•| ℂ𝔼𝕃𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕀𝔸𝕃 𝔹𝕃𝕆𝕆𝔻 |•

· ñînè ·

We had all lost our appetite after discovering what we did about the witch, so Sam threw the food in the fridge, and we all sat down to discuss why he would want their souls while we waited for it to get dark.

"Maybe for a spell?" Asked Sam.

I thought for a moment. "I don't think so. The only spells that I can think of that would require a soul are an immortality spell and a spell that lets you be any creature you want to be for 48 hours. He's a witch so he's already immortal, and he doesn't exactly sound like the type to want to be a vamp for a day."

"What if he's working with a demon? He gets to put women and men in what he believes their place is, kills them if they fight to much, then a demon get the souls. But why he would work with a demon is my question," Dean said.

"That makes the most sense. But you're right- what would compel a witch to work with a demon?" Asked Sam.

I thought back to the previous case files I had seen, picturing the crime scene in my head.

"Hellhounds. At some of the locations where bodies have been found, deep scratches in the dirt or trees could be found. They always looked somewhat fresh, but because all the sites are in the woods, the cops always wrote it off as bears. I never looked into it to much," I said.

"So he made a deal, and now has to claim souls and give them to a demon to evade hellhounds?" Asked Dean.

"How old is this guy? Do you even know his name?" Asked Sam, looking at me.

"He's got to be about a hundred-and-fifty years old, which explains his old patriarchal view of things, and he's used many names over the years. The only one I know for sure he's used is Lance Knight. My guess on the whole deal is that he wanted the women around him to kniw their place and to obey him like slaves, so he made a deal. When time ran out, he became a witch- only to realize that didn't stop the dogs of death, so he made another deal with the demon- get it souls and he lives," I said. It felt good to finally get some more knowledge on this guy.

Dean looked over to the window, my eyes following him.

"Well, it's dark now. Ready to go?" He asked.

"Hold on," I said, rushing over to my bag and grabbing a few of the hair ties I had brought with me out of a small, hiden section.

I took down my hair, shaking it loose, then quickly put it back up in a ponytail.

I put one hair the around my wrist, then threw the other two to the boys.

Dean caught it, and furrowed his eyebrows, confused, Sam doing the same.

"Uh, why?" Asked Sam, looking.

"They're enchanted. No humans will be aboe to see or hear us, or things that we leave behind like footprints. Sadly, Lance is another story," I said, explaining the hair ties.

"What about cameras?" Asked Sam.

"Nothing will be seen."

Dean shrugged, then slipped his over his wrist.

Sam followe suit.

As Dean got up from his chair to make sure he was ready to go, I went over to my messenger bag, checking for the millionth time today that everything was in there.

Without saying a word, the three of us headed out onto the trail that led to the thick of the woods.

It was dark, but the full moon lit up the forest floor, giving us no use for a flashlight.

My eyes darted from side to side, taking in every sight and sound, and if I had to guess, the boys were doing the same.

Eventually, Dean stepped off the trail, Sam and I following without question.

The only noises werw those of the woods, and the sound of Sam, Dean, and I breathing.

After a few minutes, we had gone through a particularly thick patch of trees and found a small, almost empty space.

My eyes darted around, looking for any signs.

With the help of the moonlight, I was able to spot four straight lines that were deeply gouged into the side of a tree.

"Guys," I whispered, pointing them out.

"Hellhounds. He's been through here lately. They don't look to fresh, so it probably happened a few days ago," said Dean as he walked over and ran his fingers over them.

"That would be correct," said a voice to my left.

Sam, Dean, and I all spun in that direction.

There, with a mischievous grin on his face, stood Lance.