We Make Hot Chicks! ~A Supernatural Fan Fiction.

Where the- how the- WHAT?

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Sammie didn't open her eyes when she woke up.
This.... Doesn't feel right. Her groggy mind thought. She could feel herself laying on a hard, cold floor. Wood. She thought, not in a dungeon or anything.

She felt someone poke her with a... Shoe? To her side. Felt like a shoe. Deana's shoe, Sammie has been poked with that enough times to know. I probably dosed off while reading and fell on the floor, was the logical explanation her mind came up with. But since when was her life logical?

"Ughhhhh, Deana, stop it." Is what she grumbled out when Deana's shoe poke- kicked her again, a little harder this time. Her eyes squeezed shut a tiny bit more.
My sister is the worst human being in all existence.

It was barely audible, but she heard it: "It's alive, Sam, and it can talk." A rough, tough sounding male voice snapped Sammie out of her tired, groggy state.

She also heard a nicer yet equally inaudible voice reply back- "She, Dean, she can talk."

Finally, afraid of what they would be met with, Sammie's eyes slowly opened.

The backs of two pairs of shoes. That's what they were met with. The shoes connected to two pairs of legs, one pair belonging to a bowlegged, tall, blonde man. He had a jacket that, from the back, looked a lot like one of Deana's.

The other pair of shoes were connected to a long pair of legs. The second man was a few inches taller than the other guy, about Sammie's height actually. He had a jacket on identical to one of her own, his hair was long (at least for a guy) and the color was a carbon copy of her's.

They were turned away from her, talking under their breath to each other. Sammie decided that it was now or never. She quietly and gracefully climbed to her feet, knife still at hand, bag still on her back. I'm in the bunker? How'd they get in? Her freaked out brain thought. Just as she turned, deciding where to go, the smaller one turned around.

"Hey!" His angry voice rang out, causing Sammie to freeze. She whipped around before either man could move, holding her knife out in front of her threateningly.

"Don't. Move." She demanded. The bigger one, who Sammie decided was the smart one, stopped. The smaller one just slowed down.

"Look," He said, slowly approaching her. "How about you drop the knife, huh? Then you can tell us why you just appeared in our bunker."

Sammie rolled her eyes and gave him the best bitchface she could muster. "Yeah, asshat, I'm going to drop the only weapon I have." She sassed back.

"You-"

The big one spoke up, cutting blondy off. "Look, we just want to talk. You appeared here, okay? So please, drop the knife and we won't hurt you."
He is smart.... She thought as she stepped back a little from Mr. Asshat, eyeing her knife thoughtfully. Alright, just to make sure they won't hurt me...