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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: "If he kills us, I am whooping your ass in the afterlife." 💫✦🌺
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RONALD RESNICK'S PORCH glistened with the aftermath of the recent bout of Milwaukee rain. He was the hunters' latest stop in their efforts to solve a case of strange robberies and suicides.
Venus straightened her trench coat as she hopped off her bike, turning to where the boys had just stepped out of the Impala.
"Fucking cops," Dean grumbled.
"They were just doing their jobs," Sam disputed.
Venus walked over to join them in the trek up the short stairs. "No they're doing our jobs, only they don't know it so they suck at it," she grinned.
"Talk to me about this bank," Dean said to Sam.
"Milwaukee National Trust," he began to explain, "It was hit about a month ago."
Venus nodded. "Same M.O. as the jewelry store?"
"Yup, inside job, longtime employee, the 'never in a million years' type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide."
"This guy, Resnick, was the security guard on duty?" asked Dean.
"Yeah, he was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place," Sam informed them.
"Oof," Venus winced, looking around at the small home.
Sam raised a fist and loudly knocked on the front door. "Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" he called out in a booming official tone.
Venus straightened her blouse collar and waited for a response only to be hit with the brightest light she'd ever seen. She instantly slammed her eyes closed and raised her palms to cover her eyes. She could damn near feel it burning her retinas.
"Son of a—" Sam grunted, using a hand to shield his face.
Eventually, a heavy-set man with long curly hair came to the door, eyes examining each of them hesitantly.
