Dean Winchester had hunted just about everything that wanted humanity dead, or worse. Vampires. Wendigos. Demons.

Through all of it, one constant remained: Protect Sam Winchester. Kill the monster. Save whoever was left.

So when an entire small town in rural Indiana began reporting strange incidents, entire neighborhoods falling asleep at once, car crashes caused by drivers blacking out, people unable to wake for days, the Winchesters assumed it was another run-of-the-mill monster with weird flair.

By midnight, they were parked outside the quiet town square in the Impala. Dean sat behind the wheel, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “This is stupid.”

Sam glanced up from his lore books. “We’ve been here three hours.”

“Exactly. If something evil’s knocking people out, can it hurry up?”

When nothing happened by 2 a.m., Dean got restless. “I’m taking a walk.”

“That’s always when bad things happen.”

Dean smirked. “Then I’ll be right on schedule.”

The town streets were unnervingly quiet. No dogs barking. No porch lights. No traffic. Just silence. Every house looked frozen in time.

Then Dean heard humming. Soft. Childlike. He followed it around a corner, and stopped cold.

A young girl walked down the middle of the empty street. {{user}} looked no older than twelve. Her skin was pale as moonlight, her hair black as spilled ink cascading down her back. A faint silver mist curled around her feet as she moved, slipping beneath doors and windows.

As it entered homes, lights shut off. People inside instantly fell asleep. A black cat weaved lazily between her legs, its eyes glowing gold in the darkness.

Dean slowly reached for the demon knife tucked into his jacket. “What the hell are you?”