Title: Phantom Lake
Author: captainbartholomew
Disclaimer: I own a few DVDs, a few books, a Supernatural poster, and a Jensen Ackles poster, but do I own them… uh who do you people think I am, Eric Kripke?
Challenge Word: Camp
Word Count: 300… on my old summer camp I used to attend
Spoilers: none… I'd see this one set back in the earlier days when all the boys had to deal with was the occasional reckless spirit and the Yellow Eyed Demon.
*a/n: This is an actual urban legend in my hometown. The name of the story is actually the name of the lake that the ghost is said to reside in.
It couldn't have been a simple salt and burn like the Winchesters had so direly craved it to be. Nope, that would have been too easy and nothing is ever easy for them… ever.
The calm placidness of the lake gave the day camp that had surrounded it an eerie vibe. It was nearing midnight and the brothers new the Indian Princess would surface as soon as the harvest moon was high in the sky and clock stroke twelve.
After coming to the small Midwestern town and hearing recounts of a Native American princess whose spirit that surfaced every time the harvest moon rose into the sky and drowned any men nearby, the boys knew it was a job for them.
This plan had bad idea written all over it, especially the using your younger brother as the bait part.
"You will make an excellent husband," chided the ghost princess as Sam squirmed in her grasp. The younger Winchester knew he shouldn't have listened to Dean tell him to be bait. It seemed the spirit was searching for her long ago absent warrior husband, who had never returned from battle.
"Uh yeah…" Sam muttered waiting for Dean to finally load the gun with rock salt, "Dean… little help here!"
With Sam still being cuddled by the spirit Dean let the rock salt pierce through her banishing her for a given amount of time before coming after the boys, hopefully they'd salt and burn what they needed to before she came back.
"Dream catcher in the cafeteria, you got the salt and lighter fluid?" questioned Sam.
"Right here," commented Dean waving it in front of him, "What Sammy you don't want to wait for your bride to be? She was such a lovely individual."
"Shut up and let's go you jerk."