Bumpy gravel crunched beneath the brothers’ wheels. Adjusting their ties they step up the walkway. Dean checks his teeth in the reflection of the window after his BLT from the diner down the road.

Sam knocks on the door, swatting his brother to get some semblance of professionalism. They weren’t exactly legally impersonating Homeland Security officials.

This house held who they suspected was the next victim. Dean taps his foot against the porch, an incessant hum of an old Metallica song looped in his head. Sam waits patiently for the door to be answered. Finally, it swings open.

“Hello, I’m agent Bonham and this is my partner agent Bowie.” He smiles the least intimidating smile he can muster. An innocent glimmer in his eyes that swayed just about anyone whose door they knocked on.

“We just have a couple questions for ya.” Dean leans into the doorway, just barely. “If you have the time.” He offers a smile, just as charming.