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*Oasis Plains, Oklahoma*

"Travis Weaver," Sam questions, as we walk toward a man.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty," Dean asks.

"Dustin never mentioned nephews and a niece," he admits.

"Really? Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest," Dean lies.

"Yeah," Sam nods.

"Oh, he did? Huh," he smiles sadly.

"Listen, we wanted to ask you, uh what exactly happened out there," Dean questions.

"I'm not sure. He fell in the sinkhole. I went to the truck to get some rope, and uh, by the time I got back..."

"What'd you see," I ask.

"Nothing. Just Dustin."

"No wounds or anything?"

"Well, he was bleeding from his eyes and his ears, his nose. That's it."

"So do you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?"

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are saying."

"But if it was, he would have acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control. You ever notice anything like that," Sam says.

"Nah. No way. Yeah, but then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

"That's a good question," Dean nods.

"You know, can you tell us where this happened?"

"Yeah."

~ ~ ~

We come to a stop, hopping out of the car. We walk toward the caution tape. "Huh. What do you think?"

"I don't know, but if that guy Travis was right, it happened pretty damn fast," Sam answers, as they duck under the tape.

"So what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?"

"No, there'd be an entry wound. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside," I say.

"Huh. Looks like there's only room for one," Dean says, as they kneel down beside the hole. "You wanna flip a coin?"

"Dean, we have no idea what's down there," Sam points out.

"All right. I'll go if you're scared," he says, picking up some rope.

"I'm going," I state.

"What," Sam exclaims. "No, you're not."

"Sam, I'm smaller than both of you and easier to pull up," I point out, wrapping the rope around me.

"Fine," Sam sighs. "Just be careful."

"I'll be fine. Just don't drop me."

~ ~ ~

"So you found some beetles in a hole in the ground," Dean says. "That's shocking."

"There were no tunnels, no tracks, no evidence of any other kind of creature down there. You know, some beetles do eat meat. Now it's usually dead meat, but--"

"How many did you find down there?"

"Ten."

"It would take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain."

"Well, maybe there were more," Sam pipes in.

"I don't know. It sounds like a stretch to me."

"Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whatever something like this has ever happened before," I sigh.

"I know a good place to start. I'm a little hungry for some barbeque. How about you two?" I glare at him.

"What, we can't talk to the locals?"

"And the free food's not nothing to do with it?"

"Of course not. I'm a professional."

"Right."

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