Hello again! So, I decided to continue this story, and thanks to all of you who story alerted this and to those of you who commented. The advice helps a lot too, so thanks . Alright then, here's the next chapter
R&R please!
Disclaimer: Still don't own them, sadly
Mine. Mine. Those sheep, they dare to try and take what is not theirs. They infest my new home like parasites, even though he promised. He promised. How stupid to trust words from a sheep's mouth. They lie to everyone and everything. They poison the land they walk on and kill the forest, my home. Mine, not theirs, and yet they still pour through my woods like it's theirs. Foul creatures, stupid creatures, and then there are those two. Ah, yes, those two sheep in wolves' clothing. Hunters. Foolish hunters who dare to hunt the Wolf. Stupid sheep, you know nothing. Fear is a concept I have yet to grasp. You think you can hunt the hunter? No, I shall make you the hunted, worthless sheep, so run with your herd; run straight into the jaws of the Wolf, for I shall be waiting for you, you poor, poor bloody sheep.
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"Morning, Rangers. Glad you could make it here so early. Sorry for the last minute call." Sherriff Dope quipped happily, glancing uninterestedly at the badges Sam and Dean flashed at him.
"Not a problem, Sherriff. Now, you said over the phone that another body was found?" Sam queried, pocketing his badge as he stared down at the Sherriff, who sat cross-legged in the dirt at his feet.
"Yes, yes, of course. This way, gentlemen." The Sherriff said as he pushed up off the ground, his round belly slowing his progress. With a grunt, he was finally upright, standing at about five feet tall and barely coming up to Sam's chest. He looked like a plump blueberry, with his navy-blue police coat and jeans stretched tight around his protruding stomach.
"The victim, Serah Amblewood, was confirmed as one of the hikers who went up the trail a week ago. Same deal with this one as the last, too. Cause of death was blood loss, no doubt from the same animal that did in Jack Allende. It would be a real help if you guys could capture the animal responsible for this already, its scaring away tourists." Sherriff Dope said nervously as he started up the dirt path towards the beginning of the trail, Sam and Dean following closely behind.
"We're trying, Sherriff, but the thing is, is that we still don't know what exactly we're dealing with here. It could be any kind of dangerous animal, and it would be safer if you closed the trail altogether until we've dealt with it. We don't want anyone else getting hurt." Sam replied, walking over to stand behind the Sherriff as he came to a stop by the entrance of the trail.
"Oh. Well I would have earlier, but you know, it's bad for business to close a trail down. Draws unwanted attention to matters that tourists shouldn't be worrying about."
"Actually, that's exactly what tourists should be worrying about, Dope. You're saying that tourists shouldn't worry about a rabid animal killing people on this trail? Yeah, 'cause that makes sense." Dean rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the way the Sherriff was running things.
Sherriff Dope seemed to consider Dean's words before nodding to himself and grunting in what Sam took as agreement. Spinning around, the Sherriff continued walking towards a group of police men standing a few feet away. The police officers milled around the body of the victim, no real goal in mind since as far as they knew, it was just a feral animal doing the killing, meaning no case, and no one to arrest.
"Well, here you have it. Serah Amblewood. Poor thing was barely nineteen. Probably had a boyfriend and everything, and to see her like this…" Sherriff Dope trailed off, biting his lower lip in obvious displeasure and running a shaking hand through his short brown hair.
"We've got it from here, thanks Sherriff. Call us if you find anything else, you never know what might help." Sam nodded at the Sherriff, hoping he would take the hint and leave.
"Oh. Yes, of course, I'll make sure I do. You gentlemen take care now. I'll be on my way, never was very good with blood." He laughed humorlessly and turned, heading back down the trail with a wave.
"Thank God you got rid of him. Man, he rubs me the wrong way, Sammy. I think it's his eyes, all beady and-"
"Dean. Focus." Sam interrupted as he turned back to the mangled body of Serah, stepping closer to get a better look. Dean cut his eyes towards Sam, muttering several more derogatory terms in the Sherriff's direction before trudging after him slowly.
