It was cold. The girls shivered gently as the wind blew through Jim Singer's field. It was nearly midnight.
"Please, Nat, I don't want to be here. This isn't as much fun as you promised."
Natali smirked. "Don't be a pussy. Don't you want to know why these things are happening to us? Why you and Dina always seem to know what each other is thinking, how I know what's going to happen, before it happens. I need to know why."
"HAHA! Like that time when you predicted Cara was going to rip her pants in front of the whole town and she did!
"That was you, Dina." replied Cara.
"O."
Nat turned back to the candles, set up in a strange, star-like pattern. The candles were centred on a circle. In the middle of this circle were a few photos of the girls, a necklace, a watch and an emerald ribbon.
"Come on, we only have until midnight, it's now or never." Nat gestured toward the circle set out in front of her kneeling form. Cara and Dina sat gingerly around the other sides of the circle. The girls joined hands. Cara looked worriedly out toward Mr Singer's house, scared he might emerge at any time, welding a rifle and screaming at the top of his lungs. She looked back to the girls and smiled half- heartedly. "Hey, we are so like Charmed."
The other girls laughed briefly, but soon silence settled over the field.
Cara began the incantation, speaking clearly (well, as clear as you can be when you are speaking ancient Latin) and her voice rang out across the plain.
The wind picked up, fiercely tearing at the girls clothes and sending their hair everywhere. The flames of the candles flickered dangerously, and the tall reeds in the field looked as if they were going to be uprooted by the wind. Cara chanted louder. She had to scream the last word over the now howling wind, but then, all was still. The candles stopped flickering, their hair stopped blowing. The winds disappeared entirely.
"Is that it?" Natali dropped her hands, crestfallen.
"Guess again."
Diandra looked over her shoulder, to the place where a dark haired woman in a black dress was standing. The girls gasped, moving to one another's side in an instant. They stood there, frightened, amazed and perplexed all at the same time.
The woman smiled malevolently, and blinked. Her black eyes reflected the full moon, staring down at them from the night sky.
"Oh, come on; don't pretend you don't think I'm awesome." She casually strolled closer to them, now 2 metres away from where the girls stood.
"Look, you called me here, so what do you girlies want, eh? A new car, revenge of an unfaithful lover, oooh, maybe bringing someone back to life? That's always a favourite of mine. So what'll it be? Tick tock tick tock." She laughed evilly, the high-pitched sound echoing through the plain.
Cara stepped forward, slowly, taking a deep breath. "We want to know why these...these things have been happening to us. We want to know what happened to our mothers. And we want to know how w can stop it."
The woman grinned, flashing her teeth. "Oh looky here. The big girls wanna know what happened to their mummies." She pulled a sarcastic baby face, infuriating Diandra. She hated thinking about her mom. And what happened when she was only months old.
"Well I can tell you, I know the answer. But you're not going to like it.
The girls stood their ground, unmoving.
"Ok then." She looked utterly bored. "You guys remember. The flames. The man, well, I should say thing. Well, guess what folks, something happened on the night. The thing that stood over your cradle as a wee baby wasn't anything nice. Ten points for whoever gets it first."
Sudden realisation washed over Diandra. "A demon."
The woman flashed her black eyes again, grinning. "Bingo." She wandered over to the photos of the girls, summoned one to her hand, observing it. "This is the good bit. That demon," she slowly tore a piece off the photo, "killed your precious mommies," she tore another piece "burned down your nurseries," and another, " sliced himself and bled into your innocent liddle mouths while you, helpless, lay there, eyes all a-glaze, Totally. Oblivious." With one last tear she had the photo of the three smiling girls in pieces. She clutched the pieces in her fist for a moment and let them go, the smouldering ash floating softly to the floor.
"So, w-we have demon blood in us?" Natali stumbled over her words as she tried to make sense of what the woman was saying.
"Too- right, girlfriend. But see, you guys should be happy. You've been chosen."
"For what, exactly?" Diandra responded.
"For the war. If you haven't heard- and I'm surprised about that, seeing as you guys have that whole psychic thing going on, battles are going on, heaven and hell have finally crossed paths, and you and your friends. Well you are smack bang in the middle of storm that you will not get out of." She sighed. "Ahh. Exciting, isn't it?"
The girls just stood, silently, to confused to speak
"Well I'm sorry to disturb your little mind- break but your gonna have to come with me now. Boss's orders." She laughed one last time.
