Supernatural: Last Call (Season 1)

---Amy goes missing without a trace and Dean and Sam race to find her. She is held inside a hidden warehouse where a powerful, supernatural being in the form of a human is holed up. Inside that warehouse as she makes an attempt to escape herself, she learns the truth about herself and if she's really a Winchester.---1

-----------2

Episode 33

Louisiana, inside a motel room4

There was another knock at the motel room door again. Amy was sure this time that there was no one on the other side of the door because earlier today, no one was there when she heard the first knock. She hopped off the bed and stopped reading her magazine and turned the knob on the door, opening it up. She looked around in the doorway and stared out into the outside parking lot. No one was there. She slammed the door shut and jumped back onto the bed and finished reading her Hit Parader magazine. 5

The room was suddenly quiet except for her own heavy breathing. Her brothers were out on some kind of stupid hunt, as she would say, and she didn’t know when they would be coming back. She had asked them before they left where they were going and Dean answered “Swamp and no you can’t come.” Even though she thought this week’s hunt was stupid, she still wanted to go but Dean didn’t allow her so she was stuck as usual in the motel room reading old heavy metal magazines and sneaking on Sam’s laptop. 6

All of a sudden, the lights begin to flicker in the room. Startled, Amy looks up from her magazine and looks around the room. She sees how the lamp on the nightstand and the ceiling fan are flickering intensely. Only one thought comes to her mind. A demon is approaching. Quickly, she climbs off the bed and searches through the duffle bag on the floor beside the bed and pulls out a shotgun full of rock salt. What would have worked even better would have been an iron rod because pure iron repelled demons like rock salt repelled spirits. But her or her two brothers didn’t have iron so she stuck with her trusty and prized shotgun. It was a double-barreled shotgun, her favorite. Her father had given it to her on her twelfth birthday. 7

By now, the lights have stopped flickering. She walks over to the window and peers out it, looking for anyone who looks suspiciously like a demon. She sees no one. Once again, there’s no one here. But she’s soon wrong… 8

Out of no where, something grabs her from behind. It’s a human possessed by a black-eyed demon. She quickly whirls around with shotgun in hand but the huge demon picks her up and flings her across the room, slamming right up against the hard wall. She’s forced to drop her shotgun but not before she accidentally pulls the trigger. The demon is huge in size and muscle. Amy reaches for her gun but the demon grabs her by the wrists and then pulls her up by the arm, aching her arm a great deal. She kicks the demon but it does no good. She tries punching it but she still gets the same reaction. 9

“You’re coming with me.” He devilishly stated. 10

“I don’t think so.” She grunted, struggling to get away from him. 11

The demon punches her cold in the face, causing blood to gush out of her mouth and nose. He eases off of her for a moment and that’s when she notices that her shotgun is within reach. The demon sees her going for it so he quickly picks it up. 12

“You though you were going outsmart me? Think again.” He smacked her in the head with the butt of the shotgun. Pain racked throughout her head. She could feel part of her head split open where she was hit with the gun. She could feel the blood pouring out. She yelled out in pain as the demon picked her up and began to leave with her in his arms after she blacked out after she was hit in the head once more with her own gun….13

Louisiana Swamp, vicinity of Honey Island14

Tangled fronds of Spanish moss, dangling heavily from the lowest branches of native cypress trees, stretched their stringy tendrils across the path of the fleeing hunters as Dean and Sam tore through the swamp. The heavy, moist air seemed almost to pour into their straining lungs and threaten to drown them rather than replenish their oxygen-deprived systems. 15

A grimace of exertion was painted across Dean's face, mingled with a distinct air of 'I knew it, I just friggin' knew it.' Sam, the intended benefactor of said disdain, was in no position to reply as he plunged along behind his charging brother, long legs tangling in the heavy, sticky undergrowth. The movement of the vegetation in their wake was obviously more than just the snapping back of branches disturbed in their passing. The entire wetland area seemed to have taken on a life of its own with the sole intention of hunting the hunters. 16

Though the pursuer or pursuers remained hidden in the greenery, the thundering approach was reminiscent of a scene from the movie 'Jumanji' and the brothers almost expected a herd of stampeding rhinoceros to break through the foliage. 17

"Nice job dropping the rifle in the water, geek boy," Dean grumbled between straining breaths. He was completely soaked, his dirty blond hair dirtier than usual with bog mud clinging to his scalp. "Don’t suppose you got a Plan B worked out in that college educated head of yours?"18

"Hey, this is so not my fault!" Sam huffed as he ducked beneath some low hanging vines. "The bugger's got a low center of gravity, and you're the one always saying my legs are too long. It was like a linebacker running down a basketball center back there," he argued, feeling compelled to defend himself despite his body's desperate need to conserve the air it took to form the words. "Besides, you were supposed to have my back! And thanks, by the way, for jumping in after the gun while the thing practically ripped my jeans off."19

