So what are you the narrator now?
"I'm really not into guns, so I suggest you put it down, pretty boy" A woman's voice drawled, there was no fear there , and the tone was too lazy to carry any real command.
"Well, see I really like guns, and this one is a personal favourite, so I won't be doing that." A man's voice responded. His tone was fairly cocky, but there was the smallest hint of fear to it, if you knew him well enough to recognise it.
"Works" The woman responded in a nonchalant tone, before moving just a little faster than a human being should have been able to, and knocked him out with a smooth roundhouse kick, before stooping to disarm him.
"Damn, but it's a shame to mess up that face" She sighed mock regretfully, before flipping her cellphone.
"Hey B...I found something...Maybe what's doing this...Me...What else would I be?...I'm five by five..."
Sam woke with a start and turned over at the sound of someone entering the motel room. The man who had held the gun. His older brother Dean.