Sam's lips twitched down in disgust as the coppery smell of blood filled his nose. Serah Amblewood was definitely just a teenager, her young face smoothed over in death, and her sightless eyes, once a beautiful sky blue, were glassy and fogged over. Her long amber hair spilled over her shoulders and around her head like a sickeningly familiar halo. She would have been a pretty girl, and no doubt had a boyfriend, but her image was thrown off by the gory, gaping vertical wounds adorning her chest and abdomen. Large bloody holes ran in a crescent shape across her stomach and over the deep claw marks, and matching holes would probably be found marring her back.
"Damn. This is one sick son of a bitch, Sam. We are so ganking its ass, and soon." Dean growled, anger evident in his voice.
"I know, but we still don't know how to kill the Mngwa. Plus, you see what it did? Dean, that thing killed this girl and the other victim with just one swipe of its claws. And you see those holes? I'm betting those are from teeth, which means that this Mngwa can hold a person in its mouth. I don't think jumping into this one unprepared is the right call." Sam said as he turned away from the girl. There wasn't anything else they could gain by looking at the bloody corpse.
"Well how else do you suppose we find any more information on this thing? I think we need to do some searching around the actual forest, up that trail for starters. If this thing is killing hikers and dropping their bodies at the entrance, it obviously means that it doesn't want anyone else coming in. That's why I think we should get in there, you know, straight into the lion's den. Make it come to us." Dean grinned dangerously, following behind Sam as he started back down the trail towards the Impala. "You know, before it goes and kills some other clueless hiker."
"Well that's another thing I don't get. Why is the Mngwa only killing people now? I mean, sure, not that many people ever really took that trail, but still, some had to, right? But there's no record of anyone ever dying from some crazed animal before. It just doesn't make sense, Dean. The Mngwa is super territorial, which is why its offing these people now, but that also means it would have killed anyone else who came up that trail too. It wouldn't let them live." Sam questioned.
"I'll do you one better. What the hell is this…Mingya thing doing here in the first place? Why is it here? Shouldn't it be in…wherever it is Swahili creatures come from?"
"Mngwa, Dean, and they come from Zanzibar, Kenya, Tanzania and north Mozambique, generally."
"You know you're a walking dictionary, Sam. Can't you fill that brain with anything useful?"
"Shut up, and you have a point. I mean, what is it doing here in Minnesota? It shouldn't have been able to even get here. Unless…" Sam trailed off, lost in his thoughts.
"Unless someone brought it here." Dean picked up on his brother's train of thought, snapping his fingers triumphantly.
"Exactly. Someone would have had to bring the Mngwa from Africa, over to the U.S. How they did it, I have no idea. How did they even manage to find it? But anyway, that brings up another question. Why? Why would someone bring a Mngwa to Minnesota? It doesn't make sense." Sam ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Forget 'why', what about 'who'? Who would do that? It's not like the Mingya thing is helping in any way, it's just scaring away tourists." Dean said as they stepped out of the woods and onto the asphalt of the road, walking over to the Impala which stood proudly across the street. He stopped by the driver's side and pulled the door open. "Alright, well let's go grab something to eat before we talk ourselves to death. I'm starved." Dean stated as he slid behind the wheel and shut the door.
Sam's lips lifted in a small smile. His brother always seemed to have food on his mind, no matter what situation they were in.
"You're always starved." Sam walked over to the passenger side and pulled the door open, sliding into the car and tugging the door closed behind him.
The roar of the Impala's engine had birds cawing angrily and taking flight from the trees. Two pink eyes, the color of pale flesh, glared at the retreating black machine with hatred in their depths.
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"You know, Sam, I still think we should get out there and try to at least get a glimpse of the thing. We need to know what we're up against, man, and since all the victims so far were just tourists, no one local knew them, which means we don't have anyone to interview or anything. No witnesses either. The only way we're gonna get any sort of idea of what we're up against is if we go out there and look for the bitch ourselves." Dean said around a mouthful of burger.
