black and cherry red.
Early morning the sun had just begun its rise, and a dark cherry red car could be seen driving speedily on a long stretch of road pelting the rays of the freshly risen sun.
Inside this car squinting at this familiar yet unwelcome abundance of golden light was Alexander. He had been on the road all night, eager to return home to create his medallion among other things.
The lids of his eyes kept falling, battling with the weight of his fatigue, his concentration waning with each passing second. His frequent involuntary yawning filled the vehicle. He had left the town almost right after he completed his mission and had no chance to rest.
His arms were numb and bloodied from Rose's violent attacks. He had used some of his precious seconds in his escape to perform emergency first aid and bandaged his arms, but now blood had started to seep through the fabric.
Yawning, he used his one free hand to pull up the map on his car's dashboard screen in search of a place nearby for some much-needed shut-eye before continuing his journey.
The map brought up a few places however it indicated that the closest was a Ranger park with rentable accommodation. In a rural little town surrounded by tall trees called Lost Creek in Colorado, he decisively made that his new destination, believing that in his condition he wouldn't make it to his home base comfortably.
After a few more minutes of driving he soon pulled up into the car park of the Ranger park in Lost Creek.
Tired and weary he dragged himself to the reception area to request a room, holding nothing but a duffle bag. Luckily, they were still open and had a room available which he promptly accepted.
Too tired to notice the receptionist's flirtatious glances at him. He left a large tip with one simple instruction. "Do not wake me up. I will pay for whatever extra days I overstay."
His tip and abrupt demeanor momentarily snapped the receptionist out of her fantasies long enough to catch the unmistakable wet deep red that was soaking through his sleeves.
She jumped into action and offered aid to Alexander. "Oh my god, you're bleeding. Sir, are you alright? Do you need any help?"
This was an establishment near a forest and Ranger station. It had seen its fair share of injuries.
Alexander bluntly refused. "I'm good. Just the room please."
The receptionist hesitantly gave Alexander the key to his room and watched with curiosity and concern as he left with heavy steps to his room.
Upon entering his rented cabin he dropped his bag at the door and matched straight to the bed and immediately dropped on it. In mere seconds he was gone.
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Later that very afternoon on the same road Alexander had been driving, was a black Chevy Impala heading towards Lost Creek.
In the car were two men. One with short dark blonde hair, rugged good looks, and eyes that portrayed experience and confidence, he was the driver.
And sitting next to him in the front seat was a taller person with slightly long dark blonde hair, also good-looking in his own rights. Although, he presented as an innocent and introverted person.
From their conversation, they appeared to be brothers.
"I don't understand Dean, why would Dad send us to Black Water Ridge? There's nothing there." Said the taller man, his frustration evident.
"Maybe. I don't know, Sam. But Dad wouldn't be sending us there if there really was nothing there." Dean replied, with a reassuring yet firm tone.
"Yeah, but why can't he just tell us instead of leaving these cryptic trails for us to follow?" Sam's frustration grew.
"Cryptic?" Dean echoed with a smirk.
"Alright, professor. Look, we stayed and combed the place for weeks and came short. Whatever killed your fiance it's long gone. Right now our best bet is to follow Dad's trail."
"Cryptic or not."
"Cause if you got any other better ideas I'm all ears?" Dean explained a bit sternly.
Sam grunted in quiet protest. And receiving no pushback from his brother returned his full attention to the road.
The two later drove to the car park of an establishment in Lost Creek. Getting out of their car they made their way to the local Ranger station. On their way out of the car park, Dean spotted a dark cherry red car.
*Whistle* he whistled in admiration.
Dean stopped for a better look. Sam noticing his action also stopped.
"What?" Sam asked impatiently, arms flared.
"Look there, Sammy." He gestured towards the car.
"That right there is a 1960 Shelby Mustang GT500. Beautiful piece of machinery. You know only about a thousand of these were made." Dean said with amazement. "And that colour too. You won't find many like her. This thing is worth a fortune."
"Yea, nice car. Can we just go?" Sam asked abrupt and unimpressed. Before turning to leave and Dean took one last look at the car then walked after him.
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