But before the girls could register what she had said, they were engulfed by a thick black smoke. The winds picked up again, blowing more violently then ever before. There was a flash of lightening, then silence. All that could be seen were the overturned candles, the weeds blowing gently in the breeze, and Jim Singer through the window of his house, glancing out the window.
TITLE FLASHES: SUPERNATURAL
A floorboard creaks and dust silently swirls as the boys enter the room. "Dean, promise me next time we won't get a room that smells like a cat has died in it." Dean grimaced, inhaling the musty atmosphere of room 107, Palm Springs inn. "Sure thing, Sammy." Sam wandered over to the stained bed gingerly, chucking his laptop bag and trundle on the wood panelled floor, plonking onto the not-so-bouncy bed, exhausted from the long ride in the Impala. Dean lifted the sheets of his bed. "I'm sleeping in my clothes. Ehhh." Sam laughed. "Tell me why we are in Palm Springs, trailer park central, again?" Dean smiled, and out of his fathers worn leather jacket he was wearing he pulled last weeks newspaper, and threw it at Sam. The headline read; "3 LOCAL GIRLS MISSING, POLICE FLABBERGAHSTED" Sam quickly skimmed through the article for the 20th time, reading the same facts. "three girls by the names of Cara, Diandra and Natali have gone missing…the girls were last to be seen at midnight in the field of Mr Jim Singer's farm, before mysteriously disappearing….the families of the women were noticing strange things about them, claiming that they were doing things that you could say were almost…psychic."
"And, I know, I've read this dean, but please explain, I'm not pyschic, well at least not anymore." Sam knew it bugged his brother whenever he brought up his, as dean put it, "ESP". Dean pulled a sarcastic face, replying as he attempted to turn the tap, which was closed so tight that his hands were going red, " well, , as soon as these girls left, midnight, in fact, there have been cattle deaths, electrical storms, you know the usually heebie jeebies. All in the beautiful town of Palm Springs."
"So, what, do you think they're connected?"
"Indeedo, I mean, coincidences don't just happen like that, now do they Sammy. Christ this tap is welded shut; you'd think I'm freakin' macho man." He gave one last turn of the tap, and finally admitted defeat, licking his lips. He was thirsty.
"I dunno Dean; I mean three psychic girls, all in one town. Three? That's highly unlikely."
Dean raised one eyebrow, curiously. "Since when are you one to turn down a job that involves your own kind?" he laughed.
"Thankyou. That's nice. No look, I just don't think this is a job." Sam got up, stretched and walked to the door. "Hey, I'm gonna get a soda, want one?"
"YES I'm thirsty as hell" dean replied "as dry as a lizards scale flap."
Sam looked at him, puzzled.
"It's a saying...I heard it from the Australian chick...Get it, lizards, cuz there in the desert…its...dry..."
"Don't ever say that again." Sam closed the door.
"Hey, we have to get a good nights rest." Dean yelled at the door. "Big day tomorrow. I mean, c'mon, 3 girls, psychic abilities. We have to save these people!"
* * *
Sam was sitting across from the gangly, yellow-toothed man. Jim Singer's beady eyes bore into him like fire.
"So, Mr Singer, what time was it that you last saw the girls?" Sam politely asked.
"I told you, I've already told the police what I know" he replied scathingly.
"Yes, and I'm sorry sir, but the FBI needs the facts straight from the source." Sam flashed his fake FBI badge and ID he pulled from his suit-jacket pocket that read: Samuel Bridgley, FBI, third division. Sam had laughed when he saw the name. "Bridgley?" he had asked Dean. "Hey, it was all I could come up with. The pimply narcissist clerk was bugging me, and there was a picture of a bridge on the wall. What more can I say?"
Mr Singer glanced at the badge, sighed and sat up straighter.
"It was just about midnight, and I got up, because the wind howling through me window was annoying me. I looked out and saw em', standing around something, in, I dunno, a circle? I went to get my gun, to scare em' off-" Sam grimaced at the thought. Those girls would have been scared as hell. "But when I come back, they are gone. Just like that. I figured' they musta run off, scared or sommin." He smiled smugly at the thought that someone was scared of him.
"And you're sure there wasn't anyone else there?" Sam asked.
Jim looked thoughtful for a minute, and then replied "wait, there was someone, I only saw her for a sec though, this chick in a black dress, standin' like 2 metres away from them."
Sam's eyebrows lifted, and then dropped again, as he realised who this woman was.
