Dean was jostled awake by his cellphone buzzing across the nightstand. "Oh, for fucks sake..." he groaned and reached for the device. Squinting, he stared sleepily at the caller ID and then answered the call.
"Dean?"
"Hey, Sam." Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Rubbing his face, he then placed the phone back to his ear.
"It sounds like you got the shit kicked out you."
Dean scoffed and chuckled.
"Not exactly... But I did get to take a look at the crime scene. It..." A shiver ran down his back as he recalled the bloody room. "Claw marks all across the floor. The bedroom was destroyed. I did," he said and stood, walking over to the table and picking up the fur, "find evidence of an animal?" Dean snapped a picture of it and texted it to Sam.
"I'll look into it, see if it fits with anything. As for James, his life has some interesting history in it. The bars he would bounce for? They have ties to the Greek Mafia. I'm not sure if we want to mess with this..."
Dean stopped for a brief moment before pressing forward in the conversation.
"Sam, the table wouldn't have lit up if it was just human bullshit. There's something going on here. You didn't see that house, that man was torn to shreds."
Dean heard Sam sigh and go quiet.
"Okay. I believe you. Let me do some research into that picture you sent me and see if there's anything else I can dig up for you." The call ended and Dean took a deep breath as he started his day.
Dean spent his day roaming around Philadelphia, attempting to track down the bars that James used to bounce at. Pulling into a metered parking area, Dean cut the engine and watched curiously as police started taping off an alley.
Shrugging, he almost dismissed it before his eyes caught sight of the body before it was covered by a crime scene tarp. Grabbing his knife, he tucked it into his inner jacket pocket and exited the vehicle. Paying for the meter, he discreetly walked by the taped off area, blending into the growing curious crowd and taking in what visual information he could.
"This is an active crime scene, please move along," the officer called, dispersing some of the crowd that had gathered. Dean walked up to the tape and the office held up a hand to stop him. "Sir, please." Dean flashed a smile and produced a badge.
"I'm from the FBI field office. They've taken an interest in this case," Dean said confidently and the office paused for a moment. Taking the badge, the officer looked between it and Dean multiple times before handing it back to him.
Dean ducked under the tape and approached the tarp, the body wedged between the dumpster and the building wall. Kneeling down, he used a piece of trash to gently lift the tarp and almost instantly regretted it.
Eviscerated.
Dean dropped the tarp and pressed his fist to his mouth as he stood. Peering down the alley, he took note of a steel door that had light scratches around the base of it. Returning his attention to the body, he walked back to the police tape and took his leave of the scene.
Nodding thanks to the officer, he walked down the street a bit before crossing and then returning to the Impala.
Returning to the motel, Dean quickly went inside and removed his phone from his jacket. Dialing Sam, he pressed the phone against his ear and waited.
"Hey, Dean."
"Sam, this thing just killed again last night while I was checking out the house. It moved into the main city and the police have another body." Sam went quiet before answering him.
"Okay, well, I might have an answer for you. Considering the first victim's connection to the Greek Mafia, I started looking into Greek lore and mythology. Have you heard of a manticore?" Dean raised an eyebrow at the name.
"A manti-what?"
"Manticore, Dean. It's a creature from Greek lore; it's described as having reddish fur and three sets of teeth. From the looks of it, they can be killed easily, but are fast and like to burrow and hide."
Dean took a moment as he sat on the bed, trying to process the information.
"Well, shit."
Once night had fallen, Dean packed up a go bag and returned to the alley that evening. Now being able to park closer to the alley entrance, he exited the car and grabbed his bag. Shouldering the pack, he walked over to the now fallen police tape and entered the alley.
Shining his flashlight, he saw the door he noticed earlier was already ajar with a brick preventing it from closing. Stopping, he held his back to the wall next to the door and waited for any signs that may have told him that the occupant was nearby.
Satisfied that he wasn't going to surprise himself or anyone on the way in, Dean slipped into the building with his gun and flashlight drawn.
Shining the light around the immediate room, he could see that the building had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered absolutely everything, revealing the footprints that led deeper into the structure. Taking a pause, Dean kneeled and took a closer look at the prints. "Boots..." he whispered to himself and followed the prints with his flashlight until they disappeared around a corner.
Dean slowly made his way through the building, stepping over discarded materials and following the tracks he found on the floor. Something clattered above him, and he swung his flashlight up to the ceiling. Tracking the trails of falling dust, he moved himself into a doorway.
The noise and dust stopped, and he took a moment to listen, making sure nothing was moving around the section he was in. Turning into the room he was in the doorway of, Dean took a step forward and felt the floorboard give slightly, causing the wood to groan and give away his position.
"Fuck."
