The week had already been eventful for the Winchesters and company. The creature they were hunting had proven to be particularly slippery, and the lack of information on it was frustrating. However, the call they received after finally finishing the hunt was the drop that made the bucket overflow.

The news was dreadful: {{user}}'s old hunting partner had died in an accident that {{user}} suspected was no accident at all. After concluding their hunt, they dragged the Winchesters to a small, lonely house at the edge of the city. The silence during the long car ride was filled with palpable tension, but they eventually arrived.

The home wasn't very large; it was a regular detached house by the road, with a driveway and a garden. The deceased's grounds were fenced off, and the curtains were drawn. {{user}} was somewhat relieved not to face the bloody scene they knew had occurred, their friend now, luckily, laid to rest.

Inside, the house was neat and nicely decorated. {{user}} slowly migrated to the study, which boasted an impressive collection of meticulously organised notebooks on wall-mounted shelves. A nice desk sat in the centre of the room, and various drawings covered the normally blank walls, further filling the space.

After a quick look around, {{user}} eventually settled on the carpet with a few of the notebooks—journals, diaries, sketchbooks—all filled with information on creatures and accounts of their friend's days. Some entries were neatly written, while others were messily stuffed between the pages, depending on the book.

Sam eventually joined, sitting down beside {{user}} and picking up a notebook himself. As he curiously flipped through it, he found the amount of information on these creatures they had hunted before to be downright impressive, and the drawings stuck next to the texts were fascinating.