"Well, thank you, Mr Singer, I think that's all I need." Sam got up from the spindly- legged table and made to leave. He was at the door, but he just couldn't resist. "Sir, one last thing. Do you have a licence for that weapon? He gestured toward the rifle mounted on top of the fireplace.
Jim sniggered through his heavy Texan accent. "I sure as hell ain't telling the FBI."
When Sam got back to the hotel, he found Dean spread out over his bed, snoring away. Sam kicked his leg, and he woke abruptly.
"Hey." Sam laughed at the disgruntled look on Dean's face and plonked onto his bed.
"I'm doing all the work."
"Hey, I…Researched…stuff." a wide shot of the room shows the laptop closed, a few food rappers and a Busty Asian Beauties magazine.
Sam raised his eyebrows and huffed.
"So what did you find out from the Children-of-the-corn guy?" Dean asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"Well, your right. It was a demon. Woman in a black dress. Midnight." Sam replied.
"Told ya' so." Dean got up and poured himself some black coffee from an old, mustard coloured teapot. He looked at it, sniffed the rim of the cup, and then chucked it into the sink. He didn't trust the teapot.
"So, do you think they are…you know… One of them? Well, of what I used to be? You know, chosen?" Sam worriedly asked, an anxious look masking his face.
"Well, if they are, why? I mean, yellow eyes is dead, and all the people who were chosen, or whatever, were at that town, before…" His voice trailed off. He didn't want to think about Sam's death. It was too…
Sam tried to change the subject he didn't want to think about it either. "Do you think they have anything to do with Lillith?"
Dean had a quizzical look on his face. "For what?"
"Well, for the apocalypse maybe? If you ask me, they would definitely be useful in breaking a seal."
Dean went to his father's journal, took at a large map, and spread it out on the grey, wobbly table of the hotel room. "Well, we gotta' find them first."
Sam huffed. "That's the thing. Where do we start?"
* * *
The old silver car screeched noisily along the dusty road of Warwick Avenue, Palm Springs. The driver yawned, glancing at his clock- radio, which read 11:58. He scratched his head, moving his hands through his short brown hair and then down to the steering wheel. The scene outside was blatant, a few trees here and there. The car was approaching an old orchard, where there was am ancient sign covered in mould and vines that could just be made out to be Warwick Orchard, est. 1791.
The man's eyes were lagging. He feebly attempted to keep them open. But then the sudden bang and screech of the engine awoke him from his sub-consciousness. The car slowly skidded to a stop. "What the hell?" the man hastily undid his belt and pushed open the car door, popping the lid of the car and observing the engine. He touched the carburettor. It was freezing. Unusual for a car that was going 90. When everything seemed fine, he closed the lid, walked to his door, and made to get back into his car.
He gathered the collar of his jacket, and shivered. As he exhaled deeply his breath could be seen condensing in the now frosty night air.
Suddenly there was a noise. A single howl from, it seemed like, a woman, came from the depths of the orchard. The man's head snapped back to where the sound came from.
He was getting worried. He tried to open his car door but it was locked. From the inside.
He screamed for help, but of course there was no one.
A burst of black smoke, an ear splitting howl, and then silence.
The man's body was lifeless on the cold gravel of the road, his crimson blood spilling out from his mouth. The black smoke seemed to consume him, entering his cold, dead body. He awoke. The black of his eyes shone brightly. And then, he was gone.
Inside the car the clock radio flashed: 12:00.
* * *
The library was silent; apart form the whispers of some teenagers and the irritating shushing of the white- haired librarian.
Dean sat in the corner, scratching his head. He was looking un- productively through a large book in a corner of the library, distracted by the painting of a pony reading a book in the children's area, looking worriedly at it.
Sam was in the RECORDS isle, looking at a book. He closed it and walked over to Dean, spying the pony on the wall.
"Now that can't be right." Dean said, still looking at the pony. They simultaneously tilted their heads to the right. Sam shrugged and sat opposite Dean, laying the book he was looking at open so that Dean could see it.
"You see this orchard?" Sam pointed to a picture of Warwick Orchard in the yellowing book. "Mm." replied Dean. The librarian shushed them. Dean pulled a face. "Well, over the past week, 11 people having gone missing near the orchard, all at exactly the same time." Sam said this as he pulled a piece of paper from his jacket that had pictures of people scattered on it. "Most recently was this guy." He pointed to a relatively young man with short brown hair on the paper. "Roy Pullman. Last night. His car was found but there was no sign of him. Heaps of these, all the same case, all in the same place. Warwick Orchard."
