Troublemaker
“Jimmy, no! What are you doing?! Get back here!” a young teenaged girl follows her adventurous boyfriend into the woods. The sky’s black, only a bright full moon is visible.
“Don’t be such a wuss, Sara. It’ll be fun.” he calls back to her.
“We should be getting back. It’s close to curfew.”
“Screw the curfew.” Jimmy slams her into a nearby tree, kissing her neck. She tilts her head away, allowing him more access. He bites her. She screams, trembling in his grasp. She tries to get away but it’s no use. Finally, he lets her go, watching as her body hits the ground blanketed by crumbling autumn leaves.
“Female, age 15. Puncture wounds to the neck. Looks like some animal attack.” says a medical examiner, exposing the body to Dean Winchester, dressed in a suit, posing as an FBI Agent. “Her name’s Saraphina Johnson. She was found in the woods this morning by Ranger Daniel Harris.”
“Thank you for your time.” says Dean, politely, as he turns to exit.
“No problem.” Standing outside the Impala, he fits in the key.
“Hiya, sunshine.” Dean jumps and turns to face a fellow hunter he met a few weeks back. “What brings you here?”
“Vampire attack. You?”
“Same. Wanna be partners again?”
“I said, I work alone last time we met, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, since your poor old Dad got sick and died. Big deal.” Dean slams her against the side of the Impala, clenching her collar.
“Don’t you ever talk shit about my Dad! He was a good man! A hero!” He releases her, still glaring. An officer approaches.
“What seems to be the matter here?” says a man of his forties with greying hair, and a large stomach.
“Nothing, officer. It’s fine.” Dean says, trying to get him to leave.
“Sure doesn’t look like nothing. Say, how about you two step into my office and we have a word about it, okay?” Reluctantly, they agree and follow the officer back inside the station.
“Officer Wilkson. Luke Wilkson.” he says, shaking each of their hands. “So, you want to tell me what was going on out there?”
“I shit talked his Daddy. They were close.” Dean looks at her as if she had said “Satan will rise!” in Church on a Sunday. He pulls himself together and brings his attention back to the officer.
“Yes, she is right.” Dean admits, seeing no point in denial.
“Let me tell you this, I’ll let you guys go but if I catch you two again... You’re going to jail, buddy.”
“Of course, sir.” says Dean’s former hunting partner. They leave. Dean climbs into his uncle’s Impala and his partner drives off in her pick-up truck. Dean slips a cassette into the radio and Led Zepplin blares back at him. He smiles as his hands take the wheel. His partner goes straight to Sara’s house so Dean goes across the block for Jimmy’s. He rings the doorbell. An elderly man answers.
“Does Jeremy Spencer live here?”
“Why, yes, of course. I’m his grandad. And who are you?”
“I am Agent Will Farrell of the FBI.” Dean shows the man his badge. “I need to have a word with your son, if you don’t mind. It’s about the death of his girlfriend, Saraphina Johnson. I won’t take long.”
“Why, of course. Come in.” The man steps aside letting Dean in. Jimmy stands in the hallway, paled.
“She’s dead? How? What happened?”
“It appears to be an animal attack. Tell me, why do you think she was in the woods in the middle of the night in the first place?”
“She always loved nature. You couldn’t keep her away from it even if you wanted to.” After a few more questions about their affair, Dean leaves them.
“So, how did the boyfriend take the news?”
“He’s the vamp, Emily. The vamp that killed her.”
“You’re kidding?” Emily is astonished. “Your Daddy taught you well, didn’t he?”
“I was raised in the life. Unlike you.” Dean climbs into the Impala and drives off only to come back the following night. Jimmy sneaks out of the house as soon as night falls. Dean reaches for the machete that he had set down in the passenger seat and follows him. Once close enough, he swings the machete, decapitating the vampire. He hears an applause and turns to see Emily. “Emily, are you seriously stocking me, now?!”
“Nah, homie boy.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Over a drink, I won’t. Come on! It’ll be just like old times.”
“The old times are gone. Goodbye, Emily.” Dean hops back inside the Impala and drives off, leaving the entire state behind him.
Dean Winchester welcomes yet another sleepless night with a shot of whiskey. His dog, who was once one of Miracle’s puppies, sits at his feet, whimpering.
“What is it, bud?” He scratches behind the dog’s ear. A mind grain hits him, turning his eyes black for a brief moment. "What the Hell was that?" His dog tilts his head. "I've seen a lot of crazy things in my visions but that is the craziest."
