SUPERNATURAL. in which a girl - bek anderson - is found on the side of the road. 8 years later, she has no recollection of her life before that until a pair of brothers walk into the bar. together they hunt the supernatural - saving people, hunting...
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ SAM, COULD YOU BE MORE GAY? ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ( Bedtime Stories )
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THE IMPALA RACES DOWN the road, right over a toad. "I don't understand, Dean. Why not?" Sam asks his brother. "Because I said so." Dean responds.
"We got the Colt now."
"Boys." Allison says slowly, placing a hand on her head. She found herself saying 'boys' a lot in the Impala. "We can summon the crossroads demon, pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal. We'll just shoot her! If she dies, the deal goes away!" Sam raises his voice.
"We don't know if that will work either, Sam! All you're pitching me is a bunch of 'ifs' and 'maybes'! That's not good enough! Because if we screw with this deal, you die!"
"And if we don't screw with it, you die!"
"Sam, enough! I'm not gonna have this conversation!"
"Why not? Because you said so?"
"Yes, because I said so!"
"You're not dad!"
Dean looks over at Sam and Allison eyes widened a little bit. "No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. You got to let this go. You understand me?" It goes quiet. To break the awkward silence, Allison clears her voice. "Okay, uhm, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer."
Sam pulls out the newspaper. "The psychotic killer rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity." Sam reads.
"Did it mention anything of his razor-sharp teeth or his 4-inch claws, animal eyes?" Dean says sarcastically.
"No. The Lunar cycles right." Sam whispers. Allison sat quietly in the back, her mind on Scott McCall. When it came to werewolves, that name was the first thing to pop into her mind. Werewolves were very common in the Supernatural world but she couldn't help it.
"Look," she speaks up, "if it is a werewolf, we don't have long. Moons full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month."
"Two days. No sweat." Dean breathes out, pressing a little harder on the gas pedal so that the Impala would go faster.
THEY STOOD IN A hospital, in front of the victim that survived the attack within the previous week. "I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page and Detective Pratt," the three hunters held up their fake badges to the man, "We're with the county sheriffs department."
"Yeah, I've been expecting you." He says. He had a claw scratch just above his left eyebrow and his arm was in a cast. "You have?" Dean asks.
"All morning. You are the sketch artists, right?" He asks them. The three undercover hunters stutter a moment before Allison nods, "Uh . . . absolutely. Yeah, that is exactly who he is." she offers a smile and pats Sam's shoulder.
