First but Never the Last
Summary: His first hunt on his own but certainly not his last. Sam-Centric. Pre-series.
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Quiet. That's the first thing he notices as he drives up to the small old house that no one visits. Tonight, he'll hunt alone. No back up; no big brother to save him if something is to backfire. He's on his own and he knows it.
Checking his arsenal of rock salt in a nicely made shotgun, he steps towards the haunted building with care. Usually spirits stay connected to where they'd died or how. This woman, she'd been murdered in the living room whilst her husband slept upstairs in their bedroom. Not many believed the spouse innocent and so, after her death, many attempts on the husband's life it became apparent to lock the husband up in an institution.
But this hunter knew the truth. The ghost of a vengeful woman was at large and he had to stop it before it did something that would damn it to hell for all eternity.
The air is chilly and the wind nips at his bare forearms, billowing dark strands from his eyes. He has to get this done before midnight. Otherwise he will have to come back tomorrow. If that is the case, he'll no doubt hear shit from his brother and father of his failure.
Something shifts to his right. His shotgun swipes in the air, aiming at nothing but dead air. The smell of sulfur bothers his nose but it's not time to be bothered by such things.
Hair stands on the back of his neck, something is behind him. Like a trained soldier, he swings his gun around and fires. The ghost screeches in anger but dissipates.
While it's distracted, he quickly pours the gasoline around the house and lights a match.
"Rest in peace Mary-Louise." The match falls, a blaze catching. He prays for her soul.