"What?! You didn't think I was gonna touch that slimy critter with my bare hands, did you?" Dean sneered back, turning his head enough to keep one eye on the path in front of him while allowing the other to burn a hole in his little brother. "That's our best rifle. And holey jeans are so you, baby brother. It's not like you need every inch of those giraffe legs of yours anyway." he smirked. 20

The sound of rustling leaves and snapping vines behind them grew progressively louder. Above them, long dead branches of the ancient trees began to shower down on them as the hanging vines were yanked tight around them. The brothers ran, ducking their heads beneath their curled arms protectively, and realized they were losing ground quickly.21

Temporarily blinded by yet another mass of tangled moss, Sam caught the toe of one foot beneath a raised tree root and went careening forward into the back of his older brother. He hit the ground with a thud and a muffled "Umph!" as Dean struggled to keep his own footing. 22

Sam lifted his face out of the soft, muddy earth just in time to see his brother turn in an effort to come back to his aid. Before Dean could reach him however, there was a distinct twanging noise followed by the hiss of burning rope, and his older brother disappeared from Sam's line of sight. A second later, Dean's dazed and startled face appeared once more, completely inverted as he dangled by one leg from a hog snare knotted in the canopy above them. 23

"Dean!" Sam cried, forgetting his own predicament as the thunder of pounding hooves advanced behind him. He was about to lurch forward when his feet were knocked out from beneath him once more. Helpless to stand amongst the chaos, Sam threw his arms over his head protectively and waited to be torn to shreds. 24

His anticipated demise proved anticlimactic, however, as the thunder rolled over him like a fog in the bayou. He was paid as little heed as a tussock of bog grass as the pursuers stampeded around him and made a beeline for the dangling Dean.25

Dean was momentarily disoriented from having the world spun on its axis around him. Shaking his head, he had just enough time to grimace and draw back futilely as the herd of wild pigs trampled over his brother and advanced on him in his helpless predicament. He paid little attention to the dozen or so average sized swine that found him first but struggled, eyes wide in panic, as the dreaded Hogzilla broke from the undergrowth. 26

He was so fixated on the monster hog, a thousand pound freak of nature with twelve-inch curled tusks, that he barely noticed the smaller, black-and-white, domestic-looking pig that had apparently taken a liking to him. He felt the small snout root under his chin momentarily, and batted it away. "Hey, hey! Hands off the merchandise!" He quipped absent-mindedly, never taking his eyes off the monster that approached.27

Dean barely noticed the frantic milling and grunting of the critters below him as he worked his fingers nimbly over the handle of the hunting knife at his wrist. He'd never hunted wild hog before, but he supposed the heart must be somewhere in the same vicinity as that of a black dog. At any rate, he knew he'd most likely get one chance to strike before Hogzilla tore him from the snare and made lunch of his ass. From the looks of the thing, it didn't go hungry very often, and Dean must seem a veritable seven course meal. 28

He drew his razor-sharp dagger, poised to strike like a cobra, and willed himself to wait for the perfect shot. The stench of wet, muddy hog was almost overwhelming, causing his stomach to clench convulsively. His chin trembled with determination, accentuating the familiar dimple, as he reached out with his left hand and placed it squarely on the beast's back, steadying his swinging body enough to place the killing blow. His right hand drew back to his shoulder and struck with lightning speed, sinking the dagger to the hilt in the space behind the animal's scapula. When the shaft thrummed in his hand, he knew he'd hit the heart, and Hogzilla dropped like a ton of hairy, stinking bricks below him with a stifled shriek that sent the rest of the pigs scattering to the wind.29

Huffing with relief, Dean curled upward on himself and climbed up his own wrenched leg to the rope at his ankle. He wrapped his fist tightly around the rope several inches beyond his ensnared foot, and sawed through it quickly. His head pounded from the blood building behind his eyes, and he almost slipped and cut his hand several times before making it through the hefty rope. Finally, he felt his foot snap free, and he clung momentarily with his hand until his body righted itself in the air, and he dropped silently to the ground. 30

"Sammy," he called weakly, as his lungs strained to fill. "You all right?"31

"Yeah," Sam assured him, stalking cautiously up to the fallen monstrosity. "I guess what they say about pigs being vicious when threatened is true. Good thing for me, they didn't even seem to notice I was there; they went for you for a change," he noted contemplatively. "Wonder what was up with that?" He asked, toeing the carcass in disgust.32

"That's easy," Dean smirked. "While you, little brother, are a demon magnet, the living, breathing females of the world, will always prefer me. They can tell actual testosterone from that watered down sissy crap you got in your blood." 33

"Whatever, man," Sam laughed with a shake of his head as he held out his hand to his squatting brother. "Only you would find the flirtations of a giant hog to be flattering."34

Sam helped his brother to his feet, and Dean balanced precariously on the raw ankle, but found it sturdy enough to walk on. They headed back to the Impala, eager to collect their bounty and get cleaned up. 35

Dean found some old, raggedy towels in the trunk of the car as he put the hunting rifle away and spread them over the driver and passenger seats with a grimace before settling behind the wheel. For once, he didn't mention the recently repaired damage to the car, a familiar taunting of his brother that had become habit since the fiasco in Missouri. He had plenty of other issues with Sam at the moment.36

