Disclaimer: My dog just said no! Seriously he did! …or maybe it was just ruff…. I can't be sure.

A/N: Hello my loyal readers! …or not so loyal by this point. Haha, I wouldn't blame you either way. I suck at updating this thing lately! Though in my defence, I did start my job back up, and so for several months I've been skidooing across lakes, flying in planes and driving way too much for my own good (I think my butt went numb!). But enough about me and my issues, haha.
This story is one that was an idea from two things. One was the movie 'The Night Before Christmas' where in the song, there's the line 'I am the who when you call who's there'. I thought that was an awesome line. The other inspiration was my best friend Lisa who gave me the major plot of this story. Anyways, that's all for now- enjoy!
Oh wait! Don't go yet, haha. I almost forgot- I want you guys to give me some story ideas. I have some still, but I am badly running short of muse, so I'm hoping that if you guys can give me some ideas, it will help give me more options. Thanks!
…now you can enjoy the story!

Title: I Am The Who
Genre: Suspense
Summary: A mysterious spirit that kills while the victim sleeps, and Sam Winchester won't wake up…

I Am The Who

"It is just a story," the words were comforting, and yet exasperated at the same time.

"But-"

"No buts," he smiled at his young daughter, "It is just a story meant to scare kids. Now go to sleep."

She nodded meekly as she pulled the covers up higher to her chin. As her Dad pulled the door nearly completely closed, her small nightlight cast out ominous shadows through the room. Everything was quiet as her eyes darted around, searching for something she was told wasn't there. Searching for what she had been told hid in that hotel room waiting for the person to go to sleep so they could crawl into their bed and slice up their slumbering bodies.

"It's just a story," she whispered, refusing to shut her eyes, "It's just a story."

A small rustling broke the silence, and with it her heart jumped in fear.

"The trees," she assured herself quickly, "J-Just the trees."

She was seven, and yet rationality was something she comprehended and clung onto in times of doubt. Anything that couldn't be explained rationally couldn't be true. The scratching and whispering of wind was easy enough to explain away, and so she slowly let her eyes close in a meagre attempt to prompt sleep. The scratching and creaking were becoming some sort of twisted lullaby as she drifted slowly into slumber when a sudden thought caused the young girl to sit up in fear. She had thought the noise on her window was just the tree branches.

Then she realized it was a calm night.

"No…" she swallowed the stiff feeling in her mouth as the sound vibrated through her room, "No… Who…Who's there?"

"Me."

...

"This is dumb Sam," Dean said for the umpteenth time, "Really, very, incredibly dumb."

"So?" Sam shrugged from his hunched over position at the trunk of the Impala, "Dumb works for us."

"Works for you," Dean corrected, "Dumb for me usually ends up with my ass in jail or the hospital."

"As long as we get this thing, it doesn't matter," Sam spoke flatly.

"Speak for yourself," Dean muttered, taking the shotgun which his brother handed him, "I don't feel like being anyone's Bubba or missing out on two weeks of my life lying in a hospital bed."

This got a grin out of Sam as he closed the trunk shut with his own things in hand, "Then I guess you better not screw it up huh?"

"Your ass is the one that's going to be sleeping in the room," Dean reminded as they got to the hotel suite, "I'll sleep outside in the living area," he paused as they unlocked the place and stepped in, "With you being geek research boy, I'm surprised you didn't look into this more."

"We didn't have a choice," Sam dumped their stuff on one of the two sofas, "With the rumours going on about this hotel suite, it's pretty much a hundred percent booked. We got in for just this night because of a last minute cancellation."

"What's the low down again?"

Sam repeated what he'd memorized, "For about a month now whenever anyone has booked this suite, and slept in that room they report strange things happening. Scratching on the windows, creaking of the floor, and even voices. They all end up leaving before morning. All except three people. All three died of heart attacks; the latest being a seven year old girl."

"You're telling me that they actually think that a seven year old had a heart attack?" Dean frowned.

"They're saying it was an undiagnosed heart problem," Sam supplied.

"So now what?" Dean smirked, "You're going to sleep in there, and wait until the Bogey Man gets you?"

"Yup."

"Next thing you know the Easter Bunny is going to start hammering people with eggs."

Sam rolled his eyes. He had no intentions of sleeping that night as he lay in bed three hours later; shotgun tucked beside him under the covers. He faked the motions in hopes that whatever was haunting the place wasn't too bright, and by the time he and Dean were set up for the night, it was nearly three in the morning. All was quiet at first, though it took only fifteen minutes for small scratches to start.

"Damn…" Sam whispered.

A creak of the floor, and faint whisper caused Sam to clutch his gun, ready to swing off the covers at a moments notice. He knew Dean was waiting wide awake just outside the door for any sign of distress, though as the minutes ticked by an odd sense of fear and dread swam through the hunter. The whispers became louder, and instead of clutching the weapon, Sam let go.

"Who's there?" Sam stared out into the darkness of the room.

"Me."

The voice came from the opposite side the bed sat. Slowly Sam sat up, his body trembling slightly as he looked more carefully. The feeling of fear became obscured by curiosity as a figure walked out from the darkness.

"I am the who when you call who's there…" the voice was whispered and shockingly familiar.

The mirrored image of Sam walked out, a haunting smirk on his face as he stared at his counterpart sitting on the bed.

"No…" Sam gasped, "No… what…?"

"You're too late," the evil took another step closer, "You're already dead."

Sam opened his mouth to shout out, though before he could, a loud yell and shot from a gun broke the silence.

"Sammy, no!"

Like waking from a bad dream, Sam gasped in the stale hotel air as he sat up in a start. Pain shot harshly through his chest as he starred around confused. The light was on in the room with Dean staring in shock from the doorway; shotgun in hand.

"Sam…" Dean whispered out.

"Dean," Sam gasped, his hand coming up to clutch the sweat laden shirt he had on, "…what…"

"Don't move," Dean's voice quivered as he stepped into the room, "Stay still."

Sam watched, his heart hammering in his chest, as Dean walked fully into the room and moved towards the corner where the apparition had been. Carefully Dean pulled out an EMF meter in his pocket and turned it on. The device was silent, and only then did the hunter turn towards his brother.

"Sammy… dude tell me you're okay," Dean walked slowly over to the bed.

"Yeah," Sam swallowed hard, "Dean… what happened?"

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and moved his brother's hand away from his chest, "Lift the shirt."

Sam smirked as he did what he was told and repeated the question, "What happened?"

Dean looked at the harsh red marks which covered Sam's chest, "I heard you start to gasp, and called your name. When you didn't answer, I came in, and…"

"Good choice," Sam tried to keep the mood light as he looked over his brother.

"Yeah, well…"

"I take it we got rid of the thing?" Sam questioned as he forced his way to his feet, "I mean when you went and shot it, was that the demon, or is it going to take something more than just shooting him?"

"Yeah, it will," Dean confirmed, "I think it's going to be a burn the bones and salt it, but I think that it will have to be done tomorrow because you look like crap, and I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I'm fine," Sam insisted, "I swear. I just feel really tired is all."

"Yeah, I don't blame you," Dean held onto the side of Sam's arms as he lead him out of the room, "C'mon, lets get you out of here."

"Okay," Sam readily agreed, "But I swear to God if the fricken Easter Bunny comes out next, I'm shooting it."

The End.