Settling down for the night, you made yourself a little cot on the floor of the abandoned house that you had found, sheltering yourself from the rain that the storm clouds had brought for the night. The rain slowly turned into sleet, which turned into snow, boxing you in.

Thankfully, you had rainboots, but those don't do you any good when they're covered in muck and grime. Surprisingly, the water to the house was still turned on, allowing you to somewhat wash the gunk away.

The silence was abruptly cut short by the jarring sound of glass shattering. Shutting the water off as you ran to hide, a bit of glass got lodged into the bottoms of your feet, causing you to let out a quiet groan of pain.

Just as you thought you were safe, you heard faint rustling behind you before opening your eyes to find yourself on the ground, finding yourself having been knocked over the head with quite a heavy object, and a tall man standing over you.

Squinting your eyes whilst the man leaned forward to hoist you back up on your feet, you slowly put together the pieces. It was Dean Winchester, the most infamous monster hunter in the history books.

"You've gotten away for, what, eight months now? I would've thought you were smarter than this, than to come to the most stereotypical place to hide away, huh?" Dean spoke in that voice that made any monster want to hide and flee. "So, I haven't quite figured it out yet. What are you? Are you a werewolf or one of those bloodsucking freaks? Or are you gonna tell me you're not one at all? Cause either way, we're gonna test it, sweetheart."