Enter Dean Winchester, Stage right.
“Hello Mr. Winchester.”
Dean froze, after giving the lobby a once over and deciding this was not the hotel he could afford to stay at, credit card fraud or not. Staying here was asking for trouble. He decided to get his directions back to the main road and take off.
But the manager just called him out by name.
The hunter turned, hand reaching up to a hip were his gun was resting just in the waistband of his jeans and concealed with his jacket.
“Mr. Winchester, it’s good to see you. We have been expecting you here at the Hotel California.”
Dean found that to be even more unsettling than the fact some guy he had never met before knew him by name. “Oh yeah?” He said. “How so?” He passed his eyes over the manger again and somewhere back in his mind the alarm bells were going off. The interior of this lobby…the hotel itself…the way the manager dressed…
Green room. Creepy vibe. Angels.
TRAP.
Dean gave the manager a smile. “You know what, I was just stopping in for directions. I think I’m going to just hop back in my car and get back to the interstate.” He turned and started across the lobby in long strides for an exit.
“I’d be happy to oblige sir, but your car has already been taken by the valet.” The manager announced.
Dean made a break for the door just as the manager finished the sentence. Back outside, in the waning twilight and the pink tinted snow and sand…his car was gone…with no trace of it haven been driven in any direction beyond that he had driven himself.