Sam glanced over to the gun, then picked it up and checked, again, that the safety was on and the chamber was empty. It was easy enough to chamber a bullet, but he didn't want one there when he wasn't ready to shoot. Then he put it down again. "The gun? No, I didn't make it. I'm...fair, I guess, when it comes to metallurgy. Dean and I have to make our own bullets a lot of the time. You don't find consecrated silver bullets in Wal-Mart, after all."

He leaned forward, taking a good look at the drawings. "What are they, then? They look kind of like a changeling...or maybe a lamprey with those teeth."