They were sitting in a small diner that was conveniently located next to the gas station they had stopped at. Despite its size, the diner was packed full of people, and Sam and Dean were forced to sit in a small booth right next to the bathrooms. The smell alone would have been enough to kill Sam's appetite if he was hungry at all, but the lack of sleep and the nightmares he kept having were enough to stave off hunger. Apparently, though, the god-awful smell had no effect on Dean, who kept shoveling fries into his mouth when it wasn't already occupied with his burger. Maybe the smell from the extra unions was enough to cancel out the stench of the restrooms. Either that, or Dean had an iron stomach. It was probably the former, but Sam wasn't so sure anymore.
"I still don't like the idea, Dean, but I don't think we have much of a choice right now. If we don't do something soon, more people will die. I think the only option we have right now is to go out and try and find the Mngwa before it has a chance to kill anybody else. It's still early, so we should be fine as long as we don't go too deep, but once the sun starts to set? We're booking ass and getting out of there." Sam stated with conviction, leaving no room for argument.
"We will, geez, don't get your panties in a bunch, grandma. I don't want to be out there with that thing at night any more than you do, believe me. I can't have my kid brother getting lost, now can I?" Dean teased.
"Shut up, Jerk. If either of us were to get lost, it would be you. You're the one who can 'barely find your way to a decent pick up line'." Sam teased back, happy to lighten the mood.
"Bitch. You can tell that to me once you're the one bringing all the girls home. And hey, she liked me. I saved her kid, you know." Dean said, wiping his mouth as he finished off the burger and pulled out his wallet. He dropped the money onto the table and gestured at Sam to stand. "Come on, Sam. Let's go, we're burning daylight here."
"You know, Dean, I could get just as many girls as you if I wanted to. It's just that I actually like to have feelings towards the women I kiss." Sam smiled as he stood, waiting for Dean to take the lead before following after him, weaving his way carefully through the crowd of dining customers.
"Aw, come on, Sammy. That takes all the fun out of it." Dean called back at him, smiling when he heard Sam's laughter.
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The sun beat down mercilessly on the forest floor, the trees providing little relief from the blazing heat as they remained stubbornly still, refusing to carry any sort of breeze. Sweat dripped down Dean's back endlessly, and he wondered momentarily if he was going to end up dehydrated from the amount of water he was losing. It dripped down into his eyes, stinging and burning, and he rubbed a hand over his forehead to futilely wipe away the moisture.
"Sam, we've been out here for hours, man. This thing isn't showing." Dean said loudly enough to get his brother's attention. Sam was up the trail, further ahead of him, because apparently the heat didn't bother College Boy.
"Dean its been two hours, that's it. Calm down, it should show itself soon, so be on your guard." Sam replied equally as loud. They had gone up the trail only two hours ago, but it felt like at least five to Dean. They had armed themselves with the standard pistols and iron rounds that they usually took on a hunt for something 'corporeal', as Sam would say, and the comforting weight of the Desert Eagle against his back was the only reason that he let Sam wander ahead of him. The constant chatter of birds and the annoying buzzing of bugs was seriously getting on his nerves though.
"Two hours is long enough in this heat. Come on, Sam, let's just come back tomorrow." He kicked at loose stone and watched as it flew away into the underbrush. The rock bounced away, disappearing into the bushes, and an angry chattering served as his only warning before a red bird of some sort – Sam would know the name – came bursting from the foliage and flew off into the forest. "Sam! Don't ignore me. I will leave your ass here." Only the calls of birds met his ears. "Sam?" Still nothing. Worry started to gnaw at his stomach. "Answer me, man! This isn't funny." The report of a gun succeeded in shooting his worry through the roof.
His feet were running before he even gave the command, and in a matter of seconds he was up the trail with his Desert Eagle drawn out in front of him. The sight that met his eyes had his blood turning to ice in his veins. A huge animal was crouched over the prone form of his brother, blood dripping off its jaw. Curved fangs were bared in a snarl and pink eyes narrowed at the sight of him. Gray fur rippled as the Mngwa turned to face him, its muscles bunching and flexing under the skin.
He chanced a quick glance down at Sam. Blood was already saturating the front of his shirt, and his eyes were closed. Unconscious. White hot fury had his vision turning red as the shock wore off, and he lifted the Eagle to fire off three consecutive rounds into the beast's flesh.