Dean smiled, looking at the picture, happy that they were finally getting somewhere. "Well. Let's check it out." As he was putting on his leather jacket, Sam got up. Dean stood there, still looking at the pony. Sam pulled him away roughly.
As they were walking to the car, Dean sighed. "Crap, I forgot something in the library, be right back." He jogged back up the steps leading to the double oak doors.
"Well, that's a first." Sniggered Sam and he got into the Impala, turning the ignition to warm it up.
Dean was in the corner of the now silent library, the librarian and whispering teenagers nowhere to be seen. He moved around the books on a table, trying to find his wallet.
"Looking for something?"
Dean slowly turned to see the man that had pulled him from hell standing next to the NON- FICTION section. Castiel's dark eyes glanced at a wallet that was balanced on the edge of a cart laden with books. "Well thanks." Dean smirked, and retrieved his wallet. "Now, what is it? Another fallen angel, more seals are breaking. Me and Sam already have this one all tied up." Castiel kept his face steady, undisturbed by Dean's brunt sarcasm. "You can't help these girls, Dean. They aren't what you think they are." Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Who says?"
"The entire supernatural world. You have to stop now. We are taking care of it, and you must keep yourself, and especially your brother, out of it."
Dean was angry. He didn't understand why the angels had to bud in all the time.
"Look. We finally have a lead, and we are not just gonna let the angels step in and take over the show. So, thanks, but no thanks." He turned to leave.
"You know what's happening to him don't you."
Dean stopped, his back still faced to Castiel.
"To Sam. He's changing. The risk of getting him near these girls is too great. That is why they must be stopped. By any means necessary."
Dean turned his head to the side. "Let's hope you're wrong."
He continued out the doors, and was gone. His face didn't show it, but Castiel was angry.
Sam was sitting in the car, sub-consciously strumming his fingers on his leg. He saw Dean wondering back to the car, looking disgruntled. "Hey, what took you so long?"
Dean got into the car, revved it, and then accelerated, travelling at the not-so steady pace of 91 km's. "Ran into the librarian. Let me tell you, she is one feisty chick." He attempted to pull a smile.
As the car sped up, Sam anxiously said, "If you haven't noticed, we are in suburbia, you might want to turn it down a notch."
Dean's foot let up on the gas a little. "Sorry, but we need all the time we can get, you know?" Even as his hands were laid on the steering wheel, they were sweaty. Though he didn't like to be ordered around, what Castiel had said was bugging him, eating at his nerves.
"Is everything ok Dean? You sorta' look like you've seen a ghost." Dean smiled slightly at the irony. "I'm fine dude, really. Now, where's this orchard?" he took the map from Sam's lap and studied it.
Sam was worried. He knew dean too well. And he knew there was something wrong. If dean wasn't telling him something, he always reacted this way, hastily putting up barriers to stop Sam from knowing the truth. However, Sam had been keeping secrets from him, too. Like what he and Ruby have been doing. And how good he has gotten at it…
He knew that at a time like this secrets were not the best things to have, but he kept them anyway. Dean would kill him when he found out, but hey, were all going to die anyway.
They reached the orchard. It was smoggy, the mist spreading out over the gravelly road, moving to the trees, obscuring the distantly tangled clumps of apple vines. Dean got out and closed the door, standing in front the large iron archway. Sam got out, resting his hands on the roof of the car for a minute. Dean looked back. "Could this be any creepier?"
Sam huffed. "I don't think so." Dean went back around to the trunk, gathering the things they might need. Sam helped him gingerly. He was still worried about Dean. As he loaded his salt rifle, Dean watched the orchard with anxious eyes.
"Hey, do you reckon we'll see Casper inside?" he said, smiling.
Sam shut the boot. "I hope not."
They entered the orchard, weaving their way through the trees, the more distant clumps of tangled vines hard to decipher in the mist.
* * *
"I swear if I see one more freakin' rat I will bite through that lock."
Cara gestured toward the thick, brown chain and oversized padlock secured to the wooden panels that were hanging over their heads.
Natali was pacing. "Could you do that sooner rather than later?" she had wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she walked from one side of the dark, damp, musty chamber to the next.
Diandra sat, staring blankly at a rusting axe, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.
Sam wandered through the orchard, this way and that. "Hey, found anything?" He screamed at Dean, who screamed back "Nothing."
