Eh, not too excited about this story. But I've got a great plot and want to at least try it out. Though this is the first part, it's just a teaser to get things started. Expect the Winchesters very soon. Let me know what you think! (Even if you think it sucks, cause I might agree with you.)

We were inhabiting the kitchen on a normal, typical Saturday morning. Lauren was sitting at the breakfast table reading 'The Inferno' as a part of her tenth grade literature summer work. She had just finished a long ramble about how wrong Dante had been about his take on good and evil; "The old schmuck wouldn't know a demon if it spit in his face." I stood at the stove scrambling three eggs in the skillet, the toast in the oven, freshly squeezed orange juice sitting in a pitcher on the counter. Suddenly, I heard her book slam shut, a sigh escaping her lips.

"Let's go on a hunt." I glanced over my shoulder at the sudden sound of my younger sibling's voice, "Pardon?"

"Hunting. Let's go. There's still a week until school starts and…I don't know, I've been bored lately and thinking-"

"About hunting?" I asked Lauren incredulously. Was she serious? And where was this coming from?

"Yes," the small teen answered. I snorted a laugh and returned to scrambling the eggs in the skillet, "No."

"What? Why not? Come on, my birthday was last month. It'll be like a late present. Happy Belated!"

I chuckled a mocking laugh, shaking my head no. As I scooped eggs on her plate, I ignored her pleas and cries for a hunt. I fixed two glasses of OJ, and retrieved the toast from the oven. When I sat down at the table, she was still rambling, "…practice. How can you expect me to defend myself if you never train me-"

"Defend yourself from what? When was the last time anything supernatural was here, huh?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Don't play that crap, Lauren."

"Well still!" she gave a pathetic whine. "What about when I go to college, or move out? You won't be here to protect me forever."


"Charlie please. One little hunt. Just one before school starts, then I'll leave you alone about going on a trip again until Halloween." I made the biggest mistake ever by looking at her then. I was met with two of the brownest, saddest puppy-dog eyes. My little sister had stuck her lip out, but only slightly so as not to be obnoxious, and had relaxed her features. Softly, she asked, "Please Charlie…?"

I glared at her. I felt myself giving in. It would be one hunt, and I would be there to help her. The kid was right; I wouldn't be here forever. She would need to be able to protect herself. To do that, she would need experience in the field, not just knowledge. Sighing, I mutter, "Since when are you the stereotypical 'whiny teenage'?"

Lauren only stared at my with pleading eyes. After, what was in my mind, a serious staring contest. I broke the silence by crunching into a piece of toast. "Breakfast?"

"Charlotte," she was growling now. "Please. I'm almost sixteen and-"

"Almost? Lauren you just turned fifteen. Remember, 'Happy Belated'?!"

We argued for several hours afterward. We argued at the grocery store, we argued when I was in the shower, we argued when she was in the shower; we argued endlessly. It was ridiculous so I finally snapped, "Christmas. No more hunting 'til at least after Christmas."

"Really?! Deal!" she grinned, clapping her hands down on her thighs. Enthusiastically Lauren chirped, "So where to?"

I raised my eyebrows, "You're the one who wants to hunt, baby girl. You find out."



"Okay…research," she nodded. "I can do that."

As she stood up off my bed, she turned to leave the room. Pausing at the door, she glanced at me. "Hypothetically speaking, let's say I wanted to do research on finding a demon…how would I do that exactly?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my shirt on. "Well, midget, first off, we're not going demon hunting. Only small game…maybe a ghost or a siren. Something small time. Secondly, you don't try to find it. They don't exactly have trackers, you know?"

"So what do I do?"

"Go to online newspapers. Look at all the surrounding towns, maybe even another state. Look for odd deaths, reoccurring deaths…uh…omens-"

"Weather changes, dark clouds, electrical storm-"

"Exactly. Basically just fish around 'til you think you've found something."

Lauren bit her lip, her facial features clearly showing she was thinking. She nodded, but didn't look at me. As her eyes wandered, she muttered, "Thanks." Then disappeared. I peered at the place where she had just stood. Shaking my head, I tugged my jeans over my hips, mumbling to myself, "God that is one weird ass kid."

"I heard that!" she called. My brow furrowed together. "Creepy."

Two hours later, she finally found something she appeared to be satisfied with her choice of hunt. "Okay, so, I was googling, and googling, and then finally after googling some more, I came across this."

She handed me her laptop open to an online newspaper titled, "The Daily Kick." My brow furrowed at the cheesy name. I scrolled down, glancing at the heading, "Flu Epidemic". I snorted and shot her an irritated glance. Skimming the article, I looked for obvious signs of supernatural phenomena. Finally, I huffed and shook my head, "Sorry, kiddo. It's just a spread of flu."

"What?! Are you sure…? Charlie, I can't find anything," she wheeled the computer around. As she did so, a side add caught my eye. "Hang on. Let me see that."

Confused she turned it back around. Controlling the mouse, I clicked on the add. A new window popped open. "Auto Plant Death Shakes Small Town." Smiling up at her, I chuckled, "Now this might be something."

"Amazing, I search for hours and in mere minutes you find a hunt. It's pitiful."

