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Supernatural / Demons from the South	By : silkmink Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 4119 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer:

Sam & Dean Winchester are characters that were created by Eric Kripke. Currently the rights belong to Warner Bros TV. These chapters are in no way affiliated with the actual show & were not written for financial gain.

The events in this story are not from the actual program. They are my take on how the characters would react in certain circumstances. This series of chapters reflect the characters as they were in season 5 of the series (in terms of their experiences and how much they had learned).

No harm or disrespect is intended to anyone affiliated with the show or their families.

Supernatural / Demons from the South Ch. 4: Sam and Dean Hit Terminus:

Author's note: In the early 1800's Atlanta was first known as Terminus. It was the southern most part of the United States where trains coming from north and west intersected and could go no farther. It was, in effect, the end of the line, hence the name Terminus. ”A final point in space or time; an end.”

Prologue: After getting away from the warehouse, which turned out to be located in Tennessee, the Winchester brothers made it as far south as Dalton, GA. They spent the rest of the night there. The next day they traveled down to Summerville to do some reconnaissance for Bobby who had recently stumbled upon a distinctive rock fragment in an abandoned building that had previously housed a coven of witches. Bobby did some research and found out that the fragment was rumored to come from a pentagram rock which sat on the grounds of a place called Corpsewood Manor in the Southern Appalachian Mountains.* Bobby wanted the boys to gather as much intel as they could about the place to see if there was any possible truth to the rumors about the fragment.

The brothers spent the entire day chasing down leads in the brutal Georgia heat in black suits posing as FBI agents and in the end were not able to uncover any more than was available on the internet. They made their way back to Interstate 75 and continued their journey towards Florida to investigate a recent incident of cannibalism by a man that was claimed to have superhuman strength.

-----------------------

"Well that was a colossal waste of time.” Dean said, “I could use a drink,”

"I could use a shower and a bed,” Sam retorted from the passenger seat. "We're coming up on Atlanta soon,” Sam examined the GPS on his laptop. “We can stop there for the night.”

"Awesome. I'm hitting the first skeevy bar we find.” Dean said determined.

"Whatever. I'm exhausted.” Sam said searching for the closest cheap motel.

Dean got off the interstate at an exit on the outskirts of Atlanta which looked promising as far as cheap accommodations and pool halls.

The first parking lot on the right belonged to a place with a red neon sign reading, “Witchburner's Tavern.”** There were a couple semis in the lot along with the odd muscle car.

The tires crunched on the gravel as Dean maneuvered around giant pot holes and broken glass to find a spot.

They drove past a primer black '72 Gran Torino Sport.

"Looks like we came to the right place, huh?”

Sam was lost in thought and almost missed Dean's remark.

"Huh?” he looked back at the classic muscle car. “Oh yeah. Looks like your kinda dive,” Sam said putting away his laptop looking out the windshield. “If you don't mind, I'm going to go find us a motel.”

“One with 5 stars, I hope. To conform to your high standards, arch douche Ferdinand.” Dean quipped back.

Sam smirked at his brother sarcastically.

Dean rolled to a stop and pulled his nickle-plated Colt with the engraved slide and ivory grip, out of the glove compartment. He tucked it into the back of his jeans and shrugged into his leather jacket.

Both Winchesters stepped out of the vehicle. Sam walked around to the driver's side while Dean headed around the other way and started making his way to the saloon doors set into a building festooned with neon signs promoting cheap beer.

"Stay out of trouble!” Sam called after Dean jokingly while getting into the car.

"Thanks, mom!” Dean waved over his shoulder never turning around.

Sam put the car in gear and drove back out towards the road.

The bar was smoky and glowed red from the neon advertisements.

As Dean entered, he heard the first unmistakable drumbeats of Led Zeppelin’s “D'yer Mak'er” over the jukebox. Probably one of the best songs to have sex to, Dean smiled to himself. Fuck if he knew what the lyrics meant but the Robert Plant's drawling “You don't have to go, oh oh oh ohhh” always seemed to make chicks horny.

The place smelled like beer, cigarettes, and oddly enough, Tide.

He went straight for the bar and ordered a whiskey. He waited for the bartender to put it down in front of him before dropping a twenty on the bar and then turning on his bar stool to scope out the place. The entrance was flanked by two rows of pool tables side by side, parallel to each other. Above that to the left was a balcony with high wooden tables and bar stools overlooking the tavern. The bar itself was to the right and beyond that a coin operated laundry.

