𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥 , supernatural

[22] a familiar face

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ; A FAMILIAR FACE
season 2 episode 9
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THE ROADS WERE EMPTY, not another person in sight or even a running car. It had only been a few hours ago that this place was alive and working but not appeared to be a sort of ghost town. It gave Dean an eerie feeling, putting him on edge.

The first car Dean spotted on the side of the road, he figured that it was worth checking out. It appeared to have been abandoned, the drivers side door left open as if they had left in a rush. Dean pulled up behind it, and got out of his car—his gun gripped tight in his hands.

The closer he got, the more chaos he saw. The car was not quickly abandoned, there had been a fight. The drivers seat was covered in dripping blood, it covered the wheel and the seat, soaking into the fabric. The window was smashed in on the drivers side, appearing that the door was pried open.

There was no body, but there was a knife—a know coated in blood sitting on the ground. Possibly used in this fight, Dean looked it at but didn't get to examine it much longer before he heard a gun cock, and his body movements froze.

"Turn around!" It was a man, with a deep angry voice but the fear in his voice was evident. Dean stood tall, keeping his arm to his side to mask the the gun that was in his grip as he turned around.

Dean came face to face with a man, who looked older than him. He had jet black hair that looked well kept but as if right now was a little bit of a mess from the stress of everything that was happening.

The man gestures to the horror of a mess inside the car, and with a shaky voice asked, "Did you do this?"

"I found it like this—I swear." Dean told him, and kept an honest front, hoping that the man would be able to see that Dean was being genuine. To take it even further, Dean casually put his gun into his pants and raised his hands—revealing the lack of blood that coated them.

He can see that the man is shaken up, that there was an immense pain behind his eyes and part of Dean found that worrisome. People in pain can be some of the most dangerous kind of people, and Dean wasn't sure what this man was about to do.

"Tha—that's my wife's car." He choked out slightly before he started to shake his head, trying to convince himself that Dean was lying. Like he needed someone to blame, and that he needed to get his grief out on something.

Before either of them could react there was someone suddenly jumping out from the nearby tree line. Running up behind the man who held his gun pointed at Dean, Dean couldn't even warn him in time before this man was knocked over the head and shoved to the ground.

Dean reached for his gun quickly, only to have his wrist gripped tightly from behind by yet another man. This man was large, about the same height as Sam but just broader. His hand gripped Dean's wrist so tightly that it caused his muscles to instinctively drop the gun, watching it fall to the ground. Then, a second after, he felt the back of his knee get kicked causing him to drop to his knees. Follow by the barrel of a gun press against the back of his head.

"Nice try." The man behind him mocked, seeing as Dean never even got a chance to try before he was brought to his knees and held at gunpoint.

All Dean could do was watch as the man he was speaking to, with the jet black hair, was being lifted slightly from the ground by the collar of his shirt and dragged roughly against the side of the car. Now, he still remained on the ground but was in an upright position as this other mysterious man stood crouched in front of him.