Hi there! I have had a stressful couple of days so I had to write something totally off the wall and silly. I hope you enjoy! I own nothing!


He stares at the rundown building through his windshield and curses to himself. He hates the outdoors. He hates old buildings. He hates barns. They're weird. Sure, old houses, well the old houses that contain ghosts anyways, always seem to have cellars; which always seem to have sealer jars; which always seem to hold some kind of scientific experiment gone wrong. But a freakin barn? Smells like shit. Looks like hell. And they are always in there, skittering around, and the thought makes his damn skin crawl. The thing about barns is… they always have them. Rats. He hates rats.

"Dean? You okay man?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, right, of course. I'm fine bro, just wondering how this place never made onto the cover of Homes and Gardens."

He sees the crinkle in Sam's forehead.

"What Sam?"

"Nothing. Just, you know about Homes and Gardens? Any other secret lives you'd like to fill me in on?"

"Shut up. Ready to go dude, we don't have all day. Sun's not gonna be up much longer and I'd like to find something to ice this farmer from Hell before he decides to make a barn-call. Get it? Barn call?"

"Yup, you're fine."

They stop in front of the dilapidated barn and only then does he realize the place is fricken huge. Perfect, more ground to cover and more chances to run into the wildlife. He shivers at the thought of running into one of those damn bastards.

His eyes scan the immediate area. He thinks he can hear a rustle through the overgrown brush and mutters something Sam can't quite hear. He starts to feel the unmistakable twinge of panic, or maybe fear, tie a damn knot in his stomach so tight that he has to close his eyes to get control of it. He's faced monsters and demons and Heaven and Hell and still, after all of that, those filthy, four legged bastards can still make his skin crawl and his stomach turn. Suck it up man.

"Uh, Dean? We going in or what man?"

"Yeah Sammy, just hold your horses a minute. You don't wanna go barging in without a quick look to make sure the coast is clear."

"Clear from your furry little friends you mean? C'mon Dean, I know you have a fear of those things but really, what's the big deal, they're no match for you. You got your gun right? Should be able to blow them away pretty easy if they make a run at you."

He definitely hears a chuckle from his brother next.

"You're hilarious you know that. I'm not scared of them, I just don't like them. Hell, don't come crying to me if you're suddenly swarmed by vicious, hairy, slimy rodents!"

"Uh… slimy?"

"Whatever. Just don't be pretending to be one or I might get an itchy trigger finger and shoot your ass."

"Alright, alright. Sheesh, touchy. Good thing you don't have a fear of rodents or anything."

"Whatever."

He pushes the door open and it fills the stale air with a typical horror movie creak and is cast in an eerie glow from the fading sunlight, as it streams in through the crumbling wood walls.

"Let's just get this over with. I mean, a freakin' barn? Can't these fuglies ever hang out in a nice hotel or somethin'?"

"Dude, we spend most of our time in a graveyard and you are spooked by a barn?

"They're just creepy man, I have my reasons." He hears another skitter along one of the walls inside and flinches in response. "I'll check the loft, you check down here."

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You know they can climb right? You won't be safe up there… maybe you want to hang out in the car and let me take care of this one?"

He shakes his head, he can't believe he seriously considered that suggestion for a second.

"Nah, someone's gotta watch your back in case an evil clown jumps out of that haystack over there."

"Smart ass."

"Did you hear that? Was that a honk?"

"Very funny."

He smiles as he sees his brother actually eye the haystack suspiciously before he turns his back and starts to look through all the damn crap littered throughout the barn. He may have his thing with rats. But clowns? That is seriously messed up.

Shit, he doesn't even know for sure what the hell they're looking for. A haunted pitchfork maybe? Maybe they'll be lucky for a change and find the bastard's bones in plain sight. Yeah, right, that's gonna happen.

He starts his ascent up the ladder and it isn't until he reaches the top that he realizes he is several feet above the ground. He starts to eyeball everything; starts to dig his way through the hay and the debris and the filth of the damn place. He sighs, he just wants to get the hell out of this place.

"Anything Sam?"

His brother appears in view and shakes his head. "Not yet man but it has been only like five minutes. But, I did run in to some of your long tailed friends, they said they were looking for you. Hope you don't mind, I told them where you were so you'll probably have company soon!"

"Bite me!"

"Not me, but maybe…"

"Enough already! You've had your fun now just shove a sock in it and keep looking, there's got to be something keeping this asshole around."

Another smirk and Sam is gone again, and he can't help but feel unnerved as he stares at the empty space where his brother once stood.

He resumes the hunt for something, anything to get this hunt over with when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. It only lasts a second but he can feel a fine layer of sweat start to materialize on his brow. Damn it. More movement and in that moment he hates his brother. He was right. Those assholes can climb. Son of a bitch.

Hell no. Please be something else, please be something else. Shit. Is it wrong that he is actually hoping for a snake to come slithering out? No such luck. It isn't long before one of the damn things pokes its head out of the hay and stares at him with those beady little eyes. It sniffs the air to pinpoint the new scent. He gulps at the realization. It can smell him.

He doesn't move but keeps his gaze firmly affixed on his nemesis. And it's looking back. He swallows and lets out a deep breath. C'mon man, it's only one stupid douchebag rat. Pull yourself together, you need to do your damn job before dead farmer dude decides to kill some other unlucky sap.

"Get the hell out of here ratty before I waste your creepy little ass."

The rodent takes one step towards him and he will deny it later but he kind of loses his cool for a minute then. He starts cussing and flailing his arms but the damn thing won't budge. Okay then, Jerry, you asked for it. He grabs a piece of debris and flings the damn rat as far away from him as he can. He smiles, gives it the finger and feels pretty damn proud of himself.

"Dean? What the hell man?"

Pride and relief pour out of him as he notices the whole damn floor start to wake up. It's a sea of movement and he sure as hell doesn't want to stick around to see what he just woke up. He shimmies along the floor on his rear end and has to admit he is a pretty happy man when he reaches the ladder and his escape.

"Dean! Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah… coming down Sam, coming down. Can't stay up here. Too many, too many. Place is crawling with them man. All over the place."

He spares one glance down at his brother and Sam's eyes look up to him in concern. He sees his brother's gaze drift from him to the rippling floor and back to him again.

"I think you should come down now man. I swear, I'll never kid you about those things again. Just, c'mon, nice and slow. Okay? Dean?"

He doesn't need to hear it twice. And, if Sam has such a sound of worry in his voice he knows things just got serious. He stands slowly, almost sickened by the motion of the ground beneath him. He watches in horror as the straw that hid his worst nightmare slowly gives way and the beige colour is changed to a sickening brown. Eyes, ears, heads, claws and tails whip around in constant chaos; in a disjointed swirl of madness and then it happens. The first brush against his legs. And then he loses it. He starts kicking and swearing and thumping the ground to keep them at bay.

"Dean! Get the hell on the ladder! It's not stable up there! Stop jumping around like a lunatic and get your ass down here!"

One more thump and then he has a whole new set of problems to deal with. A creak, a shift, and then a shower of dust as the loft floor gives way and he, and all his new little friends, tumble down onto the dirt floor below.


TBC... I'm thinking one more chapter. Let me know what you think if you wish. Thanks for stopping by.