You got it!

Giants might be real, but at least Bigfoot’s a Hoax!


All of these thoughts crowded Dean’s mind and he was absently shoving his phone back in his pocket when it happened.

Behind him, a massive spring responded to his presence. A steel door thicker than a wall slammed shut behind him, and Dean was surrounded by metal bars as thick as his arms.

Trapped, with a hungry giant missing in the forest. No way to reach Sam by cell, and no way to get out of the cage.

To be sure, Dean pulled on the thick bars that comprised the sides of the cage. They didn’t budge. The massive metal door of the cage could be used for warehouses, and no matter how he pushed, nothing happened. The damn thing must weigh a ton.

Dean slumped down with a frustrated sigh.

Seconds later, a sound came to him through the woods. The crashing sound of footsteps, like he’d been chasing only moments before. The leaves around him shook, and Dean knew that Jacob was coming.

And he was caught in a trap.

A trickle of sweat dripped down Dean’s neck. They only knew a little about the teenager. There was no way of knowing how Jacob would react to them after his dash from the cliff. Why had he run away? Was he afraid of what would happen if he was around two bite-sized people while he was so hungry?

The footsteps were hurried, rushed. Dean hesitantly got out his machete, prepared to fight for his life if it came down to it. Sam was on his own by the cliff, investigating Jacob’s belongings and campsite. If there was a fight, and Dean lost, Sam would have no warning that Jacob was dangerous. No way of even knowing that Jacob and Dean had run into each other out in the forest. For all Sam would know, Dean was still combing the trees in search of the giant.

Leaves rustled, and a huge hand came into view as a maple tree was pushed out of the way with a lingering creak. Hungry brown eyes fell onto Dean’s small form, and deep shadows covered Jacob’s face as another echoing growl came from his stomach.

Dean took a step back from Jacob, and felt his back press up against the thick metal wires of the cage. He was cornered. Holding the large knife defensively in front of his chest, he was prepared to go down fighting.

It was hard to forget that every single bit of lore they’d found on giants specifically called out the fact that they ate people. Jacob might be reasonable enough, but this hex or curse or whatever it was might change him when he was hungry, a lot like what a werewolf went through during the full moon. Without fresh hearts, werewolves would die, so their instincts compelled them to hunt humans, even people that they knew and respected in their normal life. Jacob had only met them that day, and most of their time had been spent tracking him down.

If he was operating by instinct, he might see them as a threat. Dean had emptied his clip into Jacob’s palm in an attempt to escape a grab.

Dean hadn’t missed the hunger that shone in Jacob’s eyes when he pushed aside that tree.

“Jacob,” Dean greeted, a strain in his voice. “We’re all friends here, right?”

Annnnnddd our third correct guess! 

Dean of Nowhere is about the drifter that got left behind, the man who lost his family, and is now on a hunt after the campground of three very familiar characters is ransacked, and the third runs into the forest after injuring one of his closest friends.


It was a walk of a few hours, but Dean refused to admit he might be lost. The trail had vanished into thin air an hour in, and he’d continued on the same path. He had supplies in his bag, at least enough granola for a day or two, and Bobby would never let him hear the end of it if he had to call in a rescue.

Shoulda learned my lesson after the wendigo.

There was a gate with a strict KEEP OUT sign hanging on it. The gate swung wide open, a chain hanging from one side. Dean eyed it up. It was the first suspicious thing he’d found in hours, and he decided to check it out. This fence was his best lead since losing Bobby’s trail. There was no way of knowing if the demon had really gone through it or not, but he could always backtrack later on that afternoon.

If he could find it again.

“Shut up,” Dean growled to himself, berating his own thoughts. “I can handle myself out here, thanks.”

A walk of twenty minutes later, and he heard something out of place.

Is that… singing?

Dean quieted his steps in a heartbeat and stalked through the foliage in search of the source of the sound. He spotted flowers ahead…

Glowing flowers.

