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(Warning: contains slight sexual content at the end!)
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"Alright guys," I say, clapping my hands. "It's time to clean up!"
The kids began to clean up their mess of crayons, paint, glitter, and just about any other craft supply you could imagine. Mother's Day was coming up, and every teacher was having their students make cards for their mothers.
One of the kids had spilled paint on the floor, so I grabbed some paper towels and began cleaning it up. Being a first grade teacher wasn't exactly glorious, but I wouldn't give it up for anything.
"Ms. Scott!" a boy named Trey called, running over to me. "There's two men at the door."
"Okay, thank you." I smile, getting up to throw away the paper towels. "Can you let them in?"
"Ms. Scott?" a deep voice asked, and I turned around.
"That's me-" I answer, stopping dead in my tracks when I saw who the voice belonged to.
"Casey?" Sam asked, just as surprised as I was.
"What are you guys doing here?" I ask, looking between Sam and Dean.
"We're on a case," Dean answers, pulling me in for a hug. I hug him back and Sam shifts awkwardly where he's standing.
"Are you here about Thomas?" I ask.
"Yeah," Sam says. "We heard that kids have been falling into comas left and right."
"Do you know anything that might help?" Dean asks. "I mean, Thomas was your student after all."
"He was just a normal kid," I shrug. "There was nothing off about him before he was checked into the hospital."
"He was found outside, near the playground, right?" Dean asks, and I nod.
"Do you guys know what you're hunting?" I ask.
"It's called a Shtriga," Sam answers. "It's kind of like a witch. They feed off of 'spiritus vitae', which is basically your vitality. They prefer children because they have a stronger life force."
"Great," I say. "How do we kill it?"
"That's my girl," Dean smirks.
"Consecrated iron," Sam says. "But it's only vulnerable when it's feeding."
"We're gonna try to take this thing down tonight," Dean says.
"I'm coming with." I tell them.
"No, you're not." Sam scoffs. "It's too dangerous."
"Excuse me?" I laugh. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't asking."
