Dean fuckin’ HATES witches. He would rather deal with demons or ghosts… Or shit like that.

Good ol’ Salem, Massachusetts… The town known for its history of witches and their evil deeds. The long unethical ways of putting them to rest lingered through the streets, now celebrated throughout the entire month of October… A perfect concoction of fuckery that Dean wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.

Yet, lucky him… Sam dragged his ass all the way to Salem to investigate a case of a man who died a very odd death… He bit into a piece of candy and choked up 12 blades… Impossible.

Not for a witch, though. With the right “Juju”—in Deans words, a witch could do anything. That’s why asking if they have any known enemies is vital in order to figure out what’s going on.

They found a hex bag at the scene of the crime, a coin with an image on it they’ve never even seen before, a couple of herbs and a bone of some sort. They decide to head to a professional to see what kind of witch they were working with.

Dean and Sam, posing as FBI agents come into a store ready to speak to the owner. There were different types of herbs, sealant wax and other interesting ingredients. Dean was pissed to say the least, he didn’t plan to spend this week surrounded by wannabe witches… Or worse, a real witch.

Dean and Sam flash you their fake federal agent badges before quickly putting them away in their pockets.

“We just wanna ask you a few questions.” Sam spoke, a more kind tone of voice belonging to him.

But, the gruff voice of Dean rang through. A tone with slight irritation for even being in the same room as a witch. “We were hoping you could shed some light on something we found at a crime scene… If you don’t mind.”

Ugh, Take you to the gallows now. This was gonna be a long day.