Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 3

Malleus Maleficarum- Part 1

"Let's go." You said before leaving the room. Sam and Dean looked at each other but they didn't know what had gotten into you. You didn't either but they were always questioning you if you knew what you were doing and it got to you this time. Maybe you were mad about the fact that Dean didn't want you to get real answers about why you were the way you were.

Sam and Dean left the motel room and met you in the car before Dean took off, doing as you said. You had a hunch that Paul was next and you were hoping that you were wrong. Dean drove down Paul's street but as you approached his house, the lights were all off. You were about to say something when you heard Every Rose Has Its Thorns by Poison playing. You looked around to see a car with its lights on and Paul sitting inside, choking.

"Guys, he's choking!" You said, getting out of the car, Sam and Dean hot on your trail. The driver's door opened and Paul fell out, hunched over the pavement. He was choking badly and you rushed to the other side and opened the back door while Sam got the front. Dean went to help Paul but there was nothing he could have done.

"Check faster!" Dean ordered and you couldn't find the bag anywhere until Sam pulled it from beneath the dashboard.

"Got it!" Sam yelled and grabbed his lighter and lit the hex bag on fire before dropping it to the ground. You sighed and ran over to Dean before checking on Paul. He was coughing but he seemed to be doing fine.

"You okay?" Dean asked and Paul looked up at you and the brothers.

"What the hell is happening to me?!" Paul demanded to know.

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you." Dean put it bluntly. You helped him up and he leaned on the car, looking at Dean.

"That's impossible! There's no way—" Paul got cut off by you.

"If we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now, who wants you dead?" You asked him, making him look at you.

"I-uh..." Paul tried to think.

"Come on, Paul, think!"

"There's a woman—uh—"

"A woman, okay?" Dean said, needing more information.

"An affair—a mistake, she was unbalanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago," Paul confessed.

"What's her name?" You asked.

"Wha–What could she have to do with—?"

"Paul! What is her name?" You insisted and he sighed, hanging his head.

"Amanda Burns."

"Where does she live?" You asked and he looked at you but you gave him a look that said, 'don't mess with me right now'.

"A few houses down from me." He said and you looked at Sam and Dean who nodded.

"Great. What's the number for the house?"

"652."

"Stay inside your house and no more affairs!" You said before leaving with the brothers back to the car. You grabbed your gun, handing Dean and Sam theirs before leaving the car and rushing down the street to the house marked 652. You ran up the stairs and Dean picked the lock before opening the door.

You went in first, your gun raised and ready to fire at anything that could come at you. You entered the living room and sighed, putting your gun down. Amanda was there but she was dead, faced down on her coffee table with blood everywhere.

"That's a curveball," Dean said from behind you. He walked past you and approached Amanda, lifting her right arm with the barrel of his gun. On her arm were three vertical cuts and you walked over to the other side of her, doing the same thing to her other arm. There were the same cuts on that arm too.

"It's the same over here."

"Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn't fooling around." Dean said. Sam put away his gun and bent down to look at the scattered remnant of the altar. You just noticed there was a plate of rotten food and the smell had now got to you. You sighed in disgust but watched Sam.

"Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here," Sam said.

"Yep," Dean said, turning around but jumped out of his skin when he almost came into contact with a dead rabbit that was hanging from the ceiling. "Oh god! Fucking witches! Seriously man, come on!"

"I could be a witch." You said.

"You're not a witch." Dean immediately replied and you shook your head with a smile.

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from," Sam said, looking at the rabbit.

"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick them huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again. And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?! The poor little guy."

"You know what I don't get, Dean? If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"

"Well, she got Janet, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick." Dean thought.

"Unless she was murdered as well. Look around and see if you can find a hex bag. If you can, there might be a whole coven we're dealing with. Maybe she got out of line and they killed her." You suggested and Sam noticed something underneath the glass table Amanda was lying on. He sighed and grabbed the hex bag you knew was involved.

"Found it." Sam said, holding it up.

"Another hex bag? Come on!" Dean complained. Dean grabbed it and opened the bag up to find contents similar to the one you found in Janet's bathroom. Dean shook his head and tossed it on the table before taking out his phone.

"Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?" Dean asked.

"You know I'm right when it comes to these things." You said, raising one eyebrow.

"I guess," Sam said, standing up. Dean dialed someone on his phone and waited until they picked up.

"I'd like to report a dead body, 309 Mayfair Circle. My name? Yeah, sure my name is—" He hung up before he could give the person his name and he rolled his eyes.

"Why are witches ganking each other?" You asked.

"I don't know, but I think you might be right. Maybe we got a coven on our hands." Sam said with a sigh.

"Well, we should go before the police arrive, yeah?" You said, walking around the crime scene and out the front door. Sam and Dean were right behind you. It was too late to do anything else so all you could think about was sleep. You would have to pick up things tomorrow.