The Devil Within

Welcome to the History Books Filled With Idiots Like You

"How you doing?" Dean nodded to a woman at the end of the bar. She was dressed in a dirty skirt and long-sleeved shirt. Her makeup was made to make her look like a ghost. Specifically Leticia Gore for the LARPing part of the convention. And you were rolling your eyes at the interaction. Raphael told you to leave Chuck and keep an eye on Sam and Dean. Apparently, you could make sure that they don't do anything stupid. The boys could also help you with the monster that was in the hotel. You already knew that there were five ghosts in the hotel. Two of them were harmless while the other three were psychotic murder children. Maybe you could help the boys figure out that the kids were dangerous instead of Miss Gore.

"Busy," the woman said, not looking up from her phone.

"Well, you sure look lovely tonight," Dean said, trying once again. "Especially for a dead chick."

You and the woman groaned at Dean's pun. It's always been annoying to you. Especially when you dressed up as a ghost for a Halloween party. Men were, by far, the most unimaginative things on the planet. At least thirty guys at that party made similar pick-up lines to you throughout the night.

"Buddy, I have heard that line 17 times tonight, ok?" The woman sounds absolutely done. "And all from dudes wearing MacGyver jackets." She looked up to drive her point across but found herself checking Dean out. "But you seem different."

"How so?" Dean asked, raising a brow.

"Well," the woman said slyly, "you don't seem afraid of women."

"Is he like this with every woman he meets?" you asked Sam.

"Yep," Sam said, taking a sip from his beer.

You snorted and took a sip from your drink. "I pity you, Sam Winchester." You shook your head and chuckled. "You have a man-whore for a brother and the Devil's on your ass." You held your drink out to Sam jokingly. "May you somehow find a way out of all that bullshit."

"Cheers to that," Sam chuckled, clinking his beer bottle to your glass. You both took a sip of your drinks when you heard a guest start to raise his voice.

"For the last time, I'm not making this up, okay?" the man said, grabbing Dean's attention too. "She's upstairs. A real, live, dead ghost."

"Kinda hard for a ghost to be live and dead," you huffed, downing the rest of your drink. "Time to go to work, I guess." You got up from your seat and walked by Dean, Sam hot on your heels.

"Excuse me," Dean said to the woman, getting up to follow you.

"I'm sure it was just one of the ghost actors," a man standing next to the original complainer said. You recalled that he was the original guy's friend in the show.

"Who beat the Hell out of me and vanished?" the guy questioned. He sounded a little aggressive, not that you blamed him.

"You saw something?" Sam asked when you got there.

The guy didn't like that and turned to snarl at Sam. "This isn't part of the game, jerk." The man looked back at his friend and shoved a finger into his chest. "Look, I'm getting out of here and you should do the same." The man turned away from all of you and stormed off as his friend protested and followed him out.

"What do you think?" Sam asked Dean, leaning down to his older brother's ear.

"I don't think that guy is a good enough actor to be acting," Dean answered. "We've got a hunt."

"Kinda ironic with the convention," you said, turning away from the boys and making your way to the front desk. "Let's take a history lesson, shall we?" The Winchesters followed you as you passed the convention manager. He was dressed in a tuxedo and looked like a hotel manager from CSI. The manager was going on his little spiel as you walked by and towards the front desk. Sam and Dean were able to bypass you with their long strides. Sam and Dean leaned against the front desk and tried to talk to the manager, leaving you in the dust. "Damn. They're not going to let me get a word in, huh?"