This is my first SPN fic! It's based off of my school and a legend we have. Except there was never a murder.
It includes Destiel, occasional swearing and some violence. Rated T.
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The moon was oddly bright; maybe it was because it was shining off the first snowfall of the season, or maybe it was just the magic of the quiet December night. The light shone through the radiant stained glass portrayal of Mary holding Jesus, looking down at her baby son with a sedate smile on her face. She watched over the old chapel; rarely used for its actual purpose (usually it was a place for girls in the connected school to take naps.) It was a warm and tranquil place, the comforting feel of the wooden pews and soft carpet rarely disturbed. The watchful eyes of Mary saw everything.
A shrill scream echoed through the halls of the school; then pounding footsteps sounded on the creaky wooden floor outside, heading towards the chapel. The door flew open after a rattle at the doorknob and a girl with short red hair burst in, slamming the door shut behind her. Glancing around with wild eyes, she grabbed a small table and shoved it in front of the doors. Realizing that wasn't enough, she gave a small wail of frustration, clutching the small gold cross at her throat.
Then her eyes fell on the confessionals. The girl dashed forward, quickly ducking inside. She pressed herself to the walls of the little room, listening. Every sound was a gunshot in her terror; the whistling wind, the click of the heat registers, even her own breathing. She began to pray, whispering the desperate words through trembling lips. "Hail Mary, full of grace-" she heard a creak and froze for a second, then continued mouthing the words of the prayer. "the Lord is with thee. Blessed art though among women-"
The confessional door slammed open, and the girl shrieked, staring at the figure in front of her. It had found her...
"Confess!" the thing hissed. Dark fog spilled off of its body and onto the girl, paralyzing her. A freezing cold chill trickled down her back, paralyzing her.
"I didn't do anything!" the girl wailed. Her eyes fell on the window with the image of Mary, and her clasped hands rose in supplication. "-and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary-" the dark figure raised a hand to strike the girl- "Mother of God, pray for us sinners-" the girl's eyes closed and her voice rose in volume- "now and at the hour of our death-" and the figure sunk its hand into her chest.
The girl screamed, bowing her head and collapsing to the floor. The dark figure stood over her for a moment. "Amen," it whispered, then disappeared, leaving no witnesses except for the smiling eyes of the Blessed Mother Mary.
I promise, Winchesters and Castiel at the next chapter! I'm trying to write it like an episode, so the murder first.