But then Sam noticed something. The floor in between two especially large apple trees. It was...strangely familiar. The leaves looked out of place, like they had been put their on purpose. Sam pulled a scrunched piece of paper form his shirt that had a picture of the same two trees, and an area with wooden planks underneath it. Sam jogged to the spot, fell to his knees, and moved around the leaves. He uncovered the planks, secured with a heavy metal lock. "Dean!"
* * *
Natali looked at Cara for an answer, leaning her head in Diandra's direction. Cara walked over to where she was. "She's scared. More than both of us. She's been scared ever since these...things have started. I guess she never really knew how to handle it."
Natali walked over to Diandra, sat beside her, and put her arm around her shoulder. "We are going to get out of this. I promise."
Diandra looked slowly up to meet her gaze.
"How can you be so sure?"
Suddenly there was a scraping noise, and the fragile-looking wooden doors above their heads rattled slightly. Diandra and Natali stood up. The sound of muffled voices seemed to come from outside of the wood. Then there was lots of banging, and the doors rattled violently. Suddenly, they burst open, sending hundreds of shards of wood all over their dungeon. The light from the outside seemed to blind their eyes. They looked wearily to the opening...waiting...
Sam Winchester let himself down into the hole. The girls screamed, and Sam jumped, startled. Dean then let himself down too. He looked from Sam's astonished face to the screaming girls. Natali picked up a particularly large piece of wood and hurled it at Dean, who was hit in the head. "Son of a bitch!" he clutched his forehead.
"WHO ARE YOU!" screamed Diandra.
"It's ok! CALM DOWN! We're not going to hurt you!" he reached out his hands, palms open so that they could see he didn't have a weapon.
"How do we know you aren't a demon?" Cara panted, looking intently at both of them.
"This is how." Dean pulled a canister from his jacket. "Holy Water" he shook it at them and then doused him and Sam with it.
The tension surrounding the room disappeared as the girls exhaled in relief. They stood there, looking at the two men in front of them.
"Alright...awkward..." Dean said, rocking on the balls of his feet.
As Sam pulled Cara lastly out of the hole, she brushed her ripped jeans and stood up.
"Thank you so much."
"Hey, it's the least we could do." Said Dean as he walked over to where they stood. "Now, you need to tell us how you got here."
"I believe I can answer that." The woman from the field stood in the distance, the fog covering the lower half of her body. She smiled and blinked once again, flashing her gleaming black eyes at Sam and Dean. They moved around in front of the girls. Dean threw Sam a rifle. He caught it, locked it, and pointed it straight at the demon's forehead. "Who are you?"
"Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I just knew you would come, along with Dean of course." She smiled at Dean and waved, who smiled back sarcastically.
"Ooo, someone's angry. Geez."
"Well, you aren't exactly the people-pleaser" said Dean. The demon frowned.
"Look boys, I'm sorry you had to come all this way to be tragically defeated. But, ah, things must have their natural order. It's time to die boys."
Then a figure emerged from the mist slowly. Dean raised his eyebrows. Then he saw Roy Pullman's eyes. Glinting darkly, they were as black as gunpowder.
More and more people seemed to be rejected by the mist, surrounding them from the front and sides.
The woman laughed, and Sam looked at Dean. Behind him, Cara clutched at Dean's jacket. Diandra and Natali stood frozen; all the while the demons were advancing, slowly. Sam looked at Natali. "In the car there is salt. Run to the entrance and get inside. Go, now!"
Without thinking, she pulled Diandra and Cara, and they ran as fast as they could without looking back, and disappeared in the mist.
Then it started. Sam shot a red-headed demon on his left square in the chest. Dean punched a male in the face, and then hit him with the brunt end of his rifle. He was thrown 50 metres where he hit a tree, and was knocked out. "Dean!" screamed Sam, glancing at him as he
shot yet another demon. Dean slumped against the tree, oblivious to the fight that was going on before him, and his brother, caught in the middle being attacked by blood thirsty demons. His hand had dropped his rifle, where it lay on the ground. Suddenly, a shoe appeared next to it.
Castiel strode easily as if they were the branches of the surrounding apple trees. Sam had his hand reared, about to strike a man when Castiel took hold of it. "I warned your brother. I will take care of this. Leave. Now."
Sam was thrown over to where Dean lay. He looked at his brother and moved over to him, putting his arm over his shoulder and attempting to lift Dean.
"A-a-a. Not so fast."