From the looks of it, local starving musicians came here to spend their unemployment checks and launder their skinny jeans. Dean chuckled into his glass as he took another drink. A bar with a Laundromat, that's a new one on me.

There were attractive women everywhere but Dean's eyes were immediately drawn to a brunette drinking a beer straight from the bottle by a pool table. She was laughing with a group of people. Her style could only be described as Rock-a-billy. She had pin-up styled black hair with pale skin and blood red bow lips. Her thick eyelashes seemed to go on forever, framing clear avocado colored eyes.

She was petite but had full breasts, a small waist and rounded hips. She seemed to have stepped right out of the 50's. She wore a tight red-checked button down shirt tied just above her navel. There was a grease stained bandana tucked into her snugly fitted back pocket. Tight denim pedal pushers and leopard spotted stiletto pumps completed the ensemble.

Dean was enthralled, but just to be sure she wasn't a Shapeshifter, he held up his cell phone on the camera setting to check out her eyes through the lens. He was relieved to see no retinal flare in her eyes.

From across the room she caught him holding up his cell phone at her. She smiled wickedly directly at him.

Oh shit, busted, Dean hurriedly slipped the phone into the pocket of his jacket.

The brunette excused herself from the group she was with and walked over swinging her hips to the rhythm of the guitar solo. She looked straight at Dean with a sly smile playing over her lips.

"Takin' pictures of me, slick?" She drawled in a southern lilt that sent a rush of heat directly to Dean's groin.

"Uh, not exactly." Dean said, not knowing what else to say.

"Then what exactly were ya doin'?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean said with a mysterious smile.

She smiled admonishingly and turned to the bartender. "Whiskey please, Jimmy."

"Here let me get that,” Dean slid the change from his twenty towards the bartender.

She turned to him with smiling cat eyes. At first he thought it was a piercing or a spot of make-up when he realized it was an honest-to-god beauty mark on the outside corner of her lush lips. She was a cross somewhere between Bettie Page and Marilyn Monroe.

She looked right at him resting her chin on the faintly grease stained knuckles of her left hand. The letters tattooed across the top of her fingers and thumb read A-N-G-E-L

"So, what's cookin' good lookin'?” she cooed.

"Not a whole lot.” He shot back smiling at the cheesy pick up line. “How are you, baby?”

"Me? I'm fine.” She replied coyly.

"Damn right you are.” Dean said suggestively.

She giggled; picked up her drink and slammed it back in one swig.

Dean licked his lips imagining the taste of whiskey on her puckered mouth.

"Tell you what.” Dean said, downing his drink as well.

"What?” She asked; intrigued.

"I'll bet you a dollar I can kiss you without touching you.” His eyes were daring. He was dangerously close to her now.

"What, like kiss me without putting your hands on me?” Her eyes were wide and questioning as he leaned his handsome face closer.

"No, I mean no part of me will touch any part of you.” He smiled looking intently at her lips.

She could smell the intoxicating scent of whiskey on his breath.

"How is that even possible?” She asked giggling.

"Let me show you.” He said moving closer still. Her eyes watched his mouth get closer, wondering when he was going to stop.

Dean planted a full passionate kiss on her lips.

“Mmmmm” she moaned lightly, reaching up to hold his face in her hands as she kissed him back.

Without breaking the kiss, Dean held up a one dollar bill. His lips moved against hers when he said, “You win.”

She threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Dang! You're a tricky little devil, ain'tcha?” She wagged a finger at him.

You have no idea.” He replied.

She reached her finger to his sculpted lips and wiped the lipstick from his mouth. She looked over her shoulder toward the Laundromat. She turned back to smile at Dean flirtatiously.

"I gotta put my clothes in the dryer. Wanna come with?” She threw him a wink..

Dean was dying to see where this was going.

"C'mon” she tossed over her shoulder as she cat walked back into the cacophony of roaring machines.

The lighting was brighter there and they both squinted slightly as their eyes adjusted to the harsh illumination. She walked over to a washer and started pulling out wet clothes and tossing them into a laundry basket. Dean caught something small and lacy before it reached its destination. He stretched out the fragile piece of clothing revealing a black lace thong.

