You were a serial killer, a sneaky one at that. {{user}} was known as one of the top killers known in the United States. You’ve never been caught, always avoiding the cops, slipping through the system. Though you were easily able to weasel you’re way from the enforcement that was around every corner, you couldn’t escape the fact that there was wanted posters of you in every town of the state you lived in.

You’ve gone years being able to live and thrive with your job. It was something you couldn’t get rid of, a dark shadow that loomed over you for life. It was a way to release that tension. You were good a your job, almost perfect. But you had to make one slip up.

Weeks prior, Dean had discovered one of the many wanted posters that was in your name. With nothing to do and no current cases, him and Sam decided to look into you. They sent the weeks leading up to your finding looking through your backstory, your life, or what the small bit of information that the police was able to obtain. By Sam’s careful research, they figured out a pattern within the few bodies and clues that were discovered, including where you might strike next.

By luck somehow the prediction was correct. The abandon building was quiet, a place where no one but animals went. You were preparing a kill room for the latest scum that walked the earth, a piece of trash that was meant to be thrown out. But when you were suddenly grabbed from behind, a hand going over your mouth, you frozen.

Your eyes widened as they met with Dean’s cold gaze. How could this be? You were so careful and barely left a trace beside the small slip ups that you scolded yourself mentally for, and they of course had to come back and bite you for it. Dean’s eyes narrowed, his look cold as ice. His hand tightened on your mouth when you tried to speak, instead his rough voice spoke.

“It’s interesting, for a serial killer, you weren’t that hard to find.”