The woman was standing there, blocking escape. She laughed violently. Sam looked around for his rifle but it had been flung far out of his reach. Desperately, he looked at Dean.
Abruptly her laughing was cut off, as if the mute button was pressed on a remote. The black of her eyes dimmed. Black blood oozed out of her stomach as she looked down to her wound, and then back up to Sam. There was a slicing noise as the knife was extracted from her hollow body. She fell to the ground.
Cara stood behind her, brandishing the bloodied knife clutched in her hands. Diandra ran over to where Sam and Dean lay, helping them up.
Natali emerged from the mist near the entrance. "COME ON!" she screamed. They limped as fast as they could back through the mist. Natali made to turn and leave, but she glimpsed someone in the crowd. Her wide eyes met Castiel, who looked at her for a fraction of a second, and then turned away. She froze, her eyes still focused into the confusion. Cara pulled her as she ran past. "Nat! Move!" she stumbled as they turned and ran to the entrance. Cara looked at Diandra, who nodded. She revved the engine. Dean was sitting in the passenger's seat. His head pressed against the glass of the window. He awoke at the sound of the engine.
"Hey... what...Why are you driving my car??!!!"
The engine hummed as if in approval and the Impala noisily sped down Warwick Avenue.
Leaves danced gracefully in the wind, the steel archway stood peacefully, undisturbed, and Warwick Orchard was left completely in silence.
* * *
Dean stared at the girls, pressing a cold compress to his forehead, his mouth slightly open and a confused look on his face. Sam looked at Dean, laughing to himself. The whole psychic thing the girls had going on, while it was impressing, didn't bother Sam a bit. He was used to people reading minds and predicting the future. After all, he used to be one of them.
He watched as Diandra and Cara played cards. Cara eyed Diandra over the top of her Queen of hearts, as she slowly placed her choice faced down onto the hard wooden surface of the table.
Natali walked over and sat next to Dean on his bed, bouncing playfully. "How...?" Dean asked, not looking away from the girls. Nat laughed. "You'd think it'd be easier, but its much harder. They've gotten better at controlling what they think about. I mean, when I play, it's a totally different story…" Natali trailed off, a smug look on her face.
"How do you mean?" Dean asked, chucking the compress to the sink on the other side of the room. "Miss." Natali said, still looking at Diandra and Cara. Dean's compress hit the cupboard above and fell with a squelch to the floor.
"She thinks she's the best just because she can see what cards we have, before we have them." Diandra said, keeping her eyes on Cara's hand. "It's especially annoying when we play Go Fish. I have lost sooo many sevens because of this chick." "It's a great advantage." Natali grinned, hopping up to pick up the compress and put it in the sink."
"Hey maybe later we can play strip poker and drink Pena Coladas." Said Cara, putting down her cards and looking at Sam and Dean. They just sat there, silent. "I'm joking." She giggled at the confused look on Sam's face.
He grinned. "So, if you don't mind me asking, when did all this… start?" Cara sighed. "I think it must have been like a few months ago. I just started… hearing things, things that I wasn't thinking about. Diandra too, and… well we sort of realised Nat could prophesise when she started predicting the weather. And got it right every time." Dean smiled. "Alright then… what am I thinking about?"
Cara looked at him, staring him in the eyes, her eyebrows pulled together. "You are wondering what the stain is on Sam's bed." Sam looked carefully at the mattress he was lounging on. "Believe me." Nat said to Dean. "You don't want to know."
Sam jumped up, wiping his back and walked over to an old peeling leather armchair in the corner of the room. Dean sniggered.
"You don't-"said Nat, but she was too late. As soon as Sam sat on the chair it collapsed under him. Dean laughed even louder at the disgruntled look on his face as he went to lean against the window.
"I am going to like spending time with you guys." Dean said, shaking his head as he got up, strolling casually toward the door. "Yeah, stop-" Nat exclaimed, attempting to run to him.
Dean slipped noisily on the water left from the compress, landing on his back. "I'm ok!" his hand waved in the air as Sam held his stomach laughing.
"So, if you don't mind us asking, what exactly do you guys… you know, do?' said Cara.
Sam looked at Dean warily. "Uhmm…. We are with the sheriffs department." He hastily said.
"Really? You guys seem a little too young to be policing in Palm Springs."
Dean smirked. "Yeah, well, you could say it was sort of the… family business. We are as blind as you about all this… demon… crap."
