sixwordstories | (no subject)

Miss the turn?

Made a few wrong turns. This fog's thicker than exorcist pea soup and the truck's lights aren't cutting it. Think I'm gonna pull over 'til it clears.

That could take all night. How far away are you?

It's fog, Sam. I'll stay off the moors and mind the axe-wielding maniac wanting a lift.

'Bout fifty or so miles if the gauge is working. In West Virginia.

You know with us there's a chance it's something more so just watch your back.

And on the mercenary note, I'm going to pack it in. Call in when I hit the road.

Fine.

The instructions I give you too hard to read?

Followed your directions. What did you do Mapquest this?

There ain't no road by this name anywhere.

No, I didn't mapquest them. I didn't even use yahoo!maps, despite that they're more reliable. It's possible that the road could've been renamed, or even demolished. *his face becomes red* I did get these from an old source.

Well, it's time to update.

Hold on, I'm going to back up...

SHIT! What the hell?

Yeah.

Jo, wait a... Jo? What happened?!

Goddamn blind spot! *Hits the steering wheel*

Hit something and... the truck's stuck. Great... just great.

Hold on- *Unbuckling her belt, she checks gun and flashlight*

What'd you hit?

I'm not to far from your location, do you want me to come get you?

*Flashes a light on the foreign body wedged under her back tire and gasps* Ugh... It looks like I killed Old Yeller.

*Holds her nose as she turns it over with her boot* God! Stinks like a morgue in summer heat. Looks like its... it's rotting.

You hit a dog?! *he's upset at first, but when she mentions it rotting, he becomes defensive*

Jo, get back in the car. There's more of them. I'm coming to get you.

C'mon Sam. Didn't exactly aim for it. There's twenty thousand black dogs out there-

What?

*Lifts her head, flashing her light as she looks into the distance*

There's nothing here. Just a dead dog that- Woah-!

*A violent burst of barking from under her tire causes the blond huntress to jump back and automatically draw her gun. Staring at its putrid form, long tongue lashing out, bloody and broken as it attempts to claw its way free*

Oh God.. what is that?

*from the other end of the phone he can hear the creature's cries of pain and hunger. and Jo's fear.* Get in the car Jo. Get the salt, and whatever else you have to protect yourself. Don't stay outside.

*how stupid he was to give her the directions. how foolish she was for going alone. Dean and I are coming as fast as we can.

*The howl is bone-chilling, long as deep as night and twice as ravenous, but only lasting a few seconds before a gunshot silences it call, Jo lunges into the truck and pulls the door closed, but as she reaches for her duffle bag, the radio screams static moments before the window shatters out and a hungry gnashing mouth tries to come in.

She braces her foot against either side of the door, kicking the vicious, snapping jaws back, a whip-like tongue lashing out, wrapping around her leg nearly dragging her out the window as the rotting canine's corpse falls heavy from the truck's body.

A quick sawing cut from daddy's iron knife frees and allows Jo twist away, dragging herself back into the cab, as another mouth snaps the air where her leg had been. As another head appears in the window, Jo fires, once, twice...

The blowback in close-quarters is deafening--*

*Snickers* Aw, you know kid, maybe you should get a GPS.

GPS is for quitters.

I dunno, it works when I get lost. Roads are for quitters though. Which is why I'm pissed my baby's still in the shop.

Lost your way, Jo?

Bad directions. Nothing I can't come back from.

Well that's good, being lost ain't never fun.

When you can't see more than five feet in front of you? It's a real picnic at Camp Crystal Lake.

Going after the legendary Jason Voohries?

Leave that to movie heroines. Call me picky, but if I kill something, I like it to stay dead.

Don't blame you there, Jo.

Stops recidivism.

But hey, if you wanna go on a throw alittle good blessings my way, I wouldn't exactly shy away from it.

As an angel, I'd be honored to.

As a perishable and trouble-bound woman, I'd be much obliged.

Need me to come get you babe?

Stay put. Too far and too foggy to be playing hero tonight, Dean. The truck's wedge up something tight and I can't see well enough to pry it off.

Then tell me where you are. The hell you expect me to leave you out there in that. You must have hit your head babe. Don't make me ask Sammy.

Dean, I've something to tell you... you're not Batman.

Call Bobby for a tow. I'm going see if I can catch a ride into town.

I'm coming to get you. Dude don't break my heart Jo.

Bobby is on his way. So am I.

Uh oh. Be careful!

Careful enough.

Is there such a thing?

Padded room in bubble wrap...?

...point taken. *laughs* I'm Chloe.