Author's Note: I don't own any of the recognizable cast. This is set after Goodbye Stranger, so spoilers for basically everything up to that point. Review are welcome and greatly appreciated. Hope that you enjoy!
He's close, so close.
I can taste him.
And blur of red and black.
"What the hell!"
The squealing of tires followed by the crunching of metal.
There was a thump of something against the roof of the now crashed truck.
A blood curling scream pierced through the air.
The windshield, shattered by fingers, bony, bloody.
"What the fuck are you-heymffhhh'
Fingers grabbed skin, ripping it from muscle, muscle from bone.
Bone crushed and crumbled, accompanied by shrieks and chanting.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine
A figure, crouched, face dripping with the blood of it's latest kill, looked into the headlights of another car.
Not him, not right.
Three days later
Two figures stood around a truck that had skidded off the rain soaked dirt road.
One appeared to be in his early twenties, tall, muscular, ash blonde hair topping kind features.
The other was a portly man in his late fifties, dressed in cover-alls with an ever present wad of chewing tobacco tucked into his lip.
"Well Jes, it looks like you managed to wreck it this time. What happened?"
Jesse, the younger man, sighed
"I don't know. One second I'm on my way home from work, the next I see this, well, this blur. I swerved to miss it and winded up in the ditch."
The older man shook his head.
"Do you think that it could have anything to do with what happened to that Moore boy last week?"'
"Pray to the lord it doesn't I-"
A rumbling from the distance, followed by rapidly approaching headlights.
"Well who in their right minds would be coming down that fast in this weather?"
The man stepped forward, his grease rag raised, flagging the car down.
"Are those Kansas plates?"
Both men paused as the sleek black impala slowed to a halt.
"Mighty nice car you've got yourselves there boys. It'd be a shame if anything happened to it."
Sam looked over at his brother, before turning back.
"I'm sorry, did you just threaten me?"
The man shook is head, Jesse stepping forward and bending his face to the window.
"Don't mind Ricky here, he's actually trying to be helpful. This road is pretty dangerous at night, especially when it's raining."
The man stepped back, waving at the crumpled mess that had once been his truck.
"I've lived in this town twenty two years and I still manage to crash."
Sam nodded, smiling at the man cordially.
Ricky grunted, slamming the opened hood on the truck.
"No way of getting her out until morning son. I'll send Brent out later."
The man sighed, turning and yelling over his shoulder.
"Alright. Take care of yourself."
A wave as the older man climbed into his truck.
"You too bud."
Sam glanced at the battered truck as it pulled away.
"Thank's for the tip. Do you need a hand?"
Jesse shook his head to say no, but then paused.
"Actually, if either of yins have a phone I could borrow to call my brother. I need him to come pick me up."
Sam nodded, digging in his pocket for his phone, when another voice ccame from the car.
"How far out of town are we?"
Jesse glanced out at the road, squinting for a moment before turning back.
"About six, seven miles."
"We can take you. We're here for a job anyway, might as well help someone out."
The man smiled, shaking the water droplets from his hair.
Sam glanced suspiciously at dean, who had turned around and tossed a loose jacket over the seat.
Jesse climbed in, sighing as the warmth of the Impala chased away the cold clinging to him from the rain.
"My name's Jesse, by the way. Jesse Hamby."
Sam nodded and dean grinned at him through the rear-view mirror.
"I'm Dean, and this is my partner Sam."
The man's face fell, his cheeks flushing red as he looked away.
"Oh I, ahh, I didn't realize that you two were-"
Sam shook his head, catching the man's trail of thought.
"No! No, business partners. FBI. I'm Agent Hope, and this is Agent Ehart."
The man in the back seat visibly relaxed.
"Feds huh? Come here investigating The Blur?"
Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Is that what you're calling it? The Blur?"
Jesse shruged, settling back into the seat.
"That's what they called it in the paper. Said it was some sort of a wild animal or something."
"You sound like you don't quite believe it."
"I've never seen any animal like that in these woods. Plenty of deer, some huge dogs maybe, but nothing big enough to do that."
Dean peered once more into the rear-view mirror.
"You've seen it?"
"It's what ran me off the road."
The hunter resisted the urge to slam on his brakes and double back, he opted instead for a scowl.
"What do you think it is then."
"I'd honestly want to say a person, 'cept I've never seen a man move that fast, or pulerize another one. Some folks have been speculating that it's a convict that escaped from Brushy. The place has been on lock down for the past week."
Sam perked up in his chair.
"There's been no reports of an escape on the news."
"That's the thing. They're always very public with an escape. Like a while back when that one guy got Cotton- anyway, they swear it's not a convict, I know it ain't a animal. I really don't know what it is."
Dean pulled onto Main Street.
"There's a grocery store on your left. Darnells. I'll get a ride from there."
The back door opened, Jesse stepping into the rain.
"Thank's fellas I appreciate it."
"Hey, real quick, can you point us in the direction of a motel?"
"Just down this road a ways. Scenic River Inn Motel."
The brothers drove on, missing the motel in their first pass.
"Dammit Dean it was right there."
"Sorry. It looked like any of these other buildings! It could do with a sign. Some neon, or something."
He spun the wheel, an illegal U turn sending them back to the parking lot of the motel.
Sirens blared behind them, the cop car cruising in and parking behind them.
"Great Dean. We haven't even checked into our room yet and we are already going to jail."
Dean reached over, smacking Sam's arm.
"Shut up will you? And hand me my badge."
Sam quickly flipped through the glove compartment, handing dean the Impala's papers, as well as one of his most current badges.
"License and registration please."
The elderly officer stood at the door, his hand shaking slightly as he looked down.
"Sir, I'm Special Agent Ehart, this is my partner, Agent Hope."
The officer's eyes widened behind his thick glasses.
"Oh! You're here for The Blur. I've heard. Yes, yes, sorry, can't have young'ns hot-rodding around these days."
The man pushed the papers back at Dean, who gave Sam his patented I-told-you-this-would-work glares.
"May be get out?"
The officer paused for a moment, before nodded.
"Oh yes, of course! Forgive me. Yes, here."
He stepped back.
Dean swung open his car door, stepping into the steady drizzle that the locals didn't seem to mind at all.
The officer held his hand out.
"I'm Sunny. Welcome to Wartburg. Hope finding us wasn't too much of a pain."
Dean shook his head.
The slamming of a car door as Sam stepped out of is side.
He walked around, standing next to Dean and towering over the elderly officer.
"Wow you're a biggin'"
Sam gave him a humorless smile.
"Well I'd better let you two get settled in. Long day I'm assuming. I'll let Teddy and the Sheriff know that you're here."
The man backed up his hand reaching shakily to his car door.
"Ahh, you too."
The car door slammed, and Sunny drove away.
Dean rested his hands against the frame of the Impala, letting out an exhausted sigh.
"What is it with these towns being all creepy and omnipotent?"
Sam nodded, popping open the trunk, grabbing their duffle bags.
"Yea, I know."
Dean shook his head, straightening up and heading towards the door marked 'office.'
"And the whole 'take care' thing. Is that the only phrase they know?"
Sam shrugged, opening the door.
"With all the recent events, it makes sense. I mean small communities like this tend to-"
His words died in his throat at the scene laid out before him.