"These are nice.” he said admiringly. “I'd like to see them on.”

"I don't think they'd fit you, sugar.” She said smiling down at his crotch.

"I tried that and it wasn't for me, how 'bout you put em on?” Dean shot back.

She giggled and pulled the panties out of his hands. “Those need to go in the dryer.”

"Wet's good, actually.” It was his turn to wink. 

"Well I have some red ones on right now if ya want to see 'em...” She looked at him feigning shyness. “...they're wet too.”

Dean arched his eyebrows smiling. “Yeah, that works way better”

She turned while hooking her finger at him, indicating that he should follow her.

Dean, couldn't believe it. Now, this? This right here is so much awesome!, he thought mentally rubbing his hands together.

She moved gracefully, on teetering heels, swaying her hips past the rows of machines whirring and spinning loudly. Dean followed closely. His eyes never leaving her shapely behind with an ecstatic grin on his face.

He seemed to remember recently having had a similar experience where his growing excitement made walking slightly uncomfortable.

She led him to a small dimly lit room with a large table for folding clothes. The far side had a small window that was catching a flashing red haze from one of the many neon signs decorating the outside of the bar. Below the window was a black moldy sink next to a paper towel dispenser.

Since most of the people who frequented the establishment didn't care much for folding, the room was pretty much forgotten.

He flipped the switch as he entered the room. When nothing happened she said, “That light hasn't worked for years.”

Dean could not have cared less. He closed the door behind him without turning his wolfish green eyes away from her.

She faced him and, illuminated by the pulsing red glow, she untied her shirt and pulled it off revealing a lace black pushup bra that her breasts were spilling out of. Dean smiled hungrily. She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her jeans using her feet to step them down to the floor. Gingerly she slipped back into her heels. She turned her back to him and struck the classic Betty Grable pin-up pose. She looked at him over her shoulder coyly in a fire engine red thong. She had stocking seams permanently tattooed up the back of her legs.

"Like what'cha see, handsome?”

"Like? I would say that like is the understatement of the year.” Dean said without looking away.

She turned her back towards the long wide table and lifted herself onto it. She sat back and planted one shoe up on the table, leg bent while the other leg dangled off the edge. Her legs were splayed open; the satiny lace just barely covering her shaved pussy.

She tilted her face down with an innocent pout and in a baby voice she said, “See..?” she looked down between her legs, “...all wet.”

”Aw, you poor thing. Let me take care of that for you.” Dean took off his jacket while deftly hiding the pistol and folding it into the jacket. He laid it on the edge of the table. His erection throbbed in his jeans as he stepped between her creamy thighs and ran the tips of his fingers upwards along the thin fabric soaked with her juices.

”Mmmmm” she moaned for the second time that night.

Dean continued to run his fingers along the grooves he could feel through the warm moist satin. “You like that, baby?” he whispered watching her face intently.

”Uh huh.” She nodded in a child-like way, her wide innocent green eyes stared into his hungry ones.

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he rubbed gently; enjoying the look of ecstasy on her face. He let his fingers slip the fabric to one side and his fingers dipped into what felt like warm oil. She sighed heavily as she rolled her eyes back. He continued working his finger tips up and down so lightly that she squirmed trying to create more friction.

Her strong reaction to his scant movements was really doing a number on him. He shifted his weight to try to relieve the intense pressure on his cock caused by his jeans.

Dean let his fingers lightly graze her swollen clit. “Uhhhhhh” she groaned. The sound made his erection pulse thickly.

He ran his fingers back down and slipped two of them into her. “How's this?” he whispered seductively.

”Sooo gooood,” she purred back. “But I think you're making it wetter.”

”Oops,” he breathed softly as he leaned in for a kiss without missing a stroke with his fingers.

She reached one arm to hook his neck and met him in a deep kiss. Dean probed her mouth with his tongue as his fingers continued to probe her soaking wet pussy.

He felt her start to contract around his fingers and with her lips parted over his mouth she started to emit soft mewling sounds. He could tell that she was getting close.

”Ah ah ah...” Dean warned. He slipped his fingers out of her. “...not yet.”

She pouted as though she'd just been chastised.

Dean stepped back and started unbuttoning his jeans, his confident eyes still focused on hers.

