Supernatural-Lullaby
Warning: This is my first fanfic. Please review, but be gentle… J
Brownwood, Texas
The campfire cast unearthly shadows around the circle. Four people, one boy and three girls, sat around it. The oldest, a dark-haired boy named Todd, had his arm draped around, Adrianne, the oldest of the girls. They sat close together to keep the icy breeze at bay. The other two sat close by, terrified looks on their faces.
"It's just a story," Adrianne reassured them.
"Oh no it's not," Todd interjected. "Everything I just told you is pure truth. My grandfather works at the cemetery. He swears it's all true."
"Your grandfather is nuts," chimed in Joanna, Adrianne's younger sister.
"I swear." Todd smiled mischievously, his eyes wide with mock innocence.
"Don't swear," the third girl got up from the circle and paced restlessly. She was the youngest of the three girls, but acted more mature than all of them put together.
"What's your problem, Becca?" Todd asked, obviously annoyed at her reaction.
"I just don't feel right," Becca Monroe answered.
"You just freaked her out," Joanna said, coming to her best friend's defense.
"You guys know that we're not far from the house right?" Todd said, his voice full of excitement.
"We are not going to the old Jensen place!" Becca demanded, starring Todd down.
"Oh God, Becca tell me you're not scared of some stupid urban legand," Adrianne shrugged her boyfriend's arm off of her and stood up.
"I…." she trailed off, "I just don't feel right about all of this."
"Come on Becca, live a little," Joanna urged.
"Let's go. We'll show you how stupid all of this really is," Adrianne led the way as Joanna followed.
"You guys sure? It could get a little spooky," Todd joked.
"Well, that's what I have my big strong man here for isn't it?" Adrianna said, putting her arm around his waist and matching his stride.
Becca looked back at the deserted campfire. As she turned to follow her friends, an icy wind stirred the campsite and blew the fire so that the flames danced for only a moment and then were extinguished, a thin pillar of smoke curled up ominously into the night's sky.
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Dean Winchester circled an article in a local newspaper as he sipped his coffee in a diner on the outskirts of a small Texas town. His brother Sam was hard at work tinkering with his laptop.
"What'd ya got?" Dean asked.
"Nothing," Sam answered, "At least nothing supernatural. What about you?"
"I found something kind of interesting. Listen to this: 'Two girls, Adrianne and Joanna Walters, were murdered in Brownwood, Texas while on a camping trip with several friends. The cause of death is unknown, but every bone in both girls' body was broken.' What do you think?"
Sam brushed his hair out of his eyes and closed his laptop. "I don't know," he said "It sounds a little weird, but a sudden collision could have caused that, or a fall, it could have been a lot of things."
"Or it could have been right up our alley," Dean said, finishing off his coffee.
"Does it say if there were any witnesses? Anyone we could talk to?" Sam inquired.
Dean read over the article again. "It doesn't have any names listed. What do you say we check it out? It's not that far from here."
"This is Texas," Sam argued, "Everywhere is far."
Dean folded the paper and stuffed into his bag. The two brothers then grabbed what little luggage they had, loaded up their 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and headed for Brownwood.
Several hours later, they pulled up to an old abandoned house surrounded by caution tape and police officers. Dean grabbed a fake FBI badge from the glove box and smiled at his brother. The two of them got out of the car and sauntered up to the nearest officer.
"So this is where the murder took place?" Sam asked.
The officer nodded, looking pale and a little queasy. They could tell that he hadn't seen many homicides. Dean tucked away the badge, hoping the rooky wouldn't be smart enough to ask for ID.
"I thought the victims were camping," Dean said, looking around the yard. There were no traces of a campfire or residue that would be left behind by a bunch of high school kids.
"The campsite is down by the river there," the officer answered, pointing east of the house. "They were probably looking for a good scare."
"A scare?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," the rooky said, looking surprised that they didn't know what he was talking about. "You know, local legend. The Jensen murder?"
"Oh right, right." Dean said. "How does that one go again?"
"You got to be kidding me," the officer looked at them both closer. He opened his mouth to elaborate, but a man called him over instead. "Excuse me, I'll be right back," he said, rushing to the side of the officer who had called him.
As the boys watched the incompetent cop scamper away, they were approached by a heavy-set man who appeared to be in his late forties. He held a hat in his hand, reveling a bald spot on the top of his head. As he walked over, his sheriff's badge came into focus.
"Can I help you boys?" he asked.
"Yes Sir," Sam answered, "We were just wondering if there were any witnesses?"
"Who did you say you were with?" the sheriff asked suspiciously.
Dean pulled out the badge and flashed it quickly, "Daniel Beaker, FBI. This is my partner…Lesley." he nodded toward Sam, who glared at him.
The old man didn't look convinced, but he answered anyway. "Yeah. Two kids were out here with them." he took out a small note pad and flipped through it until he found what he was looking for. "Becca Monroe and Todd Forester. We questioned them, but they were pretty shook up."
Sam committed the names to memory and nodded towards the man. "Thanks for your time, Sheriff."
The two brothers took their cue to leave. The sheriff stared after them as they got into their car, not quite sure what to make of the strange duo.
"Lesley!" Sam demanded.
"I panicked," Dean replied, stifling a laugh.
"But Lesley! Is that even a guy's name?"
"I'm not sure, Sweetheart. Why don't you get in the car and we can talk about this later?" Dean opened the car door for Sam and then got in on the driver's side, earning him a death glare from his brother.