"For you, maybe," I grinned. To myself, I quietly skimmed the article, "Crossville, Tennessee, is by it's very definition part of small town America. Ginny Monroe, Harry Stamply, and Virginia Davis, three Crossville locals, were killed Tuesday at the downtown auto parts factory owned by Ford Motor's. Killed by a fallen vehicle, Ginny and Virginia died on impact; Harry was rushed to the ER and passed away an hour later. There are many possibilities as to what triggered the tragic event: a few fellow employees believed that Ginny, who worked the control box and had a tendency for slacking off, slipped up, causing one of the large vehicles to fall loose. Another theory is simply wire failure. The assembly line has been taken apart and thoroughly searched. Though there is no confirmation of what truly caused the accident, the factory is being temporarily shut down for further inspection..."

"Hmm, it might not be…" I muttered as I finished the remaining bits of the article. I shook my head, "I don't know, little sis. This is a possible hunt, or possibly nothing. Most likely nothing. I'm almost positive it's nothing, but it's close. Crossville, I'm pretty sure it's a little south of Cookeville, Tennessee. That's not too far, 'bout five, six hours. If you can find anything better, we'll look into it, but I'm fine with this."

"But you said it's not much…what if we get there and it's nothing more than shitty factory work?"

Then you won't have to hunt, I thought. But I didn't dare voice my opinion. "Well, it's not everyday that cars fall from the sky, er, assembly line. And to have killed three people…I don't know. It might not be. Then again, who knows."

"Alright. We'll go," she finally decided, a microscopic smile tugging at her lips. "When will we leave?"

"Tonight. Go pack. I gotta head over to Luc's; let him now we're heading out."

With a huge grin, she nodded gleefully, snatched up her computer, and trekked to her room. I could hear the thudding bass of her stereo. I assumed she was dancing around her room as she packed. Smirking, I grabbed my wallet, phone, and car keys, and made my way to Lucas's diner: Inner City Café. The diner wasn't overly crowded but decently busy for a Saturday evening. "Jackson!" I called to the chef. The lanky man didn't bother to address me, or even stick his head out from the kitchen, but simply shouted, "He's upstairs!"

"Thanks, Jack." I dashed up the stairs, knocked once, and entered the apartment. "Luc, you here?"

"Yeah! Back here!" the man's familiar voice answered from his bedroom. I moved around the table in the middle of the apartment, down the hall, and into his open room. "Laure and I are heading out."

"Yeah? Where to?" Lucas was a tall man, broad shouldered, with dark hair that curled around his face. At the age of thirty-two, he's almost ten years older than me. When I moved to Georgia, Lucas helped me out. He gave me a job and some money to help me get on my feet. Temporarily, he even let me and Lauren stay with him. In the five years I've lived here, it's easy to say Lucas has become my best friend; hell, he's family.

"Crossville, Tennessee. We've got some family up there. My father's sister just had a baby and we were going to see her," it use to frighten me how easily lies rolled off my tongue. Now, I learn to put it to good use.

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Name's Hayley."

"Cute," he grimaced. For someone as open hearted and loving as Luc, he absolutely despised children younger than ten. Whenever it was brought up I argued, "You say that because the only kid you've ever been around is Lauren and she was ten."

"Exactly. She was potty trained and smart, not some dependant snot rag."

"When will you be back?" Lucas stood from his bed and flipped off the television.

"Uh, sometime next week. Three, four days tops. I'll check it Monday."

We talked briefly, but I check my watch and realized I needed to get back and start getting my stuff together for the hunt. Lucas led me down stairs and to my car. With quick goodbyes, I trapped Lucas in a hug before climbing in my Honda. When I arrived home, Lauren was all packed up and ready to roll. She bounced excitedly up from her perch on the sofa upon my entrance. "Ready?"

"Nope," I smirked. "And neither are you."

"What? Yes I am. I have everything. Clothes, toothbrush, hair brush, your books-"

"Weapons?" I murmured, dashing up the stairs two at a time. In my room, I immediately started tossing clothes onto my bed. I snatched the suitcase out of my closet and began piling in full. Lauren appeared in the doorway. "I figured you'd get those."

I snorted, "Okay. Well what do we need?"

"I don-"

"You wanted this hunt, Lauren. Think. Work. Hunt. You're going to have to keep your head on straight or else we'll get hurt, possibly die. What do we need?" I snapped. Our eyes locked. She seemed to freeze, then. Her body stiffened, then calmed and she nodded. "We don't know what it is so…everything. We need holy water, rosary beads, guns, possession amulets, lighters…uh-"

"Good," I nodded. "Get it." She opened my top dresser drawer and pulled out the keys to our safe. Disappearing out the door, her footsteps gradually grew fainter. I grabbed everything I'd need and jammed it all in my suitcase. Zipping it up, I grabbed a duffle bag Lauren used to use for soccer and followed after Lauren. The safe was kept in the hall closet between the kitchen and living room. Though it didn't have all of our weapons and protection devices, it held the most important and dangerous ones.

Laure caught the duffle bag and started filling it. Twenty minutes later, we were loading up the car and locking the doors. Slipping into the driver's seat, I glanced at Lauren who was beaming with anticipation. Starting the car, I shook my head. "What?" my little sister asked. Snorting, I mumbled, "You are such a freak."