She smiled wickedly as she watched. Even with his pants on, she could tell he was massive. She licked her lips in anticipation.

She slid off the table while unhooking her bra. Her breasts spilled out, bouncing slightly when their lacy support was removed. She stood in front of Dean. Being 5'6" to his 6'1”, she had to look up at him even with heels on.

Unable to resist, he forgot about removing his pants momentarily and he cupped her breasts with both hands. Dean bent down to take one swollen nipple into his mouth; his tongue flicked across it. He planted soft kisses on the swollen nub of pink flesh while gingerly pinching the other with his thumb and forefinger.

With his head now stooped below her chin, she reached around the back of his neck and lightly dragged her fingernails upwards through his close cropped hair. Her action had two immediate effects. Chills poured down Dean's body like cold water and his erection grew even more, making his bent over position untenable.

As if on cue, she held his shoulders and turned him so his back was to the table. He looked down at her grinning in anticipation. Ok Dean, we're about to get some serious action, he thought to himself.

She leaned him against the table and looked up at him with a "are you ready for this" look in her eyes. She stripped off his t-shirt. Her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of his muscled chest and stomach.

Dean held on to the edges of the table; bracing himself.

Her stiletto pumps on tiptoe, she kissed his lips softly. With her eyes locked on his, she reached down to the front of his jeans and feeling that his cock was angled to one side, she repositioned him without reaching into his pants. When she had it where she wanted it, the head of his dick still covered by his boxers, was visible where his pants were undone.

She firmly pressed her right palm against the bulge throbbing beneath the thin fabric and rubbed up and down. She ran her tongue across his smiling lips.

She continued kissing over his chin, his neck, his chest, his stomach... As she sunk lower, she squatted down, knees splayed, sitting back, balanced on her sharp narrow heels, her back arched and her ass stuck out behind her.

Strip much? Dean thought to himself. He leaned further back on the table so his hips angled forward.

She continued her path downward, now alternating between kisses and light flicks of her tongue. When she reached his unbuttoned fly, she continued her kisses and licks over his boxers without making a move to remove his jeans.

She nuzzled and kissed the head of his cock still sheathed in his boxers, breathing hot air through her nose. Dean trembled in fierce arousal.

Her eyes looked up at him as she reached the tip of her tongue through the slit in his shorts and flicked it up and down along the underside of his head. She nosed the fabric open as she planted kisses on the underside of his erection and dragged her tongue upwards over the ridge.

Oh my god! Dean thought, if she doesn't take off my pants soon, I'm doing it myself and face fucking the shit out of her.

As if hearing his thoughts, she hooked her fingers onto the sides of his waist band and pulled his jeans and boxers down. Dean stepped on the backs of his work boots to remove them one at a time and kicked his jeans away.

Still squatting in front of him, she looked up; the thickest cock she had ever seen was pointed right at her face.

"Be careful with that.." he said looking down at her grinning. "...it's loaded."

"Oh, I was countin' on that." She looked up at him laughingly.

She slid her hand up along his well defined thigh to grasp him at the base of his erection. She knew there was no way she was getting this monster all the way down her throat so she worked the top half with her mouth and the bottom with her hand.

Dean dropped his head back in ecstasy when she sank him into her mouth and her hand tugged upwards meeting in the middle. She continued this motion in opposite directions until her saliva coated him down the full length of his rigid cock. When she had him slick and wet, she began working her hand and mouth up and down together, creating the impression that he was being enveloped completely. This whole process had Dean's legs about ready to buckle.

"Uhhhhhh" he moaned and started pushing his hips towards her face. Dean looked down to watch her eagerly sucking him, when he noticed the fingers grasping him had the letters D-E-V-I-L inked into them.

Her movements lengthened so that her grip came all the way up to the head squeezing it firmly. She moved faster and grasped him more tightly as her saliva oozed down his shaft.

"I am so gonna come," he breathed huskily.

She stopped abruptly and looked up at him innocently.

"Ah ah ah," she said mimicking him from earlier, "...not yet," she teased playfully.

"Not cool." he said sucking in a sharp breath and trying to maintain control.

She stood back up straight using only the muscles in her legs. And peeled off her soaking panties while balancing on her stilettos.

Yep, definitely a stripper Dean thought,

She grabbed him by his broad shoulders and pushed him back and positioned him so that was he was laying down on the table long ways.

