I do not own the Winchesters, how I wish I had the tall one tho! I do own Miranda and Abby...just not the people they are based on!

Hope you enjoy!!

Deadfall:

Definition:
a trap, esp. for large game, in which a weight falls on and crushes the prey.
A trap for large animals in which a heavy weight is arranged to fall on and kill or disable the prey.

************************************************************

"I'm telling you Miranda it's haunted. I'm in the 'Paranormal and Occult Seminar' course, and she is the professor. She has documented proof that there is some sort of supernatural happenings there" Abby said, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear, letting the gold hoop in her upper ear poke through.

"Abby, please. I think that Professor Baxter is a bit anomalous. There is no such thing as ghosts, haunted houses or any of that stuff, she is just after your gift and to gain notoriety " Miranda tagged back, her green eyes pleading with her dear friend to wake up at what was in front of her.

'Gift' Abby thought to herself. What kind of gift is it really? She can see the dead, some call people like her 'sensitives', 'mediums' even. Abby just thought of herself as cursed. She inherited it all from her Grandmother, it skipped her Mother in succession, and when Abby saw her first ghost at the age of 11 she too wished it had skipped her.

"I appreciate the concern Miranda, but this is something I want to try. You have been the only one that has believed in my ability and now so does Professor Baxter. This weekend trip could do me some good. You know meet others like me, see if she is right about the haunting there. You still game with coming with me?" she asked, batting her deep blue eyes at her friend, and pouting her lips.

"Abs, not the puppy look. You've been doin' that to me since we were 13, and you know……"

Abby beat her lashes harder, and sniffed a bit, adding to the drama effect she knew Miranda couldn't refuse.

"Fine, fine! I will go with you. But I am telling you right now, if that woman gives me any of that spooky "They're heeeeeeere" crap, I am so outta there!"

Abby couldn't help but laugh at Miranda. Jumping up she wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and squeezed her tight. Pulling away she smoothed down her silky blonde hair and framed it back past her shoulders like she had it before the crushing hug. "Thanks Miranda. I owe you" she smiled, scooting back to her wicker chair and grabbing her plastic bottle of lemonade.

"Shall we finish our shopping now ma'am?" she asked, pushing her chair out and reaching for her messenger bag.

"I suppose, I mean how often do we get to have a whole day that neither of us are at class, working, or doing lesson plans?" Miranda asked, tossing her empty water bottle in the garbage behind her and standing up.

"This is true. What were we thinking taking graduate courses and taking on new teaching jobs the semester after we graduated?" Abby asked, intertwining her arm in Miranda's as they headed out of the food court and down the crowded corridor of Lincoln Towne Mall.

"Gluttons for punishment?"

"Something like that" Abby answered, as she took her gaze away from the burned janitor who stood at the doorway to the boiler room, his apparition disappearing in a cloud of smoke as he walked through the closed doorway.

*****

"Can you get it any louder?" Sam shouted, watching as Dean rocked his shoulders and head back and forth to a Boston classic he had in the tape deck.

"You want it louder? Sure can Sammy!" he grinned as he rounded his fingers around the turn dial and turned it to the right, making the dashboard jimmy a bit in vibration.

"Classic man….pure adulterated classic" he bellowed, moving his eyes back to the road in front of him, the black tires of the Impala moving feverently on the black asphalt of the highway.

"Super" Sam mumbled, popping the pen cap in his mouth.

"What's that?"

"I said super"

Dean gave a big cheeky grin and nodded his head. "Definitely one of their bests dude, good call!"

Sam could only shake his head at his brother as he looked over the file in front of him. There were clippings upon clippings about the house. There were reports of everyday people going inside, kids and adults going in to check things out or on dares, never to be seen again. The police found little to no clues. All the disappearances happened at night, and by the next day there wasn't even a hint that the missing people were even there.

"We're gonna have our hands full" Sam exclaimed, looking at Dean as he tossed his hand up in the air, and pointed to his ear.

Huffing, Sam leaned over and turned down the music and looked sternly at his brother. "I said we are going to have our hands full. There are reports of 30 people going missing in that house, and the history before that isn't pretty either."

"What's the history again? Family style murder?"

"Yeah, according to the property docket, a family by the name of Parrish lived there back in the early 1920's. It is said that they all came down with Rubella, and the father spiked a high fever and went delirious, killing his two daughters and son, then his wife before killing himself. Legend has it that they all still are confined to the house, trapped there because of what he did. And now, whenever someone else goes in, they too are confined there for eternity."

"Way to damper the mood Sammy. So what is it that you think we can do?"

"Start out with some EMF stuff during the day, see what we can find there and then stake it out at night.

"Why don't we salt and burn their bones and call it a night?"

"We can't. Because of the rubella, they were routinely all cremated, and their ashes were put in the family vault. There isn't anything left to burn. So something else is keeping them there."

"We should be there in two days give or take. Oregon, talk about going cross country."

"Yeah I guess" Sam answered, feeling a twinge in his right temple, and an indescribable flash flicker in front of his eyes.