The next morning, Dean and Sam sat inside their motel room with newspaper clippings, police reports, and photographs spread across the table.
Dean tossed another file onto the growing pile.
"So we've got a hex bag hidden inside an ordinary family's house, and the homeowner ends up coughing razor blades until he dies. That's one hell of a witch."
Sam nodded as he looked through another report. "And there was another death two nights ago at a college Halloween party."
Dean looked up. "The apple bobbing one?"
"Yeah. Witnesses said the girl's face was forced into the water. When they finally pulled her out, her face had been burned beyond recognition even though she drowned in a tub of ordinary water."
Dean frowned. "Classic witchcraft. Every murder is getting more twisted."
Before Sam could reply, a rush of wind filled the motel room. Castiel appeared beside the table.
Dean sighed. "You know, one of these days I'd like someone to use the door."
Sam stood up and offered his hand. Castiel looked down at it, studying the gesture with a puzzled expression before looking back at Sam. "I don't understand."
Sam awkwardly lowered his hand. Dean smirked. "It's called a handshake."
Ignoring Dean, Castiel turned his attention to the case. "The witch is attempting to summon Samhain."
Dean's expression became serious. "Samhain? The demon?"
"On Halloween, the boundary between your world and the realm of the dead is at its weakest. If Samhain is summoned, he will raise spirits and other creatures from Hell. Thousands will die."
"So that's what these murders are about," Sam said.
"They are ritual sacrifices. Two have already been completed. One final sacrifice remains. If the ritual is completed tonight, Samhain will rise, and another Seal will be broken."
Another burst of light filled the room. Uriel appeared beside Castiel, his face filled with contempt.
"Castiel," he said coldly,
"why are we wasting time with these mud monkeys? If the witch requires one more sacrifice, destroy the entire town before she can complete the ritual."
Dean stared at him. "You've got to be kidding me."
"They are insignificant," Uriel answered without emotion. "A few thousand human lives mean nothing compared to preventing the release of Lucifer."
Castiel remained silent for a moment. "My orders are to stop the Seal from breaking. They did not include the slaughter of innocent people."
Uriel glared at him but said nothing.
Dean looked at Castiel, silently asking if Uriel was actually serious. "He is another angel," Castiel said evenly.
Dean stared at Uriel for a moment before letting out a humorless chuckle.
"He doesn't seem much like an angel to me. He sounds more like a demon. Talking about wiping out thousands of innocent people doesn't exactly strike me as a very angelic thing to do."
"Your understanding of angels is based on comforting stories told to children," Uriel replied, his expression cold and unmoved.
"We do not exist to make mankind feel safe. We exist to carry out our Father's will." He turned his icy gaze toward Dean.
"And don't mistake your importance, Dean Winchester. Just because some of my brothers believe you have a role to play doesn't make you special."
"To me, you're nothing more than another mud monkey. Your purpose is simple. Stay out of our way and know your place."
Dean met his stare without flinching. "Funny. For an angel, you're one hell of a jerk."
Uriel didn't acknowledge the insult, his expression remaining cold and unreadable.
"If you want, I can show you the way an angel reminds humans just how insignificant they are." His eyes began to glow.
Before he could take another step, Castiel spoke. "Uriel. Stop."
The glow faded, though the contempt on Uriel's face remained.
Castiel looked at Dean and Sam. "You have until nightfall. If you cannot stop the rise of Samhain, we will have no choice but to smite the entire town and wipe it off the map."
Sam stared at him in disbelief. "Wait... you can't be serious."
As someone who had prayed to God and His angels whenever he found himself in trouble, this was nothing like what he had imagined.
The beings he had always believed to be mankind's protectors were calmly discussing the deaths of thousands of innocent people as though their lives meant nothing.
"We are serious. We cannot allow another Seal to be broken."
Castiel and Uriel disappeared in the familiar sound of beating wings, leaving the motel room in complete silence.
Dean let out a slow breath before looking at his brother. "Well now, Sam... can you finally agree with me that angels are dicks?"
Sam shook his head, still trying to process everything. "Yeah... I think I agree."
"So... should we go get Henry?" Sam asked. "This seems like something big."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, we should. But there's one thing I don't get. If these angels are so powerful, why don't they just deal with the witch themselves?"
Sam gave him a puzzled look and shrugged. "I don't know."
Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and headed for the door. "Well, let's go find Henry... and then let's go burn this witch."
*****
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