Moose Peculiar
A Supernatural Fanfiction

Prologue

Voodoo

Risking a look over his shoulder, Sam shot around the corner, his feet almost flying out from under him as he hit a slick patch of pavement. He caught himself on the alley wall and pushed off, heart pounding. He was running through the streets of some dinky little town in the middle of the nowhere that was Nebraska. The only reason they'd even stopped was because Dean had wanted pie. And now Sam was running for his life through the rain-slick streets and alleys.

Thanks a hell of a lot, Dean.

He didn't know what it was, except that it was magical. Which may have been a bit of a no duh. While Dean went into the shifty looking convenience store, Sam had stayed by the car. He had heard a noise off to the side in a shadowed alley. He had gone to investigate – of course – and the next thing he knew, he was running for his life as something whooped and bayed for his blood behind him, shooting black balls of voodoo magic at him.

I blame you, Dean, he thought as he as rounded another corner, nearly running straight into a grimy dumpster. From behind, his pursuer chittered with gleeful malic.

Suddenly, the alley ended. Sam hit the brakes hard to avoid crashing into the brick wall before him. He whirled around, fists up, breath loud in his ears. He pulled his gun out of the waistband of his jeans and pointed it at the mouth of the alley. Slowly, his pursuer came into view. It wore a cloak of black, brown, and green, shot through with streaks of gray, floating a foot of the ground. Its left hand held a staff of black wood, the orb on the top glowing a sickly green.

"Vos revertatur in alces…" whispered a dead voice. The wind died instantly, and the silence held the alleyway tight. Sam's breath caught in his chest as he glanced around nervously, searching for a way out and wondering what the hell was about to happen. Then his muscles seized, and suddenly he couldn't move, couldn't even fall over. The next instant, the world flashed black and gray and brown and black again, and that was where it stayed.

When color returned to his eyes a second later, the stranger was gone and the sky had turned dark. Sam found his nose pressed against the stone of the road. He blearily got his hands under him and began to push himself upright. But halfway up, he stopped and stared. Something was most definetly not right. He didn't have hands anymore. He had giant, black…hooves?

I'm sorry if this chapter really isn't very good! The next one will be better, I promise, so please stick with me. Thanks for reading; please leave a review!