Suspicions aroused, Dean took a few more careful steps through the tall grass as the stalks waved in the breeze. He stared down at the flowers in confusion. Demons wouldn’t bother with something like making flowers glow. They spent their energy following twisted depredations. The most mellow of demons made deals for souls. A witch might have the magic for it, but in the middle of the forest, with no one else around for miles…

It was during those confused ramblings that Dean realized something was moving in the wildflowers. Letting the duffel slip down, his instincts kicked in, and he lunged forward. The song choked and stopped out of the source’s sheer surprise. Two hands closed around the strange shape, and he straightened, staring down at his hand.

A brief glimpse of what he’d caught sent his mind reeling.

“Whoa.”

June 11th excerpt: 

Jacob sighed and shrugged before reaching out to push Dean’s hand. “Sure, running towards the monsters. Sign me up.”

“Hey, as long as I’m running towards the monsters, it means they ain’t about to chase after me,” Dean shot easily back, smirking at the featherlight feeling of an amazingly small hand trying to push against his. On his own, Jacob would never be able to move the hand, but Dean played along and moved it away. Before getting out of reach, though, he curled his hand and playfully messed up Jacob’s hair. He couldn’t pass up a prime opportunity like that to mess with the kid.

June 8th excerpt:

Dean tossed his tie on the bed and shucked off his jacket. “Didja miss me?” he called out to the room at large, scanning for Jacob on the table.

Jacob only peered around the laptop once he was certain it was Dean. All human voices tended to rumble a little in the air, but the deep, gruff cadence was coming to be more and more familiar to the cursed teen. He poked his head out from his hiding place before stepping out fully.

March 20th excerpt:

With a quick grab, Sam nabbed the back of Jacob’s hoodie. It took one smooth motion to pull him out, dangling him like a kitten held by the back of its neck. Jacob’s feet were only over open air for a few seconds before he was lowered to the tabletop next to his aluminum foil cup, hitting the ground with a light thump that was inaudible to Dean.

Dean arched an eyebrow at Jacob. “You must really like french fries,” he drawled lazily, smirking at the sight of the bedraggled hunter standing down there.

March 16th excerpt:

Bowman fluttered up in front of the hunter to pass him on the way to his spot above the radio, the tip of a wing just barely brushing the front of the thick jacket Dean always wore. Best to do that before Dean was moving the Impala, as he knew the human would gripe at him for being a distraction.

He sat down on the dashboard with a huff, only twitching a little as the the Impala roared to life again. “It was cold in there,” he complained, quite glad to have left the strangely fake bright lights of that store. What little light had leaked into his pocket hiding place had fallen on his wings and provided none of the warmth it promised.

March 12th excerpt:

Sam settled into the crook of his neck for stability as he started walking, heading carefully out of the village. Bowman swooped ahead of the hunter, waiting as Dean grabbed his duffel bag from the ground. It hadn’t been any use so far, but he could never be too prepared in his line of work. He’d learned to keep whatever weapons he could on hand, especially when he had no idea what they might be facing.

March 8th excerpt:

Jacob’s eyes were drawn straight up into a more distant sky. Dean’s face was still framed by the green and gold canopy now a world away. He was over twice as big as he’d been before. Even leaning over, his intense green eyes were higher up than they’d been. Dean was colossal compared to Jacob now, and no amount of time with Sam or Bowman beforehand could have prepared him for the shock. Dean’s very breathing created a gale high above.

February 28th excerpt:

Jacob definitely heard the tone in Dean’s voice. There was a smirk bigger than Dallas on the hunter’s face right now, and Jacob knew it. Not that he wouldn’t expect it. Perhaps it could be considered funny, if he weren’t the butt of the joke. He wouldn’t say anything to offend the folks who were used to being this small, but… he definitely liked being tall better.

That damned shit-eating grin on Dean’s face was probably bigger than he was right now.

February 25th excerpt:

Dean grunted as the blow struck him hard. His arms loosened around Logan’s legs, and he fell on his side, dazed. The grass he was lying near danced across his vision, doubling and tripling as Dean blinked, trying to erase the ringing from his ears.

Sam… Jacob…