Ch. 1

3K 83 6
                                    

Duck, run, jump, run, hide. He repeated the maneuvers over and over again as he ran through the woods, ducking to avoid the branches and jumping to avoid the roots and underbrush. How many days had it been since he ran off? Since his phone had broken and caused all connection to his friends and family to be lost? He didn't know. He couldn't know. He wasn't able to stay in one place long enough to get a proper meal, let alone look at a calendar or make a phone call. Over the days, he had grown weary and thin as he made his way farther and farther away from his home. But he couldn't go back, if he did, they'd get hurt, and he couldn't let that happen. 

The moonlight outlined a small break in the tree line, and he changed his course, darting through the small opening. Cool night air met him as he crossed from woods to the edge of aged blacktop. A small motel was laid out before him, along with a nearly empty parking lot and highway leading to god knows where. He made his way toward the motel, already feeling the tiredness from his journey weighing on his body. It was painfully quiet, the only sound being the crickets chirping away into the night, and his worn tennis shoes rhythmically tapping the pavement. It was chilly, with a hint of moisture in the air, and dew already settling onto the ground. 

The wooden stairs leading up to the motel office creaked in complaint under him as he crept upwards. As he reached for the door handle, his eyes caught his own distorted reflection in the bronze shine. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was a ghostly pale. How ironic. He turned the handle and stepped inside, noticing the tired clerk behind the counter. A small bell chimed above his head, announcing his arrival.

The clerk looked up, giving the boy a curious expression. "You don't look too well there, kid. You're covered in scratches and scrapes. Want me to call someone for you? Your parents? The police?" The man had a northern accent. He leaned forward in his chair, expecting an answer, but only being met with a slow shake of the head. He sighed lightly and leaned back. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd dealt with runaways, or just basic teens up to no good. As long as they paid, whatever they were up to wasn't his business. "Alright, then what can I do for you?" His eyes darted from the teen in front of him to the office window, from where he could see a pair of headlights pull into the parking lot. Seemed he'd get more customers than usual tonight.

"Just a single room for tonight, and if anyone comes in and asks, please don't tell them I've been here." His voice was pleading, and he was tired. He tensed up and turned his head upon seeing the lights, before visibly relaxing when he didn't recognize the car. He turned back to the man, waiting for the total for the night. The man gave him a curious glance before responding.

"Just for a night? Alright." He grabbed a pair of spectacles and slipped them on, before swiveling to the side to start up a computer that had definitely seen a few more years than it should've. A couple smacks to the side of the machine booted it into service, and the man typed a few things in. "That'll be... let's see..." He tilted his head at an angle to read the print. While he was figuring that out, the bell chimed again, alerting the current occupants of the room to the new additions of their little party. "Ah, there it is. That'll be forty bucks kiddo. Age has really screwed with my 'fine print reading' skills." He joked scruffily.

The teen reached into his pocket, pulling out a wallet and flipping it open. A brief memory of his last few dollars going towards his last meal slipped into his mind. Just his luck. "Um, sorry, I don't think I have that much..." He frowned and tucked the wallet back into his pocket. It was unpleasant, but it looked like he'd be travelling through the night too. "Sorry for wasting your time.." 

"We'll cover the kid's expenses." Came a gruff voice from one of the two new visitors. It seemed to have come from the shorter one, who had messy, dark blond hair. He was accompanied by a taller man, who had longer brown hair. "And a second room with two queens."

The teen turned around and shook his head. He ma have run out of his own money, but that didn't mean he had to take the charity of two strangers. "No, really, you don't have to do that for me, I can just-" He was cut off by the shorter man tossing a piece of plastic onto the counter. 

The man looked up at the group over the rim of his glasses. "Names for the bookings?"

The two men answered quickly, and confidently. "Sam and-." Said the tall one.

"Dean Winchester." Said the shorter one. The clerk turned his attention to the boy.

The teen wrung the bottom of his shirt nervously in his hands, too tired to fight the men's offer. "Right... it's Danny. Danny Fenton."

PhantomNaturalWhere stories live. Discover now