She walked around to the end of the table where his head was and climbed up. She crawled forward on all fours; positioning her knees on either side of his head. She lifted herself into a kneeling position keeping her dripping pussy directly over his face.

Dean wrapped his hands around her thighs and licked his lips, staring straight up at her. His erection pulsed harder as she slowly lowered herself onto his face.

He lifted his head to meet her; his extended tongue slipped right into the soft wetness. He lapped upwards spreading her slick juices.

He tilted his head down to suck her clit into his mouth while allowing the tip of his nose to dab at her gushing hole.

She bared down on his face, rotating her hips in tight circles. Dean's face was coated with her juices as he nuzzled and kissed her passionately.

She bent forward without lifting herself from his face and took his swollen cock as far as she could into her mouth.

Her frame being smaller than his, she nudged her heels up under Dean's head so his tongue could still reach her while she serviced him with her mouth

She started hungrily sucking and licking him while still undulating and smearing herself all over his mouth and nose. Her elbows supporting her, she reached her hand under his thighs and cupped his balls massaging them gently.

Dean's body tensed; the defined muscles in his abs contracting.

She opened her lips around him and breathed out a panting breath and she pushed back pressing herself forcibly against his face grinding her clit onto the stubble on his chin.

”Omigod I'm comin' so fuckin' hard, baby!” she cried as her juices flooded into Dean's mouth.

His reaction was almost immediate. “Oh shit, I'm gonna come!” he said through gritted teeth thrusting his hips upwards.

Her pussy still shuddering and contracting on his face, she pulled her mouth from around him and let him shoot his load at point blank range directly into her face.

”Uhhhhhhhh” He moaned loudly.

Thick spurts of pearly come dripped over her chin and cheeks as she opened her mouth to catch as much as she could; running her tongue over her lips to get every last drop.

She slid her mouth back down on him in time to catch the last shot of come down her throat. She left him buried in her mouth as far as she could, until she felt his heart beat pulsing in his cock.

She sat up and dismounted him while giggling at the mess he had made of her face.

As she slid off the table, Dean caught sight of her.

”Um, sorry about that.”

”Are you kiddin'? Why, I'm as happy as a puppy with two peckers!” She laughed.

“How 'bout that?” Dean said distractedly as he watched her bend over the sink to splash water on her face. He sat up swinging his legs off the table.

She dried off her face and then grabbed more paper towels and wet them under the stream of water. She turned back to Dean and walked over to him extending the moist towels.

He took them and wiped the wetness off his face as she retrieved a tube of lipstick from the front pocket of her jeans and applied some.

”Have fun, sweetness?” She asked starting to dress herself.

“Fun? Oh yeah, that was tons of fun.” he said grabbing his jeans. “That was the most fun I've ever had without screaming.”

He stepped into his pants and pulled them on. He was reaching to grab his shirt when she walked over to his jacket to hold it up for him.

As she lifted it, the pistol clattered to the floor. “Oops!” she exclaimed.

”Uh, I have a permit for that.” he said reaching for the gun and jamming into the back waist band of his jeans.

”Hell honey,” she exclaimed, “...in this parta town you'd be crazy if ya weren't packing.”

”Oh, right.” Dean smiled has he slipped his shirt over his head and got his boots back on.

She was already at the door when she looked over her shoulder at him to make sure he was decent.

”You ready?” She asked.

He put on his jacket looking at her. “Yeah, let's go.”

They walked back to the bar. “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks pulsed through the tavern.

”Buy you drink?” he offered when they reached the gleaming oak bar top.

”Sure, thanks, baby cakes.”

Dean held up two fingers to the bartender. “Whiskeys.”

”...and a cigarette, please, Jimmy.” she called after the bartender.

They leaned over the bar chuckling at each other over the depravity of their tryst.

”So what's your name, anyway?” He asked.

“Kat.” She chirped taking the cigarette and a light from Jimmy. “You?”

“Steve,” answered Dean without skipping a beat.

She nodded smiling, knowing that he was full of shit. She took a long deep drag of the cigarette and let the thick smoke curl out of her ruby parted lips.

When the drinks came, they slammed them back in unison.

“Welp, I gotta skedaddle.” She wiped her mouth with a finger.

“Where to?”

