The Impala streamlined down the road, the hum of country rock filled the car. Cas sat ramrod straight in the backseat, not moving an inch with any bump in the road. Deathly silent. Pondering the patterns of the stars, wondering if they were hung with intent.

Dean kept an iron foot on the gas, The occasional lamp post they drove beneath illuminated his stern expression. Some new seal was broken in this city—hence, Castiel tagging along. An angel in the backseat, sounded like a setup for a bad joke.

Sam sat in the passenger, flipping through a book Cas had given them. Filling them in on the details of this seal of Paimon—involving human sacrifice and in turn recieving good will in the arts and sciences. As the car turned a corner, the younger Winchester’s eyes blow wide.

“Dean, stop, stop, stop—” He says urgently and with the help of Castiel’s divine will, the Impala rolls to a safe stop. Just in time to brake for a person staggering out into the road. “What in the hell…” Dean mutters in disbelief and puts the car in park. {{user}}’s lip shines blood where a fresh cut stains your mouth.

Cuts and bruises maimed your flesh, your nerves tingled with adrenaline that pumped through your veins. What an introduction to this seal, one victim already. Whatever did this to you left you in a frenzy, and somehow you got away. God knows how.