So I'm going to go ahead and put up my latest story. This story is already written, so uploads should come regularly. I'm also not going anywhere, so unlike my last story its not all going up in one day. -wink wink-

Disclaimer: We all know the Winchesters can't be "owned", so I'm not making any money, just having a lot of fun.
Spoilers: I make mentions of Season 2, but this really doesn't follow the same timeline. There isn't any mentions of the S2 finale, so we're good there.
Notes: There's some language, but not too much. There might also be some slightly gory crime scenes, however I have a bit of a weak stomach for gore so if I can write it, you can read it. I've put them in 'Aubrey, IL'...just a made up name for a standard small town. -smiles- My updates aren't normally this long, but I'm uploading chapters 1 and 2 together, they seemed kind of short by themselves. Hope you enjoy!


Chapter 1...The Eye of the Storm

They stepped around the wreckage, unable to believe what lay before them. A whole block of houses…incinerated in a moment according to the few surviving witnesses. Sam shook his head in pity…Dean shook his in anger. In a housing area that large, there was probably close to a hundred, if not two hundred deaths. Searchers were just now scraping the surface, and had already found quite a few bodies. Whatever had done this, had done it in the middle of the night, knowing everyone would be in bed.

Something had been committing random acts of violence, and they had yet to pinpoint the culprit. Nothing fit a pattern, nothing made sense, and it was hard to find exactly what was causing so many deaths so randomly. That's what had originally drawn them to Aubrey.

Sam glanced down at the ground, carefully stepping around what appeared to be the remains of a little girl's bedroom. A doll lay twisted in the wreckage, missing limbs and clumps of hair. It took a lot to creep him out, but at seeing that Sam shuddered.

Dean also shuddered, remembering the last job that had involved dolls. "Let's go," he said, noticing the stares that were directed their way. No one trusted the boys…small town ideals of the FBI held true and the distaste had begun as soon as they had shown credentials.

Uniformed police swarmed the wreckage also, looking for clues and photographing piles of debris before they could be swept away. Not wanting to draw attention to them, Sam pulled out a notebook and started jotting down notes.

--

A pair of dazed, bloodshot eyes followed them as they continued their journey around the wreckage. He had been watching them, studying them. He knew they were a formidable team, not a family to be messed with. Hell they all knew that.

But he also knew the rewards and the position promised if he were to take them out. He studied them, watching them, sizing them up. He knew what he would do. The Winchesters were weakest when separated, and that's just what he planned to do.

Dipping his head, he faded farther into the growing crowds.

--

"It just doesn't make any sense Dean. We can't establish a pattern set by whatever is doing this, but we can't rule out the possibility that it's anything natural." The bag containing their finds lay on the table, confirming their worst case scenario.

While they were out on the scene, they had discovered a large circular dip in the road, and Sam had taken a sample of the fried dirt in a small sandwich bag. They had measured and guestimated, and had figured it had been the point of origin for whatever had taken place.

They had also discovered traces of sulfur in the dirt, leaning them in the direction of demon. Things had been quiet from that side, and the boys had enjoyed simpler hunts that involved silver bullets to the heart and a can of salt to the bones. They had even joked about how there were enjoying their vacation. A demon was in town now, and they would need to keep on guard.

"Well, no point in beating ourselves into the ground. How about we go out?" Dean suggested, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, it's not like we can start really looking until the morning."

"I saw a bar about 2 miles down the road," Sam suggested, throwing down his notebook. They might as well enjoy themselves now before they were knee-deep in demonic crap.

--

Simon glanced at his friend. "You have surely lost your mind."

"Come on, it'll be perfect, they'll never know what hit them," Marcus said as he slammed another shot. His drunken eyes despondently watched the Winchesters over his shoulder as they laughed, drank, and won another game of pool. Two bikers looked about ready to kill the hunters as they were hustled out of their money, but the leather-clad men were promptly removed by the weary bartender, earning another round of laughter from the boys.

"I can't help you out with this," Simon said, his own gaze nervous. He had never been this close to the Winchesters before, and though they wore easy smiles now, he knew they were ruthless and good at what they did.

