Out Of Town Guest: D.W

4: "Kick My Witch Ass, Huh?"

Chapter 4: "Kick My Witch Ass, Huh?"

As Dean and Sam arrived at the witch's last sighting, Dean kicked his feet and sulfur dust flew up into the sky. Sam's fingers the dust and sniffs. It smelt like sulfur alright. The only question was how did it get there and what was the witch's next move.

"She left something behind, Dean." Dean looks down at the floor and spots the hex bag in the corner.

"God witches!" Dean sneers, curling his lips into a frown. His nostrils flared as he noticed a sound coming from the basement door.

Sam stood close behind, making sure Dean didn't fall into any of the Witches's traps. Dean cautiously throws the door open and cocks his shotgun. His hands held the gun and he shifted his body. The room smelled like a sulfur factory. The stench sneaks into the Winchester's noses.

The basement looked clean. No traces of demons or even a witch in sight. The oldest was grateful for that fact. He was in no mood to deal with any demonic shit. He'd had enough to last a life time.

For starters his own mother was killed by the yellow-eyed demon bastard and then his thoughtless father decided to make a deal with the demon himself.

"Help!" They heard someone screech," Someone for the love of god help me!" Dean looked over at his brother and Sam tersely nodded his head.

Dean pulled at the clear curtains and quietly snuck around the back to find a door. The door had claw marks imbedded in the wood. To avoid all blood shred, Dean yanked at the knob. He cursed loudly when he realized that the door was locked.

"Got bobby-pins?" Dean's head snapped around and he scowled at his little brother.

"No, Sam I ain't no girl!" He hissed as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. Sam rolled his eyes and began digging around his surroundings for anything to pick the lock.

At this point he was sure that his visions wouldn't do anything for them. He just had to think. Where would he find nails? He looked at the shelf and he spotted something. His fingers snatched the nails. Iron? Perfect that would do the job. He quickly finds Dean and starts twisting the iron nail into the hole.

"Help! Someone!" Finally Dean's able to pry the door off the hinges and displaces the door.

Inside the closet door, a blonde girl sat with her knees to her chest and rocking back against the wall. She looked like hell. Her face was bloody and her hands had strange looking marks. Dean slowly approached the blonde with caution.

"Excuse me..." His voice was soft, his hands were extended for her to shake them. "Are you alright, Miss?" She was clearly not okay. He knew that. It was just a nice gesture to do for someone who was locked in a closet.

The blonde stared at the brothers. Sam tried to go upstairs and returned with a glass of water. But she didn't move, all she did was stare. It kinda gave Dean the creeps. "D-did y-you seee He-er?" The blonde finally blurted out.

Her strained voice sent chills down both of the brother's spines. She pointed to the left and Dean notes the fingernails and almost barfs. Her fingernails were torn off her fingers. Poor girl.

"No..." Sam said softly," we didn't see her." The blonde shifted suddenly, showing her pained hazel eyes.

Dean cleared his throat." Did you see her?" He questions the witness and earns a glare from his brother.

She nodded her head slightly. Dean starts leaning forward and the girl shrinks back in fear. "Shh.. we aren't here to hurt you." He stated as he calmly reached for her injured hand.