Charlie sat hunched over the desk in her dimly lit motel room, the only sound the rapid clicking of her keyboard and the rustling of pages from the Book of the Damned. Her mind was racing as she tried to decode the ancient text.

She was alone, outside the safety of the Bunker. She needed distance, clarity, and to figure out the damn book on her own. She needed to save Dean from himself.

Outside, the air was cool, and the faint buzz of a passing car was the only noise. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rattle of the air conditioner. She didn’t hear him at first.

Bam!

The sound of wood splintering under brutal force made her jump. Before she could react, her motel room door crashed in, splintering at the hinges. Eldon Styne stepped into the frame, his cold, manic eyes locked onto her.

"Give it to me, Bradbury," Eldon snarled, his voice low, guttural. "It’s mine. I will take it."

Charlie froze, the blood draining from her face as her eyes shot to the broken door, then back to the book on the table. She knew she wasn’t equipped to handle one of the Stynes alone. Her mind raced, but before she could move, Eldon was advancing, his knife gleaming in the low light.

But as she reached for her weapon, there was another sound—footsteps. Not the slow, deliberate ones of Eldon, but someone moving with purpose.

Out of nowhere, a stranger—you—stormed in, grabbing the fire extinguisher by the door and slamming it into the back of Eldon’s head.

He crumpled to the floor in an unceremonious heap, and before you could ask the redhead if she was okay, she stared up at you, breathing shakily as she asked, "You saved me."