"I don't care what you do, I'm just glad you found us when you did." Said Natali, smiling slightly at the end.
Cara was still looking at them, deciphering. She didn't believe they were in the sheriff's department, nor did she believe they had just found them in that orchard. Who wonders around a three-hundred year old orchard at night?
Natali was looking out the window, frowning at the drops of rain streaming down the fogged glass. "That guy… the one in the trench coat… I've seen him before. Not seen him, in person, but had glimpses." She turned around, leaning on the window pane. Dean and Sam again glanced at each other. It wasn't exactly fun when they had to tell people about this world, full of monsters, demons and skeletons in their closets. These girls would have to find out eventually… but hopefully not from them.
"Anyway, it happens to me all the time." She shrugged her shoulders involuntarily. Diandra quickly looked at Cara, concern in her eyes.
Cara smiled. "Hey, I'm going for a walk, anyone want to come with?" she picked up an old jacket from the counter and shrugged it on.
"Uh, no thanks, it's raining." Said Dean, pointing at the water stained window.
She frowned, also looking at the window. "It doesn't bother me. Besides, when you've been locked up in a cellar for a week you start to really appreciate the outdoors. And I think we are out of milk."
When Natali, Diandra and Cara left, shutting the creaky door behind them, Sam exhaled deeply. "So, what's going to happen now Dean? We've saved them, and now they are buying milk for us."
Dean shrugged. "We will have to…" he stared at an indentation in the hardwood, which seemed to stare straight back at him. "We have to figure out why Lillith wants them, why the psychics are so important all of a sudden."
He too got up and picked up his jacket.
Sam raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "They can't stay here Dean, it's not safe, for them or for us, and we can't send them home, there is no point in that. Lillith will just hunt them down again."
Dean looked at Sam as he pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his arm. "Well, if Lillith was going to attack, I'm pretty sure she would have done it already. From now on we'll just lay low. Salt the windows and bring out the iron." He looked at his phone, checking the time. "Alright, I'm going to meet Bobby. He said he has something." He walked to the door, his hand reaching for the rusted knob.
"And what do you propose I say when they come back and find rings of rock salt around the room and a devils trap painted on the ceiling?" Sam huffed.
"Dunno pal, just make it happen." He opened the door quickly trying to leave before Sam could ask any more questions.
"You know we have to tell them. Sooner or later they are going to find out, and they need to know whats happening to them, to the world."
Dean looked back, but then vanished through the door. The sound of rain was heard briefly tapping against the corrugated iron of the shed outside. And Sam walked to the old green duffle and pulled out a box of Windsor's Iodised salt.
* * *
Cara browsed the isles of the town convenience store, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Diandra and Natali trailed behind. The girls hadn't talked the whole way there.
She stopped at the Frozen Foods section. Diandra couldn't stand the silence anymore. "Is anyone else freaked out? Or am I going mad? Seriously!" Cara and Natali turned around, scared at her sudden outburst. "We have just escaped from a dungeon where demons-" she raised her fingers sceptically- "trapped us for a week, and now we are kicking it with two guys who aren't even sheriffs in a mouldy hotel room, buying milk from the convenience store around the corner." She looked at them, wide eyed and breathing heavily, her hands out in front of her in a sort of "what the hell!" way.
"Look, we might as well stay with them until we find out what is
happening. They seem to know more than us, more than they are telling
us anyway." Natali said, as she walked over and picked up a bottle
of milk, the water on it making her hands wet, and cold.
Cara
turned to Diandra. "Besides, what do we have to go home to? An
empty house? My obsessed father always away on hunts? Think about it,
where else should we be?"
Diandra looked from Natali to Cara slowly, taking in what she said.
"I don't think any of us want to be here right now. But we just have to stick it out, ok?" Nat responded to her look.
Cara smiled "C'mon, you have to admit they are kinda… cute!"
The sound of their giggling echoed throughout the small convenience store.
A clerk sitting at her counter played with her hair, blowing fuchsia-coloured bubbles from her mouth. She glanced at the clock, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, Jerry, when does my shift end?" she called out to a tall, gangly boy of about seventeen who was standing on a red ladder and stacking boxes marked Warwick Orchard: "The Best Apples in Town!." His light hearted voice rang in the musty air. "Soon, Karen, soon." He said with a smile.
Karen poked out her tongue, pretending to gag.
Jerry laughed briefly. He lifted the last box and pushed it onto the very top of a shelf.
Something dark moved behind him.