"I can't do it without you," Marcus begged his old friend.

"The boss is already pissed that you've gone rogue. He didn't send you here."

"We can finally be rid of them, my plan is fool proof."

"You're the fool for doing this," Simon argued. "Besides, knowing you this plan was conceived in between bottles of Tequila."

"So I like to drink." The demon shrugged, downing another shot to emphasis his point.

"Your addiction for human substance has made you weak," Simon hissed, studying his drunken friend. No one among their ranks had fallen as far as Marcus had, and he had no one to blame but himself. He was an alcoholic, a shame to his race and rank.

"Are you going to help me or not?" The plea in his voice made Simon think twice. Marcus' plan did sound fool-proof, and it might be just what they needed.

"I swear Marcus, if you get us killed or exorcised I will torture you for eternity," Simon threatened. He couldn't believe he was about to go along with this. But if it worked, they were pretty much guaranteed a spot among the upper demons for life. They would no longer have to find disgusting human skin to house themselves in, and would be free to devout their time to much more important things than taking hunters out.

"So you'll do it?" Marcus asked hopefully.

"Will you put down that fucking bottle?" Simon asked, he needed his partner sober and coherent.

Marcus nodded. Simon nodded. They would do this.

"We need to approach this the right way," Simon said, watching as the Winchesters exited the bar, their pockets full of cash. They stumbled a bit, leaning on each other. "What do we know about the brothers?"

Marcus shooed away the next offer for a drink, and turned to his friend, seemingly stone sober for the first time in years. "The younger brother has some sort of ability, visions involving the boss, or something like that. The older brother is a smart ass who watches out for the younger like a hawk. They're quick, smart, and deadly as all get out. They're also stubborn assholes who will not leave a job unfinished."

Simon raised his eyebrow in question, to which Marcus shrugged off. "I've been studying them for a while."

"You didn't…you didn't draw them here, did you?" Simon questioned.

"You think I went rogue on purpose?"

The demons smiled, and decided what the hell; they'd have one more drink. A toast, it was the beginning of the end after all.

--

Chapter Two…Pole Dancing

His eyes were glued together, and someone was jack hammering in, on, and all around his head. He willed it all to stop, and to fall back asleep, but an annoying repetition of tapping wouldn't go away. He burrowed his face further into the pillow, hoping it would help silence the sound.

With a grunt of annoyance he forced his eyes all the way open and rolled on his side a bit so he could study his brother. Sam sat at the table, bathed in the glow of the laptop. The room was dark, but Dean could see the sliver of light through the heavy curtains. When Sam failed to notice he now had company, Dean turned to glance at the clock. 7:36 am. Great.

"Is there hot water at least?" Dean asked, noticing his brother's wet hair.

Without pause Sam denied it. "I didn't even have hot water. And check for cockroaches, I killed one before I got in."

Groaning, Dean threw his head back into the pillow and had every intention of falling back asleep.

"Dean, get up." Still lying on his stomach, Dean lifted an arm and swatted at his brother, before letting the heavy appendage fall limply at his side once more. "For crying out loud Dean, get up," Sam persisted, standing above his brother and threatening bodily harm.

Dean lifted his head again and glanced at the clock. 8:52. Huh, he had fallen back asleep.

"All right, I'm awake," Dean said, sitting up. Sam returned to his post at the table, ignoring Dean once more as he immersed himself back into whatever held his attention on teh small screen. "No hot water eh?"

Sam nodded, "And cockroaches." Dean did a quick glance at the floor around his feet, almost expecting to see them scurrying around. "Great."

His teeth were chattering and his lips were blue by the time Dean immerged from the shower, but he'd be damned if he was going to walk around smelling like musty smoke and stale beer from the night before. Quickly he towel-dried and got dressed, but was unable to shake the chill.

"Whatchya got so far?" he asked as he dug around for his keys. It was time for coffee damnit and he didn't remember where he'd tossed them.

"Not a whole lot. We need to observe the demon more I guess, establish a pattern before we can decide exactly what we're dealing with."

"You stay dream free last night?" Dean asked, studying Sam as he answered, watching for the lie.

