A Story by Peter J. Hodgson

Sam and Dean drive across country to investigate a possible Wendigo attack with possible ritualitic overtones. This is a work in progress concept I intend on submitting to the company writing the Supernatural comic spin off of the really cool TV show! At



A short story by Peter J. Hodgson


The Black Forest, 3 miles from Texas

11:23 Halloween 2003

The road is dead and silent where truckers would normally pass there was nothing, yet the night is cold and the scent of death is only yards away…or at least the scent of a foreboding death. A man is running through the forest panting, exiting the forest finally and seeing a giant pyre, it is roaring high into the nights sky, the clear black sky glowing red with the fire as if singing a mutual song and dance. Marcus is cowering near the fire holding a hatchet close to his chest, a hatchet covered in very thick blood, he is scarred…so scarred, heart racing, out of breathe. Marcus was running from something and on a night like this it wasn’t something friendly or something that didn’t mean him harm. His jacket had giant claw slashes right through the worn leather through to the skin where it had all but cut but not enough to bleed to death. The fear would kill him that is how much he was scarred but there was something about this fire, the purpose built pyre, how lucky he was to find it.

“Stay back whatever you are…I am armed and I will use it…I am warning you, stay back,” his tone is low, he is terrified but trying hopelessly not to let it know.

Suddenly something big and hairy rushes past him, its roar is loud and piercing, it didn’t like the fire but it had started to pursue the man and now it intended on finishing! The man falls down, falls into the fire screaming, the fire took quickly. Marcus ran on fire, away from the fire into the forest he hoped that the flapping of leaves would flap out the fire somehow…anything was better than lying there burning. All is lost, too far burnt and the pain is unbearable, the skin was sizzling away…short of breath and suddenly death. The fire still burns high into the night sky, oblivious.


Present Day


Sam is driving down the road, Dean is sitting in the passenger seat watching Sam and his driving. Dean was hesitant to let anyone else but him drive his baby anyway let alone park it.

“What are you looking at?” says Sam in an overly annoyed tone, aware that Dead has been watching him on and off for forty miles.

“Nothing…except you drive like a girl!” Dean smiles then pushes in a Metallica CD and begins to hum the opening instrumental of his favourite track ‘Enter Sandman’ whilst nodding his head to the bass.

“What?” Sam pauses the CD and looks at Dean with an annoyed cross brow.

Dean is laughing and has his hands in the ‘come on I was only kidding’pose meanwhile Sam is still looking at him.

“Dude your being a sissy! I let you drive my car you gotta take the insults that come with it, sorry bro it’s the game we play.”

“You’re really scarred aren’t you?” says Sam.


“Afraid that I might bust up your car or get it scratched,” Sam swerves on the empty road deliberately, Dean grabs his seat and the door and bolts upright.

“Dude you scratch my car and im kicking your b***h a*s and throwing the soar bloody bashed thing in a rock salt barrel!” says Dean.

Sam chuckles then fixes his eyes on the road, satisfied that his actions has wiped the smug grin off Deans face. Dean quickly changes the subject to whitewash loosing to his little brother.

“Where are we going Scully?”

“Scully? Have you ever seen The X Files?”

“Sure Scully’s the alien probing obsessed dude,” Dean says so sure of himself and nodding.

“You really know your stuff,” Sam rolls his eyes throwing Dean a bone knowing that Scully is the chick.

Sam throws Dean a file filled with reports and a copy of the illegally obtained police reports and statements including photographs of various burnt or clawed and half eaten victims.

“It started last Halloween, one victim every other night killed, gouged and occasionally eaten. Local police are afraid to comb the area for anymore than what the bodies turned up like tooth fragments and nails imbedded in the wounds,” says Sam whilst he cranks the window down feeling the heat from old sunny Texas.

Dean takes a handful of photos out, the file bulged with them and begins to flick through them one by one trying to find and patterns or a connection to something they had hunted before. Deans brow dips slightly, no surprises here, Sam looks at him expecting a jolt of a revelation being that Dean is his older brother and has been hunting ghosts and monsters longer than he.

“I know what it’s not, werewolves, wendigo’s or mountain lions…I am stumped!” says Dean then throws the photos back into the file on the back seat.

Sam looks at him shaking his head, Dean shrugs then takes a stick of gum out of the travel pack of wrigleys on the dash.

“There’s gotta be something? Check dads journal,” Sam says persistently.

“There’s nothing in there about any indigenous Texan monsters or anything that just attacks for the sake of attacking and occasionally taking a bite out of the victim.”

Dean screws up the gum wrapper and tosses it from the car window then slaps Sam on the thigh, Sam jolts as Dean laughs to himself.

“You really are a jerk, you know that,” says Sam nodding his head characteristically annoyed.

“Chill out Sammy, we are gonna crack this b***h wide open.”

Dean sits back and taps his hands on the dash along with the chorus playing by Metallica. Later they arrive at the run down gas station, the pumps are rusted and probably don’t work and there is a large built Texan sitting outside smoking a cigar. Dean and Sam exit the car and approach the Texan guy, he watches as they approach completely untaken by their presence. Sam nudges Dean to go over and talk to the guy, Sam seems intimidated by this large man who looks like he could kill a wrestler just by looking at him. Dean looks at Sam oddly, with a ‘you are a wimp’ expression, Sam nods it off and half smiles to the Texan but to the Texan it looks like he is wincing.





© 2008 Peter J. Hodgson

Author's Note

Peter J. Hodgson
What do you think of "the story so far" (see what I did there)

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diggin the "I'll kick your b***h a*s" threat. very dean-esque

Posted 14 Years Ago

I liked this - a lot.

Posted 14 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Added on July 13, 2008


Peter J. Hodgson
Peter J. Hodgson

Bradford, West Yorkshire, England

The following is a trailer spot for the new anthology availble from now. My art is availble to buy at:- The following film is the final cut of the above complete with soundtrack, enjoy .. more..