IDENTITY CRISIS CH.1

"I am sick of you and your kind thinking that you can get away with killing innocent people. Stealing their identities just so you can get away with cold blooded murder just for kicks." Dean was circling the chair like a vulture to it's pray. The chair was scratching the floor, as the prisoner was trying to escape the binds of the rope. Their wrists rubbing against the rope, making the skin raw and bleed. The sounds of plea to escape were muffled by the duck tape closing the mouth shut tight, once and for all.

"If you ask me, that sounds like the most cowardly thing I've ever heard of." Dean continued as he stopped in front of his victim."Were you just born that ugly, that you had to change? Well it doesn't matter, because after tonight..." He paused as he leaned in closer to the young woman tied to the chair."...You're never going to do it again. You hear me?!" Dean uses the back of his gun to hit her on the head, causing her to black out. The squirming in the chair stops, as her head rolls to the side and her muscles relax, causing her hands to hang off the arm rests. Dean raises his gun and aims it at her chest. As Dean thought back on what had happened the last few days, he knew he was doing the right thing. The way the shapeshifter had gained his trust so fast, he couldn't believe he fell for such a rookie move. There were signs all around him and he just never noticed them until now. All of those people died and he could have saved them. If he would have payed closer attention he could have done something...anything. All he needed was one silver bullet and the job would be done. All he hoped for now was that he could save the woman who's identity was stolen.

Sam was supposed to call him when he found the original woman, but he hadn't heard anything yet and his patients was running thin. The sound of the cold wind blowing, causing eerie whistling noises throughout the night, along with a baby crying and children running down the halls upstairs, and the faint sound of the elevator ping. If it wasn't for this thing, this monster, he would have been able to relax and possibly enjoy the nice hotel and it's atmosphere.

The one thing he hated the most was the way they knew exactly which buttons to press. They knew what cords to strike, just to get you on their side, trying to make you believe them. Dean remembered how the shapeshifter in St. Louis stole his identity and framed him. I mean, how could he not forget? It ruined his life. The thought of more of these things ruining other peoples lives, started to make Dean wonder; how many innocent people were in jail suffering just because of these creatures.
That was it. He couldn't take it any more, and now he could finally get his revenge. Dean narrowed his eyes on her, with a piercing glare and clenched jaw. He adjusted his gun and steadied his aim. His finger slowly started to tighten on the trigger. The time had come, then a load bang was heard throughout the hotel room.


Hogeland, Montana. Earlier that week...

It was mid-February and light snowflakes were falling and clinging to everything they touched. The air was cold with a brisk wind, allowing the flakes of snow to dance in the air. Up and down, left and right, swirling here and there, until finally landing on a few long strands of brown hair. The flake slowly melted from the heat radiating off of Sam's head.

Sam was wearing a red plaid shirt with a with a white t-shirt underneath and his tan coat over both, to keep him warm along with a pair of worn blue jeans. That was pretty much the same deal with Dean, except his shirt was a solid navy blue and was unbuttoned, with a grey t-shirt under it. Dean was also sporting his brown leather jacket and torn jeans, as he climbed out of the car.

"I swear Dean, only you could find a place like this." Sam said as he closed the door to the Impala.

"Like what?" Dean responded as he walked to the back of the car.

"Come on. The Tequila Sunrise?"

"What?" Dean asked as innocently as possible, while opening the trunk. "It's a classy hotel. I thought it would be a nice place to stay at before we head down to Powderville."

Sam picked up his backpack and swung it on his right shoulder. "Are you sure there's a hunt down there?"

"Yeah. There's a shapeshifter that's been causing some trouble. Why do ask?" Dean questioned as he grabbed his duffel and closed the trunk.

"Just double checking and making sure it's not the fact that Powderville is the home to Boot Hill Cemetery."

"Is it?" Dean asked while heading towards the glass doors to the hotel. "Huh. You learn something new every day." Dean finished as he pulled open one of the four doors. He walked in and held the door until Sam took ahold of it for himself.

They walked across the red and maroon patterned carpeted floor, to the service desk. The walls were tan with elegant paintings hanging from them. The massive room was lit from simple light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, giving the room a soft glow. There were sounds of clinking glasses coming from the hotel bar, which was on Dean's list of things to do later that night.

They were greeted by a young woman with long brown hair pulled back into a nice and low ponytail. "Welcome to the Tequila Sunrise. How may I help you?"

"Uh, my brother and I were looking for a place to stay for a few nights, and rumor has it that you have some." Dean replied as he showed the woman his winning smile.

"Well you would be correct, sir. We have plenty of rooms available. What kind of room would you like?" The woman started looking up the different rooms available on the computer. "We have: the honeymoon suite with a king sized bed and a lounge; our smaller suites with just a king sized bed; a single room with two queens; two single rooms with a connecting door; or two rooms with two queen beds each with or without a connecting door." She looked up and saw Dean's amazed expression. He was used to "Two queens or one king?" But now he had multiple choices.

"We'll take the singles with a connecting door, please?" Sam asked politely with a small smile.

"Alrighty. Two singles it is. Will you be paying with cash, a check or a credit card?"

"Uh, credit." Dean said already pulling his card out of his wallet. The brunette took the card and started getting everything in order.

"This is nice place you got here. Is it yours?" Dean asked while admiring the handy work.

"No. That would be Maz Clarington. He inherited the place after his uncle retired and moved to Florida."

Dean nodded his head in false fascination, then looked at her name tag. "Morana. What is that, Swedish?"

"It's Slavic, actually."

"Well it's beautiful name."

Morana looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you."

After she approved their card, she handed them two keys with hotel brand key chains hanging from them. "Would like somebody to assist you to your room?"

"That would be-"

"I think we could find it on our own, but thanks any ways." Sam replied, cutting Dean off.

They started heading down the long hall and stopped in front of the bronze colored elevator doors. Sam started to reach his hand toward the up button on the wall, but Dean rushed in front of him and hit it before he could. "How old are you?" Sam asked a little annoyed.

"When am I ever going to have a chance to press a button again on an elevator?"

"Gee I don't know. Maybe on our way up to the room in the elevator, going back down when you want to get a beer, or coming back up totally drunk. And knowing you, you'd probably press all of them."

"You spoil my fun, you know that?" Dean said, shaking his head in disappointment, then turning toward the elevator. "Why did you tell her that we didn't need any help?"

"Umm because we don't and you just want her number."

Just then the doors slide open to reveal the carpeted elevator with mirrored walls. Dean followed Sam in and quickly pushed the button to the fourth floor.

"She was totally into me." Dean said as he leaned against the wall next to the buttons, while Sam was standing in the middle waiting for the door to open.

"Whatever you say, Dean."

"Aww is little Sammy jealous?"

"What's there to be jealous of? You didn't get her number, that means she's fare game."

"Fare game? You like her!"

"I never said that."

"Then why else would you say that?"

"Let's just forget it, because now you're just twisting my words around." Dean laughed at Sam. The door pinged as it stopped, then carefully opened. "So what rooms are we in?"

"Umm 427 and 429." Dean replied, while checking the keys. He handed Sam the key to room 429. "Here. You can have this room."

"Why?" Sam asked, a little suspicious of Dean.

"There's no way that I'm staying in murder central."

"Where?"

"Murder central? The room closest to the stair well, for an easy get away?" Dean asked looking for any sign of recognition in Sam's eyes. "Murder central." He repeated as Sam waved it off and started walking away.