“Gotta see a man about a dog” she replied.

“Oh I get it...” said Dean, not actually getting it at all. “What about your laundry?”

She started to rise. “They know me. I'm probably the only girl who washes her clothes here. They'll hang on to 'em.”

“Let me walk you out.” Dean got up and pulled out her chair.

“Why thank you kind sir.” She sang in the best southern belle accent he'd ever heard.

Her hips swung as she headed for the door. Dean was close behind.

She slammed the saloon doors open and strode out into the muggy night air.

He caught the doors before they slammed him in the face and followed her out.

She flicked the cigarette in a wide arch across the parking lot with her thumb and forefinger while she bounced down the steps.

Dean followed as she walked towards the '72 Gran Torino.

“No freaking way that is your car!” he exclaimed.

“Oh? Why is that?” She lifted the trunk and pulled out a greasy can of starter fluid and shook it.

“Because the 1972 Gran Torino Sport Fastback is one of the most beautiful American cars ever built and, with all due respect, most chicks don't appreciate that.”

She laughed as she walked around to the front of the car and lifted the hood. She bent over the engine as she sprayed a quick shot of fluid into the intake. The can was almost empty and ran out before she finished.

She tossed the can over her shoulder. “That oughta do it.” she said wiping her hands with the bandana from her pocket. “Oh, I know the full power of this baby.”

She looked at the huge smile on Dean's face as his eyes ran from the chrome bezels around the headlights, over the flared fenders down the coke bottle curves of the automobile.

“Why dontcha' hop in? I'll take ya for a spin.” she said sliding into the driver's seat.

“Yeah, why the hell not?” Dean swung himself into the passenger seat. He figured he could call Sam to find out the name of the motel and meet him there later.

“Be careful with that door sugar,” she chimed, “it never shuts right.”

As he cranked down the window she slipped a cassette into the player.

Dean smiled as the first notes of “You Shook Me All Night Long” twanged through the speakers.

Kat grabbed a cigarette and Zippo lighter from the top of the sun visor. She twirled the lighter in her fingers, popped the lid, lit her smoke and snapped the lighter closed in one sweeping move.

Dean looked at her impressed.

As she took a drag she looked at him through the smoke and turned the key. She revved the motor dangerously. The music held its own over the roar of the 351 Cleveland engine.

“She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean

She was the best damn woman that I ever seen

She had the sightless eyes telling me no lies

Knocking me out with those American thighs”***

On the third line, Kat closed her eyes and snapped them open revealing shining black demon eyes.

Dean jerked back in surprise. He started reaching for his pistol. “Holy shi...”

She stomped on the gas and the car lunged forward throwing Dean back in his seat making access to his weapon impossible.

The car fishtailed in the gravel. He started pulling out his gun and she banked a hard right throwing him towards the center console causing the weapon to drop. With one hand on the dash and one on the roof of the car Dean braced himself into the turn as the tires sent a rooster tail of pebbles flying. She flew for the exit.

She hit a hump heading out of the lot at 50 miles an hour which sent the car almost airborne. It crashed down just as Brian Johnson belted out “YOU shook me all night long!” Sparks shot up from where the chrome hit the asphalt,

Kat took another sharp right. The tires squealed on the road and the car shot forward fishtailing again. She straightened out the Torino and hit a cruising speed of 80 mph.

Taking advantage of the straightaway Dean frantically turned to where his gun had fallen between the seat and the door. He grabbed it and chambered a round as he quickly turned to aim. He was met with the muzzle of a Derringer pressed against his nose. She held the tiny gun with her DEVIL hand while the ANGEL one stayed on the wheel.

Dean kept the Colt level with his right hand as he raised his left.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” He said. “Hold on a sec.”

“What's the matter, Dean? You like fast cars and fast women as long as they're not fast on the draw?” she snickered evilly.

Her face became serious. "Where's the Colt, Dean?"****

Dean tried to stall for time. He indicated at the Colt in his hand."What? This Colt? You can't have this, my dad gave it to me." He said facetiously.

Kat quickly cut the wheel to the left, the car swerved into the oncoming lane.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Dean shouted, he tried to steady himself without dropping the pistol. About half a mile away there was a semi coming at them fast.

"Where is it, Dean?" Kat kept her cool.

