winchester, sam. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_demonbloo908) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming,@ 2009-07-12 00:22:00 |
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WHAT: Okay, that can't be a demon.
WHEN: Late afternoon.
WHERE: Lawrence, Kansas.
RATING: TBD.
STATUS: In progress.
One man. Murdered. Throat slashed. Traces of sulfur. Easily, from a hunters perspective, the culprit behind the entire ordeal could be tracked back to a demon. It was a matter of determining as to which demon was responsible for the attack that would be the official ironclad pain in his ass for the rest of his newly acquired case. Newly acquired? Or part of the already seemingly endless case he had his hands tied to now? No matter where the case belonged, it was already beginning to seem unlikely that Sam would be able to find the exact demon responsible for the mess. There appeared to be so many running around the city to begin with that it really wouldn't matter. He'd find a demon. Several demons. Hopefully and preferably? All of them. It was a matter of figuring out how to locate them before they got the jump on everyone that Sam had vowed to try and keep safe first. Which, unfortunately, seemed very unlikely at this point.
Adjusting the black tie at his neck, Sam waved off a group of the policemen working the scene and trudged on through the park area with a mask of irritation set onto his face.
Sam remembered this park. He had been here a few nights before with Ruby. The knowledge of what they had done here in combination with how easily a demon had been able to slip into the very same area to murder an innocent man made him feel terribly uneasy. Leaning against the side of the Impala, Sam raised a hand and dragged his fingers across his mouth. They could have gotten attacked easily that night. They could have died all because Sam was stupid enough to let his guard down. Death was something that neither of them could afford at the moment. Not with something so terribly important hanging in the balance, all depending on them. On him.
Exhaling softly, Sam removed the black suit jacket that was wrapped around his shoulders and reached for the door of his brothers car. The jacket was tossed inside, bringing forth the sound of a light thump on the floor of the passenger seat from the FBI badge that had slid from the pocket. Fake badge. Fake name. Fake, fake, fake. That's how the job was done. Information was an easy thing to get if one had the right resources. Sometimes you had to lie, steal, and cheat to get them. Doing the right thing, it seemed, was only possible if one did a few wrongs in the process. Sam was certain that there was a phrase somewhere on how that was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Of course, he didn't need a phrase to tell him that.
Peeling out of the park area, Sam drove down to the coroners office to check in on the body. A quick interview was done, followed by a brief examination in company of said coroner - which, by the way, was far from Sam's favorite part of the investigation - before Sam finally managed to wrap things up between searching the scene of the crime and digging in further for more details with the body. Pushing a hand through his hair, Sam took the steps down from the office and began to advance back toward the Impala with theories, doubts, and questions all floating around in his head.
Those questions remained, for the most part. But they did indeed change drastically when he saw something relatively...odd moving along the sidewalk.
It was green.