Superstitions {Dean Winchester 2}

Chapter 42

Born Under a Bad Sign

I pushed open my car door. I stepped out, shutting it behind me. As we all walked toward the porch, a spotlight cut on. Above it was a security camera.

"Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises." Sam stated.

"Very observant of you, Sammy." Millie patted his back. "You king sized candy bar."

"King sized candy bar?" I asked as we walked up the stairs. Sam also gave her an odd look.

"Have you seen how tall he is?"

"Should we knock?" Dean asked as we stood in front of the door.

"Yeah, I guess." Sam replied, moving to the window as Dean knocked on the door. "Hey, guys."

We moved toward Sam to see the glass of the window had been busted out.

"I'm surprised the cops didn't show." Dean stated. "Place like this, you'd think it'd have an alarm." He pulled a flashlight from his jacket, clicking it on.

Sam walked to the corner where the deck turned and wrapped around the house. "Yeah, you would."

I peeked over to see a box with wires hanging out of it. They were cut. So there was an alarm.

We unlocked the door and all stepped inside. Glass and plates were shattered across the floor. Pictures and their frames were scattered about. We turned once reaching the end of the hall. Dean took the led, bringing us to a at home office. A desk sat in the middle, a large closet on the wall behind the door. A deer head hung on the wall.

And a dead body lay on the floor.

Dean nudged the man with his foot.

"Yeah, he's definitely dead." I said.

"Oh, you think?" Millie asked.

"Hit the lights." Dean shoved his flashlight into his jacket.

Sam did. The lights flickered on above us.

Dean knelt, grabbing the dead mans shoulder and rolling him over. Blood was caked on the mans face and neck and it covered his shirt. The carpet was stained red.

"I'm gonna throw up." Millie said.

"Dean, I did this." Sam said.

"We don't know that." Dean argued.

"What else do you need?" Sam asked. "I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood?"

"Maybe someone is trying to frame you for murder...?" I suggested weakly.

"I don't know, man. Why don't you tell me?" Dean snapped. "Even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason. You know, self defense, uh, he was a bad son of a bitch, something." He patted the man down. "He didn't have any ID."

"I need your lock pick." Sam moved toward the closet doors.

"What?"

"I need your lock pick."

"Are you deaf today?" I asked Dean.

"Huh?" Dean handed Sam the lock pick.

"See?"

"Hush, Blondie."

Sam pulled open the doors to reveal a wall full of guns. Papers were taped to the other walls. Articles printed out about creatures.

"Either this guys a Unabomber or a hunter." Sam stated. "Dean, I think I killed a hunter."

Dean looked around the room. I followed his gaze. A camera. "Lets find out."