"Even if I knew where is was, killing me is not gonna get you the Colt!" Dean's eyes never left the semi barreling towards them.

Kat kept driving; Derringer still in Dean's face. Her eyes were calm. The semi driver laid on his horn.

"We don't have it!" Dean was panicked. The truck almost upon them.

With barely a second to spare, Kat swung the Torino back into its corresponding lane. The truck flew past; it's horn blasting and then fading behind them.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Dean leaned forward panting in relieved disbelief.

"Where is it then?" Kat voice was calm.

"We don't have it, OK? I have no idea where it is. You think if I did, I'd be fucking around here?"

Kat's eyes flashed angrily. "Who has it then?!"

"Don't you guys have some kind of demon Face Space thing where you keep up on current events? I thought this was common knowledge to you guys. Here. let me spell this out for you WE DON'T FUCKING HAVE IT AND WE DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!" Dean enunciated these last words.

She could tell he wasn't lying. Kat looked somewhat uncomfortable about realizing she was out of the loop.

"Now would you mind pulling over and letting me out, Andretti?" Dean asked becoming increasingly impatient.

“Where? Up here?” she indicated with her chin towards a dirt road leading off of the main thoroughfare to the left.

“Whatever, just let me out.” Dean said impatiently.

Kat made no attempt to reduce speed.

“Slow down!” He shouted as she one handedly hung a louie into a dirt road swinging out the tail end of the car

When Dean slammed against the passenger door it gave way, dumping him unceremoniously into the grass by the side of the road.

He rolled about 10 yards still clutching the pistol. When he finally stopped rolling he looked up in time to see the glowing tail lights disappearing into the cloud of dust kicked up in her wake, AC/DC fading into the distance.

Dean got up brushing himself off and tucked the Colt back into his waist band as he looked down the dirt road shaking his head. “Fucking demon bitches.”

He checked his pockets and pulled out his phone. It was crushed.

“Dammit! Fuckin' bitch!”

He made his way back to the road and headed back towards Witchburners Tavern.

Before reaching it he saw a motel tucked off the road with a blue vacancy sign flickering. His eyes were drawn to something reflecting the the light from the sign.

Parked on the other side of the sign was the Impala.

“Awesome!”

Dean walked into the parking lot and scanned the row of doors and windows along the side of the motel. All of the rooms were dark with the curtains drawn, except for one. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he approached the room. Something felt wrong. The curtains were open only about 6 inches but through them, Dean saw everything he needed to see.

He tore back to the Impala and when he was almost to it he hit the ground and practically skidded into the front fender of the car. He reached far up underneath and pulled out a small plastic box.

“Yes! I can't believe this is still here!” Dean slid the top off the magnetic box and pulled out the one spare key that existed to the car. He scrambled up and unlocked the trunk and from the hidden compartment he found what he was looking for.

Without skipping a beat, he slammed the trunk closed and bolted back towards the motel room with something clutched in his right hand.

To be continued...

Footnotes:

*Corpsewood Manor is an actual place in Northwest Georgia exactly where it is described. In December of 1982 the founder of the manor, Dr. Charles Scudder and his companion Mr. Joey Odom were brutally murdered. The investigation into their homicides uncovered information about the victims having been involved in drugs and devil worship. The now desiccated site has attracted many tourists. Locals caution visitors about taking souvenirs because it is rumored that evil befalls all who do.

** Witchburners was an actual bar with pool tables and a laundromat that stood on Buford Highway in Atlanta until the early 90's.

***"You Shook Me All Night Long" is performed by the band AC/DC. It was released in 1986 and written by Brian Johnson, lead singer of AC/DC. The rights to this song are currently owned by the band. It was originally released on the album “Back in Black.”

**** “The Colt is a fictional gun in The CW Television Network's Supernatural. The Colt, and thirteen bullets for it, were made by Samuel Colt for a paranormal hunter in 1835” (sic) “anything that is hit by one of the thirteen bullets fired from The Colt will die, including creatures that are normally immune to bullets. Entities with mortality are shown to be more resilient, which may be attributed to their state of neutrality, unless the shot itself is fatal. The bullets appear to be made of silver, and are each individually engraved with a number 1 through 13. The gun itself is a Colt Paterson revolver...”

-http://www.supernatural-fan-wiki.com/page/The+Colt
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