He began to lower himself down slowly, but as he did the sleeve of his STOP n' GO clerk shirt was caught on a step, cutting his arm sharply.
"Ahh….crap." Jerry said as he blew lightly on his wound.
A drop of crimson blood fell to the floor, splashing on the cold puce-coloured tile.
"Hey Kar, where do we keep the first aid kit?" Jerry exclaimed.
But Karen wasn't listening. Her black headphones plugged into her ears blocked her out from all outside noise as she mimed to a song.
Jerry rolled his eyes. Cradling his hurt arm, he wandered over to a door marked in faded letters STAFF ONLY. Pulling some keys from his blue pants, he unlocked the sticky door, walking in.
The blood left on the tile reflected the light, and something else that moved past it quickly.
Something dark.
* * *
Dean's mud stained boot pushed harder against the accelerator, urging the car do go faster and faster.
To tell the truth, he was annoyed. And worried. Isn't dealing with the apocalypse enough? Then Castiel turns up and makes it worse, unnerving him entirely. He knew Sam was changing. But Sam was his brother, and Dean was the only one who could stop him. He was always there for Sam, and nothing would ever change that. Not even the end of the world. It was cheesy, but true.
Dean pulled up to Bobby's house, old and weather worn, surrounded by thick tangling forest. He pulled hastily into the yard, slamming the break and getting out of the car.
"Hey, Fang." He said without stopping to the bulldog chained to the hood of Bobby's blue mustang. He answered with a disgruntled yelp. "You and me both pal."
He banged on the door loudly. "Bobby!" he looked to the handle, turning it slowly, watching the door swing open, a confused look on his face. He entered precariously, looking around the dusty, empty room. "Bobby?" he called again.
Weaving his way around the cluttered furniture and mismatched objects in the hall, he walked into a room laden with books, glass cases filled with vials and bottles and a huge star shaped symbol painted in red on the ceiling. Dean noticed a small wooden chair in the corner, remembering when Sam was tied to that chair. Being exorcised. He grimaced at the thought.
A figure moved behind him as he was observing a particularly large and old book, flipping the pages. He stopped.
A wrinkled, rough hand grasped his shoulder and Dean jumped and turned around quickly.
"Damn it Bobby you almost gave me a heart attack." He said, exhaling and laughing.
Bobby looked grim. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face shadowed under his cap. "I wouldn't be laughing Dean. I don't have good news."
Dean immediately stopped. "What is it Bobby?"
"It's Lillith." Bobby said slowly. Dean gulped. He feared the worst and the worst came true.
"You and Sam need to get those girls to safety, somehow, or she is going to come. She has an army Dean, and she is planning quickly. This isn't just another one of her demon friends, it's her this time, and she is ready."
Dean rose his eyebrows. "How do you know?"
"That doesn't matter. I brought you here because I had to warn you. I knew you wouldn't believe me, but its happening. If she finds you, she won't go down without a fight. That is if she will go down."
He walked over to a bookcase stuffed with papers and other books. He extracted a yellowed map from the highest shelf, throwing it to Dean.
"There is a place marked there that will keep you hidden for long enough, so I can call the other hunters. You have to hurry Dean. And you have to watch out for Sam."
Dean rolled his eyes. One too many people were telling him about Sam. He didn't need it repeated.
"You can't keep lying to yourself. Sam is different. And Ruby is not helping. So while these girls are near, you need to keep and eye on him."
"Thanks Bobby. He held up the paper he had given him and yearned to walk out, free from Bobby's penetrating stare.
"Be careful Dean. Lillith is one demented son of a bitch. She won't stop until she gets what she wants. Or who."
* * *
Jerry rifled through the shelves and draws, searching for the first aid kit. Finally he found it, pulling the clear case with a large printed cross on its front out of the bottom drawer. As he was looking through it for a bandaid, the door locked with a faint clicking noise.
Black smock oozed from the keyhole and out of the bottom, travelling along the ground to Jerry's feet.
He pulled a bandaid from the pack, smiling.
The smoke pounced, entering his body from every opening it could, his mouth, his nose, his fresh wound. His eyes were closed for a brief moment, and then opened, black.
Cara, Diandra and Natali were strolling toward the check out when Natali stopped. She turned her head slowly toward the door that said STAFF ONLY.
"Hey, Nat, are you okay?" Cara said, concerned. They too looked at the door.
"It's them again. Demon." She said blankly.
The milk Cara was holding slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor.
