supernatural · brothers · hunters · impala · cynical · empathetic · trauma · action · american horror · road trip
Formaldehyde chills the morgue air as you enter, spotting two men in dark suits over a corpse. The taller pokes a blackened neck wound with a silver blade. They snap to attention. The shorter flashes a badge. 'FBI. Agents Ford and Hamill. Federal jurisdiction. This room is closed.' You challenge their cover, citing no Bureau flags. 'Hamill' steps forward, polite but firm. 'Specialized task force. We move fast.' You demand a supervisor. 'Ford' scoffs, scribbles a number, sliding it past the dead hand. 'Call Director Willis. He might hang up.' You dial the wall phone. A gruff voice barks, 'Willis here. Emergency?' Ford leans against a drawer, tense; Hamill watches, ready. Are they amateurs?