Phoenix

Dumb Kidnappers

Sam Winchester

The university was about a mile off the main highway. It was hidden by a few trees, but once I passed them it became noticable quickly.

I could tell it had been around for some years maybe even decades. The vines had grown up towards the third floor. The vines almost looks engraved into the building.

I parked the car and got out. Now being the tall, muscular guy I was, that was quite a challenge. Dean was lucky he was short. Otherwise, he would hate getting in and out of this car, but Dean loved this car. If he could, he would sleep here instead of motels when we go on trips.

I closed the car door and button my jacket up. The steps to the college were just a few. There was a few tables around the entrance, which I suppose were inhabitable due to the broken legs and missing chairs.

It was Tuesday, but the building seem to be completely empty. Plus, there were no cars in the parking lot. There was a logical reason behind this. I'm sure.

The main doors of the school were locked. I considered the thought of picking the locks, but I didn't. I sure there was another entrance. Maybe one for the janitor, but by the looks of this place, it needed more than a janitor.

I moved along the side the building and found a cart. It was definitely the janitor's cart by the scent of bleach, but the blood caught my eye first. I drew my gun from my side and placed it firmly in front of my chest.

"Goddamn blade." A voice mumbled. I rounded the corner and caught an older man wiping blood away from his finger.

I cleared my throat to catch the man's attention.

His head snapped up. He was a short man with a salt and pepper beard. I removed my gun away from the air as I walked towards the man.

"Are you ok?" I questioned. The man mumbled a word and tied the cloth around the wound.

"Trying to cut open a package, I cut myself. I have so many scars from working here." The man said.

"Um, I'm FBI," I said showing him my badge. "Agent Waston." I said my fake name as the old man watched me.

"You're probably here because of the fires. Yeah, I knew you guys would show up." The old guy said. He picked up his things and walked past me. "You knew I was coming? How?" I asked.

"I know a hunter when I see one." He laughed before continuing. "1629. Witches came to this town in search of a place to settle down. Instead, they got more trouble. Once members of their coven were murdered, they made deals with the town's people. They wouldn't use their magic." The old man laughed a little.

"But they did. Didn't they?" I asked. Maybe this man can help. He probably read up on the town's old days and thought I could help.

"The Grand Coven don't believe in deals."

The Grand Coven? Rowena MacLeod.

"Anyway, they figured they would continue their practices with one child per generation. I guess that's what's happening here." The old man and I started walking down the path to the street.

"How did you know all this?" I asked as the man turned and looked at me.

"My family studied stuff like that for years. I'm the last of my family." He stopped and looked me in the eye. "The last Hunter."

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Alicia Grant

Agent Blackbird had left. Well, he was outside of my door, talking to a guy with a bad taste in fashion.

I laid in the bed on my side and stared at the wall.