"There's no way it's a pig, you said," Dean grumbled as he turned the key in the ignition. "No such thing as Hogzilla, you said. That myth was proven to be just some trick photography. College boy, in all his infinite wisdom, swore to me that this had to be our kinda thing. A werewolf or a Wendigo, you said." Dean's words were punctuated by his clicking jaw as he bit off the words accusingly. 37

Sam raised his hands in exasperation. "Hey! It was a paying gig, big brother. We don't get those very often. It was worth checking out. And you gotta admit, that was not just a pig. That was a freak of nature. If that thing wasn't supernatural, then I don't know what is."38

"You're just trying to make excuses for the fact that it knocked you on your ass, not once, mind you, but twice. And then you had the ungodly grace to drop the rifle in the muck," Dean argued. 39

"At least I didn't end up strung from a tree by my ankle," Sam sassed.40

"Only because you were already face down in the mud, giraffe boy. Smooth move, by the way. If you hadn't pushed me, I 'd have seen that snare a mile away," the older brother assured. "Then, after you got me snared, you just left me dangling while you got your girlie mud facial."41

"I thought you looked like you were having a good time necking with that little black and white one," Sam grinned wryly. "Don't think I didn't see her plant a kiss on you, Romeo. Come to think of it, I think that's the most action you've seen in months."42

"Whatever, Dude," Dean said more quietly, obviously skirting the issue.43

"No, really, man. You haven't picked up a girl in one of these Podunk towns for ages. What's up with that? Downstairs brain on strike?"44

"Very funny, smartass. In case you forgot, it was you who tried to turn me all girlie with the yoga stretches and crap. Hard to keep the downstairs brain thinking at all when kid brother's tossing me pictures of skinny-assed dudes doing downward facing dog poses." Dean stated, lowering his eyes in disdain. 45

"Well, what about all your other 'assets'?" Sam asked, placing unnecessary stress on the first syllable of the word. "You still got all those hot scars, right?" He smacked his brother on the shoulder with a sideways tilt of his head.46

Dean finally dropped his rant and shook his own head with a lopsided grin of amusement. "Yeah, more than I need," he admitted. "The thing about scars, Sam, is this. Chicks dig the old ones. The fresh ones. . .not so much." 47

Sam bit his lower lip and nodded slowly in agreement. "I guess." He looked out the window as they pulled into the parking lot of the Denny's they'd set up as a meeting place. He didn't want to say anything, but he hated seeing his brother's scars, too. He knew too much about the pain that lay beneath them.48

"Here's our guy," Dean noted, guiding the Impala expertly into the parking space beside a shiny, silver 350Z. 49

Daniel Burns, the proprietor of Honey Island Bayou Tours and Wildlife Observatory, stepped out of his car clasping a leather portfolio in his left hand as he extended his right in greeting. "Dean," he said courteously. "Sam. Did you find our swamp monster?" He asked, eyeing the boys' bedraggled appearance with amusement.50

Sam looked down at himself with a grin, extending his hands out to his sides, and said, "Actually, I think it found us."51

"It looks that way," Burns agreed laughingly. "So, what's the verdict? What was it? Can we open the tours again?"52

"Turned out the locals were right," Dean stated. "It was a giant hog, after all."53

"Was? So that means you killed it, right?" 54

"Yes, Sir," Dean affirmed. "You should be able to start your tours back up any time. Sorry we didn't find something more bizarre to add to your exhibit, but that was one helluva giant pig. Might be worth your while to stuff it and put it on display anyway."55

"I just might do that, provided I can get to the carcass before one of our resident alligators does," Burns suggested. "I just hope I haven't wasted you boys' time sending you after what turned out to be something I could've gotten a local hunter to take care of for me. There are a lot of superstitions linked to that swamp, and I didn't want to take any chances. When I got your number, I thought you'd be just the men for the job."56

"Well, there's no job too small," Sam dismissed, not letting Dean get started on his rant about the holes in his research. 57

"Especially when there's a paycheck at the end of it," Dean continued. He felt an elbow from Sam for his lack of tact, but he was covered in stinking mud and itching for a shower. Tact was officially suspended until further notice. 58

"Of course," Burns nodded, opening his portfolio. He pulled out a Mont Blanc pen, the mark of a true businessman, and held it poised over the sheet of checks. "To whom do I make it out to?"59

"Uh, Sam Winchester would be fine," Sam said, knowing that his real name was the only one of their many aliases that wouldn't draw attention from a bank computer when they tried to cash the check. Thankfully, Dean didn't argue the point. 60

"Okay, then five thousand dollars as we agreed, plus three hundred for your accommodations," Daniel said, filling in the ledger. Both Winchesters stared at the pen hypnotically as it floated over the page as if they feared it would disappear before they collected their reward. Somewhere in the backs of their minds, they each noted the small tattoo on the man's writing hand, but neither paid it any real attention as the check was torn out of the folder with a jerk and handed over accordingly. 61