The Beasts of Yellowstone

Chapter 1

Sam Winchester wasn't having the best day of his life so far. While it wasn't the worst day either, not by a long shot, it could've been a whole lot better.

For starters, it was raining. He didn't usually mind the summer rain, but it was annoyingly cold even with the warmth of Bobby's house in Sioux Falls. It was summer, darn it, it should be warm.

Next up was Dean. His brother had drank the beer that Sam had been saving exactly for a day like this. Currently, the eldest Winchester was outside in the yard, probably working on Baby, his beloved Impala. Why he would purposefully stand out in the cold for this long was a mystery to Sam.

Sam flipped the page of the book he was reading. Something about demons, he had no idea. He'd zoned out half an hour ago and caught none of the words on the page. Sam leaned back into the couch and rubbed his eyes. What time is it again? His watch said 3:40 P.M. 

Sam leaned forward again, resting his head on his hand. He yawned. Time felt more like molasses than, well, time. He needed something to do. Maybe a small hunt.

The front door banged open and Sam perked his head up. Maybe there was something interesting. Nope, just Dean, soaking wet.

"Sup, jerk," the soggy man said. "Any pie in the house?"

"Shut it, bitch. And there isn't. Go change, you're gonna flood the whole house if you don't."

Dean heaved an overdramatic sigh and stomped up the stairs to the bathroom. "Tell me there's at least some beer in this godforsaken place."

Sam sighed. "No, no there is not, because you drank the rest of it this morning. Including mine."

"You idjits are ones going to the store to restock my kitchen before you leave, not me, you got that?" Bobby had appeared in the doorway to his study, holding at least five books.

"Yup," Sam said. "We'll get right on that." 

Bobby listened for silence from upstairs. "Got anything yet? 'Bout your brother's deal?"

Sam grimaced and shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. I can't find anything anywhere. Not in your books, not even the internet has anything. According to history, not a single human being has managed to escape a demon deal."

"Well, boy, time's a-tickin'. We better find somethin'. Soon."

"Yeah..." Sam heard footsteps upstairs. "We'll find something. I'm not letting him go to hell."

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean shouted as he basically jumped down the stairs. "Feel like takin' a trip to the store?"

Sam snapped his book closed and stood up. "Sounds good, let's head out."

"Cuz I feel like some pie!" Dean grabbed his flip phone from he left it on a shelf. "Ha!"

Sam followed his brother out the door and into the rain.

Dean opened the driver's side door of the Impala and got in, Sam following suit on his side. The car's motor gave the telltale rumble, and the radio clicked on, continuing the station it was on. 

"Carry on my wayward son!
There'll be peace when you are done!
Lay your weary head to rest!
Don't you cry - no - more!"

The drive to the nearest convenience store was mostly silent except for Dean occasionally singing the lyrics to the current song under his breath. Sam zoned out again, watching the rain roll down the windshield, the music half-blurring to his ears.

Inside the store, Dean made a beeline for the pastry racks and Sam picked up two cases of beer and some fruit. Despite his protests, Dean couldn't survive on beer, pie, and cheeseburgers alone.

Sam took in the posters taped to the windows of the store. There were ads for lawn-mowing services, a couple of lost pet posters, and an announcement for an upcoming ballet recital for the dance studio nearby. It was normal stuff, almost painfully so. 

Someone poked Sam in the arm and he jumped.

"You've been out of it all day," Dean said. He handed a shopping bag to Sam. "Are you good?"

"Yeah... just a slow day, y'know?"

Dean nodded. "Same over here."

As they approached the register, Dean snatched a couple of snacks off a nearby shelf and put them in his bag, which they then placed on the counter. 

"We need a case," Dean announced as the cashier rung up their items. "We've been stuck in Bobby's house too long. Hopefully, something a bit more normal too, after what happened in Indiana with Lisa and those changeling kids."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Sam said as he gathered the shopping bags that had already gotten rung up. 

The cashier turned toward the TV above the counter as Dean got ready to swipe his credit card. He turned up the volume, his eyebrows furrowing.

Sam looked up too. On the screen, an image of a snarling wolf with bright golden eyes was accompanied by the text, "YELLOWSTONE WOLF ATTACKS HAVE CLAIMED 20 LIVES IN 2 WEEKS AND COUNTING."

"That doesn't sound good," the cashier muttered. "Good thing we don't live too close to there."

The golden-eyed wolf disappeared and was replaced with a video. The screen proclaimed it was footage recovered from one of the victims. Five wolves were attacking the cameraman. Their eyes were clear, shining gold, and their mouths were wide and gaping, full of fangs, but no foam dripped from them. They weren't rabid or starving, which was strange. Wolves rarely attacked humans unless they had no food or were diseased. 

This was very strange, but it was the next clip that made Sam realize just how strange. Just before the camera flicked to static, the symbol of a wolf face glowed gold above the human's still body.

Sam looked at Dean, who had obviously made the same observation. 

"Dude, I think we got a case."

Dean swiped his credit card and snatched the bags from the counter. 

"ThankyouverymuchBYE!" Sam shouted and they hurried out the door. 

Dean drove back to Bobby's a bit faster than normal. The brothers burst through Bobby's door, dumping the bags on the table and hurrying to the study. 

Sam grabbed his laptop and hurriedly entered 'Yellowstone wolf killings' into the search bar.

"What's all this ruckus about?" Bobby asked.

"Found a case," Dean muttered, keeping his eyes trained on the screen.

Sam clicked on a news article and scanned it as Bobby sighed and started putting away the groceries.

"So, get this." Sam closed the laptop. "In the past two weeks, there have been twenty wolf-related deaths in Yellowstone. All of the bodies have been found in the same two-mile radius around an area in the park called 'Tower Falls.' The only footage there is of an attack was in that video on the news. A lot of people are speculating, but no one has any solid evidence on what could be going on. What's more is that if the attacks don't stop, the wildlife services are considering removing wolves from the park altogether, whether it be by just sending them away or by... massacring them all."

The men all glanced at each other, thinking about the information.

"We're not letting more innocent people-- and possibly wolves-- die." Dean stood up.

"Then, boys, seems you've gotten yourselves a case. Better go pack," Bobby said. 

"I call the green duffle!" Dean shouted, dashing out of the room.

"Wha-- hey, no, you got the big one last time!" Sam called and raced after him. "It's my turn now! Come on, hand it over!"

Bobby sat on his desk chair as his boys shouted.

"I'm older!" "So what, I'm taller!"

"Idjits," he muttered, but with a half-smile on his face.