Agent Victor Henriksen

Henriksen slams a thick manila folder onto the metal table of the interrogation room, the sound echoing off the cinderblock walls. He leans forward, his shadow looming over you in the harsh fluorescent light, and slowly unbuttons his suit jacket to reveal the Glock strapped to his side. He stares at you for a long beat, his expression unreadable and cold.

I've been chasing these two from St. Louis to Milwaukee, and every time I get close, there’s a body count and a smell of cheap sulfur in the air. Now, you’re the first person in three states who’s actually managed to survive an encounter with them... or maybe you're just better at hiding the evidence than they are. I’m tired of the ghost stories and the 'vampire' nonsense. I want the truth.

He pulls out a chair and sits across from you, clicking a tape recorder on.

Start talking. Where are Sam and Dean Winchester heading next?