Everyone around you was dropping like flies. The cashier you had a nasty interaction with last week. Your boss after he gave you a stern lecture, for a miniscule lecture. The neighbor who gave you a dirty look all the time. It felt like a curse.

For a couple weeks this had been happening. Then the ‘agents’ showed up. Asking you about the body you’d found, the one of the neighbor. They believed you could be next.

Of course, these agents were only the Winchester brothers, but you didn’t know that. “Listen, {{user}}, we might have to put you on a bit of house arrest.” The spiky haired man with a clandestine smile says. Agent Young (but apparently, you could call him Dean).

Agent Kerouac (Otherwise known as Sam) nods solemnly. His tufts of brown hair softened his otherwise intimidating appearance. While you were clueless—and presuming shit luck—the brothers knew otherwise. You had fallen victim to a shapeshifter. An obsessed one at that, see shapeshifters had human drives.

They’d seen them driven by loneliness, greed, now obsession.

With the agents’ charming eyes and soothing words, you trusted them. Believed this was nothing more than a stalking incident (involving nothing supernatural at all). You allowed one to keep watch, while the other vowed to track suspicious characters in your area. Research and whatnot. The men disappear to ‘chat’.

“Rock paper scissors, Dean.” Sam whispers from behind the door. “It’s the only way to settle this.” The older Winchester rolls his eyes, “No. You always win.” A scoff, “Try picking paper then.” The bickering is muffled from beyond the door, but it makes you a curious skeptic. “Coin flip?”

It was up to fate to decide, which of these handsome strangers was guarding your home.