Warning: Crack fic. I don't own this
There had been reports of two ghost sightings in Galveston, Tx, an island near Houston. There was Nicaragua Smith, an arsonist, burglar, and Confederate Army deserter, who is said to appear every year on the anniversary of his death. It is said that, if you listen closely, you can hear him cursing his executioners. Sam and Dean weren't very concerned about this ghost, there was never any signs that he wanted to do anything other than haunt the cemetery where he was executed and buried.
The second ghost, on the other hand, was a bit more worrisome. Belonging to a woman by the name Elize Roemer Alberti, she had killed four of her six children, by feeding them poisoned wine, in 1894. The newspapers at the time referred to her as 'The Demented Mother'. One of her other daughters had also been poisoned, but had managed to miraculously recover. Her spirit had been silent, but had recently become much more active. Eleven children had already been hospitalized for poisonings, despite the fact that no one could find a source of the poison.
Having researched the history surrounding her and her family, Sam had found that all of the recent victims had lived within three blocks of both the cemetery where they were all buried, as well as the home where they had lived.
Figuring it would be a simple salt and burn, Sam and Dean drove from Atlanta, Georgia, to the island. Arriving at the motel on a Tuesday night, they decided to sleep for the night, then get into the research in the morning, before going to desecrate the grave and burn the corpse of the woman within.
The night passed smoothly, the brothers getting up early the next morning. Dean left to get breakfast, while Sam made a horrifying discovery. Of course, with their luck, he honestly should have expected this, and he would've been sort of surprised that he and his brother hadn't come across this yet, even with all of their experience, except for the fact that most normal people expand grave sites outwards, not upwards!
Dean walks through the door. "I got you some of your nasty rabbit food, Yogurt, with strawberries and shit. You alright?" he aks, once he sees his brothers pale face.
"Dean, we have the worst luck. Ever. Period. Is there any way we could maybe call Bobby and see if he could get another hunter down here instead of us?" Sam was only half joking.
"Why, what's wrong with us? Why can't we take care of it?"
"Well, we can. I'd just really rather not." Sam turns his laptop so Dean can read the screen.
"What the fuck is wrong with Texans."
"Three? Are you sure?"
"Yes, Dean. That's what it says. I asked the librarian, the historian, hell, I asked the grocery store clerk. There are three."
"This is so not fair. Does it say anything else?"
Sam grimaces. "Yeah, it says that although there are roughly twelve thousand site markers, historians estimate that there is probably about four times that many bodies buried here."
"Fuckin' hell. That's just fucking great."
"And Nicaragua Smith was buried in an unmarked grave. In the first layer."
"We are NOT digging him up. He doesn't hurt people, we don't know where he is, I don't fucking care! Honestly we might as well just try to burn the whole fucking cemetery to the ground, it would probably be easier than trying to dig through THREE LAYERS OF CORPSES!"
They spent the afternoon figuring out where The Demented Mother was buried. And how deep. "Seriously, who the fuck just puts more dirt on top of old graves and resells the plots?"
That night, they manage to find the plot after more than an hour of combing through the giant, yet crammed, cemetery. It takes them several more hours to dig up, then finally burn the body. The whole while, they stay as low to the ground as they can, piling the dirt around headstones in such a way that it will not be visible from the road, which is in plain sight, only about a hundred feet away or so.
They head back to the motel just as dawn is beginning to break, where they shower and sleep, intent on checking out in the morning.
Sam is beginning to nod off, when Dean decides to interrupt his sleep. "What the fuck, Texas?"
A/N: This is an actual thing. The stories about the people are real, the names are real, and the three layers of cemetery is real as well. Here's a link: w ww . /news/the-grave-history-of-galvestons-cemeteries if you wanna look for yourself (just remove the random spaces)
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