FicWad

Maras are creatures in Norse mythology that take the form of beautiful men or women (whatever you prefer). They sit on the chest of their victims and steal their souls, it is said to feel like drowning. They are very similar to the Germanic Alp, Mare, or Trud which can sneak through the smallest hole in a house, the Alp is also believed to crush animals to death. It is believed that some witches can send an Alp to those they hate or are angry with by merely thinking of it. Some also believe they are the cause of nightmares. Alps, Maras, and Truds are all said to be extremely intelligent. They carefully choose their appearance.

Carson City, Nevada
Dean turned to Sam and eyed him questioningly, "Have you found anything interesting?" He asked.
" Well, in Kalispell, Montana, six people have died in their sleep in the past month." Sam answered
"Why would we investigate people dying in their sleep? You do realize that it's a totally normal way to die, right?" Dean asked smirking at Sam, He looked into things too much sometimes. People die in their sleep all the time.
"They all lived in the same neighborhood, on the same street. Oh and get this, they were all under forty and in good health. You still think these are your everyday 'going peacefully into the night' kind of deaths?"
Dean sat down on the bed considering the likelihood of that happening naturally. The more he thought about it, the less it seemed a mere coincidence. "Ok, I'll admit you were right, that's not normal. So, how did they die anyway?"
"They suffocated. One of them had *sleep apnea, so that might explain him suffocating, but the rest of them were fine.
"I think something's going on, and we should go check it out. It is our job." Sam over emphasized the word job, Sam personally didn't think job was the right word. It made it sound like they were being paid to do this, to hunt. But, he knew it would get to Dean. It made him feel like it was his duty to help these people who had no idea anything was wrong.
Dean had no idea how people didn't notice all the strange supernatural happenings that transpired all around them. The neighbor who seemed to look different from day to day, the park were a women committed suicide after she found out her husband was having an affair.
Normal people were so blind, they didn't notice the small but obvious messages phantoms left behind. People who did notice things were thought of as insane and shunned by the average world as freaks or monsters themselves.
Shaking himself from this rather melancholy train of thought, Dean turned to Sam "Ok, we're going, this could be interesting," He said reluctantly "And since this is a rare occasion when I actually think you're right I won't be annoyed if this turns out to be something perfectly normal." Dean said, winking at Sam.
"Oh yes, because being right around ninety percent of the time isn't nearly enough." Sam complained sarcastically.
"Exactly. How did you know?"
"Intuition." Sam stated bluntly smiling.
"Ah yes, Scully, a women's intuition."
Sam shut down his computer and stood up, "Well, lets get ready to go." He walked over to his bed and looked around at the motel's overly colorful, gaudy wallpaper. As he threw a ball of clothes into his duffel bag he stared at the large disco ball that hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. 'Someday...' Sam vowed to himself 'We will stay in a hotel that isn't a complete dump.'

An hour and a half later they were driving sixty miles an hour down a small dirt road. Sam wondered how Dean could be so neurotic about letting him drive the Impala when he drove 'her' so carelessly. Throughout the drive Dean had slowly but steadily turned up the music's volume so that now the Matallica was so loud that the car vibrated with the beat. After thirty minutes of scull rattling base Sam's head felt like it was going to burst from the pressure. He had tried to tell Dean to turn the volume down but he, of course, couldn't hear him.
Sam had reached over and turned the volume down only to discover that not only did Dean sing along, but he was a horrible singer. His brother had absolutely no artistic talent. How could someone possibly get used to this?
Eventually, he had feigned a migraine and managed to get Dean to turn off the music and let him sleep.

Hours later he had woken up in a strange motel with sequined wallpaper(where did Dean find these places?). He looked around and saw Dean sleeping in his boxers on another bed, twisted in an uncomfortable looking position.
Sam got off of the bed and stretched. He looked over at a clock and saw that it was 2:08AM. What a time to wake up. Rolling his neck to work out the kinks (from the hotel's less than stellar mattress no doubt) he worked his laptop out of his bag. "Meh.." he sighed noncommittally "May as well." The rest of the night was spent attempting to find out ore about the peculiar deaths that had led them so far north.

At 9:36AM Dean woke up and told Sam that they leaving in two hours.
"Last night I did some research" Sam told Dean as they got dressed to go.
"Ya, so what did you find out?" Dean said taking shirt off.
"Well, one more person died last night, and their car was stolen, but the police found it abandoned by the gates of the town."
"So, you're telling me that some creature suffocated this guy, stole his car, and then left it by the gate?" Dean asked putting his pants on.
"Maybe. You never know, I mean there was that shape-shifter that killed people for their money." He pointed out.
"You have a point." Sam seemed to be right more and more often now, Dean found it deeply disturbing.

Kalispell, Montana
Sixteen hours later they reached Kalispell. It was a small gated town with two large statues of horses at the front. Their was snow falling heavily and it thickly covered the streets and pavement. It was freezing, a teeth chattering fifteen degrees.
They drove down the long maze of unfamiliar road looking for Famin Boulevard in the old town. After fifteen minuets of wandering they found the timeworn Victorian houses. Three of the twelve houses on the street had fallen into a state of decay, and had police tape around them.
Sam turned to Dean, "Dean, those are the houses were the first three people died. Maybe the police have noticed that something weird was going on."
"Well, I'd be surprised if they hadn't noticed anything yet."
"Let's see if there's anything interesting in the house."

Dean found that the lock was very old and easy to pick. He pushed the door open carefully and peered inside. The foyer was lit only by the dim sun light that came in through the stained glass windows.
"Let's find his room. Do you know where it is?" Dean Asked Sam.
"Um, I think it's upstairs."
They crossed the foyer and went up the steep, narrow stairs. When they had reached the bedroom, a strange, but not unfamiliar, smell hit them. *Sulfur.
Dean knew at once that Sam had been right, something supernatural was going on.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*Sleep apnea- a sleeping disorder characterized by short periods where the person can't breath. The person with this disorder is usually overweight.
*Sulfur is though to be left behind were a ghost, demon, or supernatural creature has truly been sighted.
*I have no Idea what this city is like the people and places in this city are completely fictional, don't insult me if the city is completely off, it probably is.
*This is my first fanfic, so please when you review, be gentle.