"Yeah, surprisingly." Dean's eyes widened slightly, that hadn't been a lie. "Why?"

"Just making sure we're not dealing with our demon," Dean said, finally locating his keys underneath one of the beds.

"I don't think that one would just cause random acts of violence. That particular demon just likes to fuck with us," Sam said, closing his laptop and rubbing his hands down his face. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

--

"This'll be the greatest one yet," Marcus promised as he stood amongst the throngs of people packing themselves into the mall. It was abnormally busy for a Wednesday morning, but they figured it had something to do with the female journalist signing her latest book. Perfect.

"Just hurry up and get it over with," Simon said, watching the shadows. He'd had second thoughts about this, and now he wasn't so sure he could go through with it. Marcus had talked him back into it however, and now he was just confused. He never could say no to the fool, which he supposed made him a bigger fool.

Marcus' eyes closed, and a hum filled the mall, unnoticed by the humans. Screams erupted as the floor began to tilt and sway, knocking many humans off their feet. Metal poles sprung from beneath the stained tile, impaling multiple humans simultaneously, lifting their flailing bodies into the air as they fought death. The food court of the mall soon resembled a sadistic display of human scarecrows, their faces forever frozen in shock and horror as their bodies hung limply from the metal spears.

When the screams died down, whimpers could be heard among the survivors. Gurgling and choking could be heard among the dying.

Like before, Marcus had wanted to leave survivors. He made sure one of the witnesses saw his features clearly, as well as his comrade. He would trust that one to deliver the hunters to him with a detailed description. He would need to wait for the boys to contact him if all was going to go to plan. For effect he caught a pair of terrified eyes studying him. He winked in return, laughing as the eyes disappeared behind a stone bench.

Simon couldn't help but be impressed at the amount of raw, almost animalistic cruelty pouring from his friend. He had forgotten how dangerous this breed of demon could be, it had been so long since Marcus had shown little interest in anything besides a liquor bottle.

"Metal poles?" Simon asked as they left the mall, almost at a leisurely pace. They could afford to be patient; a plan such as this could not be rushed.

"Like that one didja? I just used the poles from the support system underneath. I would say it was fairly messy and should allow the boys to see that we are serious. And I have to admit I forgot how fun that could be."

A delicious shiver crawled up Simon's spine, and for the first time since Marcus had approached him, he could almost see this working.

--

Dean watched in horrid fascination as a single bead of blood made its way down the girl's arm, joining with another as it made its way down her hand and dripped from her long, slightly curled finger, adding to the puddle already on the floor.

"Whatever happened, it wasn't human," a cop muttered to another as they studied the same body. Dean smirked, if they only knew. Turning from the horrid display, he glanced around the food court, searching out his brother.

Not seeing Sam, Dean shrugged and looked for the tell tale signs. It was small, but once he found the first trace, it wasn't hard to find the rest. At the bottom of every pole jutting from the floor, sulfur caked a small thin ring. He looked mournfully at the room one last time before stepping back outside. Damnit.

Sam sat in the back of one of the ambulances, his attention focuses solely on the little girl lying on the stretcher. Somehow, Sam's face held the perfect combination of sorrow, empathy, and sadness, which just screamed trust me. The little girl was crying, but her lips were moving as she recounted what she had seen. Her hands began to waive frantically, before dropping to her sides with a wail someone in Germany could have heard.

Sam addressed her again, and she seemed to calm as she nodded slowly. Sam also nodded, turning to move to the back of the ambulance. The little girl cried out, and he turned back towards her. Dean leaned against the Impala, and with a perfect view he continued to watch Sam interact with the girl. He had to admit the kid had a way with people.

The girl looked around, and then gestured him closer, sitting up to whisper in his ear. Sam suddenly jerked back as though burned, and spoke quietly to the girl. She nodded, then laid back and closed her eyes. He sat with her a few moments longer, allowing her to fully slip under, and then slowly climbed out.

"What was that all about?" Dean asked as soon as his brother was in earshot.

"She said she saw who did it."

"Oh yeah, and who was that?"

"Two men…both had black eyes."

--SN--