"Is the luck buffering or...?"
Pulling up outside of a worn-down apartment building Dean rolls the car to a stop beside the vehicle we've been searching for. Leaning outside his window to get a better view at the silver sedan, Dean hums "Connecticut plates. Last three digits 880."
"Yep", Sam voices "That's it."
Chuckling, Dean slides back into the car "Should've blacked out their license plates before parking in front of a security camera."
"I wouldn't be feeling too smug about it", I caution Dean, fiddling with my gun in the back "You're going to want to pray they haven't opened that box."
Parking the Impala out front we jog over to the dingy looking building. Guns out I can't help but notice the blood-stains in the hallway. Assuming the blood is from the man shot up in John's unit I believe we've got the right location. Three stories up we find the apartment which belongs to our two men- the police were rather helpful in locating the records. Considering the only others who live here are poor families, senile elders or a single army medic we figure the two young men would be our best bet. And breaking quietly into their apartment I'd say we're right. Our guns raised we stalk carefully along the hall, Sam clearing a room before we move on.
"Royal Flush Grossman!" one man proudly beams whilst the other audibly complains in contempt "That's the second Royal Flush in eight hands!"
"Yeah" The man sourly mutters "This is a lot of fun."
"I can't lose! I mean really! I can't lose!" He continues to excitably shout through the apartment, his words echoing down to us. "Maybe this thing really works? You know what I'm saying?" My eyes widen at the mention of the objects. They've opened it. Those idiots actually opened the curse box. "I tell you something. There's no way in Hell we are handing it over to that stuck up bitch now- not after all we've been through. Let's go huh? Let's go and have some fun with this-"
At the mention of them leaving Dean's the first around the corner, Sam swiftly following suit as I step out last. My gun raised I move around one end of the sofa while Sam and Dean take the other, Dean's booming voice making the two-man leap to their feet "FREEZE! FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!" Their hands fly up in surrender at the sight of us, expressions wary and paled "STOP!"
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Solivagant
FanfictionSo-li-va-gant ~Latin Someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer. Following seasons 1-3 of Supernatural. Book One of the Solivagant series. 🥇 in bobbysinger 06/04/2020 #16 in teamfreewill 06/04/2020 #16 in angels 09/03...