The Mngwa didn't even flinch as the iron rounds punched holes in its legs and torso, crimson blood immediately starting to pour from the ragged wounds. The panther/tiger hybrid growled at him and crouched low to the ground, its haunches in the air and its striped tail whipping back and forth in anger. Dean watched enough of the History Channel (thanks to Sam) to know what that meant, and he was already rolling to one side as the Mngwa pounced at him. What the History Channel didn't tell you, though, was how fucking fast a Mngwa was, and it caught him square in the chest mid-roll. He felt the razorblade claws dig into his chest painfully, drawing blood as he landed on his back in the dirt, the Mngwa on top of him. Biting back the scream that threatened to spill forth, he pulled his gun up and shot the beast straight through its heart.
Dark red blood spurted onto his shirt from the broken muscle and the Mngwa growled in annoyance and leapt off of him, but didn't go down. Apparently Mngwa didn't need hearts. Just his goddamn luck. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, Dean clutched a hand to his bleeding chest and brought his other hand up to point the smoking Eagle at the Mngwa's ugly face, right between its unnerving cotton-candy pink eyes.
The creature's lips curled in what could only be described as a smile, its curved fangs hanging out menacingly. A gray tongue flicked out to lick his little brother's blood from its lips and its eyes dilated in pleasure. A low growl issued forth from the depths of its throat, a jagged and sharp sound, before its whole jaw opened wide. Way too wide.
It looked like the bones were unhinging in its mouth as its jaws opened wider and wider until it seemed like its mandible would just pop clean off. Now he understood how the beast was able to carry a person in its mouth. The damn thing was like a snake, able to stretch its jaws impossibly wide in order to swallow something twice its size. It was also creepy as Hell, and it only got creepier when sounds were suddenly pushing past its gaping jaws.
Words. Words spoken in English, garbled and broken, but words nonetheless.
"Pretty, pretty sheep tastes so good. I shall enjoy eating his sweet flesh. Yes, it tastes like madness and smells like insanity. So pretty and sweet, little sheep." The broken words fell from the Mngwa's mouth like shards of glass, and he wouldn't be surprised if his ears were bleeding from the sound.
"You won't touch him, bitch. I'll kill you first, I swear." Growled Dean possessively, not liking how the creature stood between him and his unprotected brother. The Mngwa laughed then, and it wasn't an evil sound, not the sound a predator makes. No, that would have been better. It was human laughter, a child's giggle. The sound a kid makes when they're giddy with happiness on Christmas morning. Glee filled and falsely disarming. It made Dean cringe in disgust, thoroughly disturbed.
The laughter died down as the Mngwa took a step forward, its lips curling once again in a bloody smile. "Ah, the black sheep. You protect your flock. You lead them. You're stronger than the others, better than the others, but you're still just a sheep to me. Mere prey, and yet you want me to fear you? The Wolf fear a sheep? What twisted thoughts you have, damaged sheep."
The Mngwa was leaping towards him again before it even finished speaking, its metal claws extended towards his unprotected chest.
There was no time to dodge the blow. All Dean had time to do was lift the Eagle an inch and squeeze off one last shot before the claws were in him, tearing and ripping away at his flesh, the claws catching on his ribs. A scream tore its way from his throat as the white hot pain flared over every inch of his body, and he was distantly aware of the sensation of falling. The next thing he knew, he was face down in the dirt, head turned slightly to the side and uncooperative lungs heaving for air. A warm, wet feeling was spreading out beneath him at an alarming rate.
Darkness danced at the edges of his vision, threatening to pull him under. The last thing he saw was the Mngwa's face, its head cocked to the side and a bullet hole directly between its joy-filled pink eyes, still smiling at him. His last thought was of Sam, unprotected and possibly dead on the ground just two feet away from him, and he couldn't even gather the strength to move over and die next to him. Then the darkness engulfed his vision and mind, dragging his consciousness down with it, and he knew no more.
So that's it for Ch. 2, not too happy with this one, I feel like I may have rushed things at some parts, and I have this thing where I'm never happy with anything I write, so forgive me if this chapter sucks :P Still trying to find my legs here, so yeah, thnx for readin – Thorn