his head "That was sore." he remembered being thrown into the wall the huge man and seeing the dead woman on the floor. He sat up ignoring the protest from his head. "Sammy where are we?"

"In the back of a van." he was on his knees leaning against the wall with his hands tied firmly behind his back. "It threatened you. I didn't have any choice." he tried to explain seeing the outraged look on his brother's face.

"Dammit Sam, you should have left me where I was and gotten the hell out of there. I saw what it did to that lady, pretty much tickled her to death."

"Tickled her to death?"

"Feather made of spikes." he explained, "Anyway. That thing wants you. Not me. The only reason I'm still alive is so that you'll do what it says, am I right?"

Sam looked down "I couldn't leave you there."

Dean sighed, "You got any weapons? I'm clean." he sighed once more when Sam shook his head.

"It took them off me." he explained.

"Well you got any idea what 'it' is genius?"

"Tickled to death... tall man... shape shifting... eating humans... shit."

"What? What is it?"

"It's a Leshy. I don't know too much about them but I stumbled across some lore about them a couple of years ago. They're woodland spirits. Not ghost spirits, more like gods."

"How do we gank it."

"I..." Sam shook his head, he couldn't remember.

"Silver? Copper? Iron?"

"Iron." he recalled a passage about iron. "Chop it's head of with an iron axe!"

"Great." Dean said sarcastically, "Where the hell are we gonna find one of those while we're stuck in a van?"

Sam shrugged and slumped against the wall listening to the engine. They had taken a left then driven for 4 minutes and 38 seconds and taken a right, after 3 minutes they crossed a bridge. Sam kept counting and listening out for anything that might give away where they were. "You got your phone?"

Dean checked his pockets and shook his head. "You?"

Sam nodded "Can't reach though."

Dean groaned, "Where is it?"

"Front left pocket." Dean groaned and reached into his brother's pocket, pulling out his phone, "Call Uncle Bobby."

"Why not dad?"

"Because if the Leshy has all three of us then things will not go well for us."

"Suppose so. But he doesn't pick up I'm calling dad." he dialled Bobby's number and urged to old bastard to pick up. It rang four times until Bobby picked up.

"Dean?"

"Bobby thank god." Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "We need help."

"Why aren't you idjits callin' your old man?"

"Because Sam said something stupid about it being dangerous."

"Well hand me over to Sam."

Dean reluctantly held the phone by Sam's ear "Listen Bobby we really do need help and it'll only get worse if we call dad." Sam recounted to the older hunter exactly where they had been and how many seconds it was between each turn of the car. "If we stop we'll try to let you know."

"Dammit son, I'm about two hours away. There's no way I'll be able to find the van."

"Bobby please!" Sam pleaded.

Bobby could sense the urgency in the young Winchester's voice, "I'll be there in an hour even if it means breaking every speed limit known to man."

"Thanks Bobby. And remember it's a Leshy." Sam let out a sigh of relief. They weren't entirely alone.

The van screeched to a halt sending both boys flying forwards. They heard the Leshy climb out of the cab and unlock the back doors. "Tut tut tut boys." it said still looking like a supermodel, "I'm going to have to confiscate this." the mobile phone flew out of Dean's hand and she crushed it in her powerful grip. She dropped the fragments to the ground and smirked. She dragged Dean over to her and bound his wrists with the same plastic bonds. He kicked her in the chest but stopped the second she had Sam's gun trained on his little brother. "Sit up, both of you. Back to back. Now!" they reluctantly did as they were told. Dean wanted nothing more than to kill this bitch for even daring to threaten Sam. A final plastic tie joined the binds on the boys wrists together. She grinned and locked them back in the van. It grumbled it's way down a narrow country lane and ground to a stop outside an abandoned cotton mill.

"You okay Sammy?" Dean asked growing more concerned for his brother.

"Fine Dean." he said in a flat voice.

The van doors opened for the final time and the beautiful woman shimmered and became the 8 foot beady eyed man once more. He grabbed both boys by the ankles and carried them in-front of him as though they were contagious. They boys were thrown through the open door and landed on the dust covered floor. Dean rolled onto his side so he would stop crushing Sam below him. A pair of feet clad in impossible shiny shoes appeared before them. The boys looked up awkwardly in unison. Dean's muscles tensed and his breathing became heavier and angrier.

"You."