Gripped and Raised from Perdition

Dean turned his '67 Impala down the dusty road in Nashville, Indiana. He and Sam were following a lead from Bobby. Typical signs that only a Hunter would catch. A couple missing person every couple years. All cold cases, the police just assumed the victims just decided to leave. They were just too busy eating their donuts to see the pattern and know what was really going on. One thing was for damn sure. Whatever it was, he and Sam would put an end to it. They had just left the house of the latest victim. Just like the others, He was a married man in his thirties. And he disappeared in the middle of the night. Their wives all had the same story. He had been acting strange. They had got in a fight. They went bed. And the wife would wake in the middle of the night to him gone, and the window open. Nothing would be missing, not even clothes. He was just gone.

There was nothing unusual at the vic's house. No EMF. They didn't see any sulfur around the windows or doors. It honestly looked like the men just left. And they couldn't find any connection between the men. They all worked in different places, had different hangouts. But that could be tomorrow's problem. For now, all Dean wanted was a bacon cheeseburger and a beer from a local bar, and a bed to crash on. Sam had been quiet for the last half hour, but Dean was okay with that. It was just one of those nights.

As the pulled into the parking lot of The Ordinary, a Orange '69 Camaro cut them off and glided into the parking spot the Impala was about to occupy.

"Asshole," Dean muttered as he pulled into another space. Sam just chuckled at Dean's choice of expletive. They walked into the bar and sat at a booth. The bar had an old time feel… just like the rest of the town. It almost reminded Dean of Burkitsville. He shuddered at the thought. 'please don't let this be another Burkitsville, I will never come to Indiana again if it is' he thought to himself. Across the table Sam pulled out his laptop, and began to do research on the area.

"Dude, not tonight. You seriously need to relax some. Have a drink or two. Hit on the waitress or something." Dean frowned at his brother, which turned into a grin as the waitress walked up. Sam was frowning now. The waitress was old enough to be a grandmother. And she looked like she had a permanent scowl on her face. Dean couldn't help but chuckle. After taking their order the waitress walked away… Dean took a nice, long, look around the restaurant and bar. He saw exactly what he wanted to see. There was a lean blonde chatting with the bartender. She looked sexy as hell in a white dress and leather jacket. The bartender poured them each a shot and they tipped them back together. Dean sidled up to the bar and leaned up against the bar beside her.

"That was a good one, Tess." The bartender laughed out as he poured two more shots. The blonde tipped back the amber liquid once more.

"Tess, huh? That's a pretty name." Dean said, flashing his famous, get-in-your-panties smile.

"…well aren't you just a tall glass of generic water?" Tess retorted, giving him a once over. She handed the bartender a twenty, and walked out the door. Dean followed after her.

"Are you from around here?" Dean asked determined. She didn't reply, she just gave him a disgusted look as she jumped into the orange Camaro, Dukes of Hazzard style, and sped off. Dean stood there shocked for a moment, and when he walked back in, Sam was chuckling.

"You get her number?" He asked.

"Bite me." Dean said. He then plopped into the booth and took a big bite of his juicy cheeseburger.