Hey guys! This is the new and improved 'Faith'. This time I actually have a really story plot planned out for this and the main character has more of an actual personality and a real background with a few secrets here and there. I hope you guys like it. Please let me know of any grammar errors, things I could do better, things you liked, reviews literally make my day!
Chapter One: New Beginnings
"So," Ella said, opening up her laptop and plopping down onto the old motel bed, "looks like a Jack Ripper wanna-be used to live in the house. He kidnapped all of his victims and ripped out their hearts."
"How many victims?" Mallory said, packing her bag.
"Twenty or so but most of them were cremated because the remains were...well let's just say they looked better after they were put in the kiln."
"What about the killer?"
"Cremated after he was killed on death row."
"So it has to be one of the victim's' spirit out for revenge or something. That means we just need to find out which victims weren't cremated."
"Exactly. We'll need to check out the house to get an estimate on how many ghosts we're dealing with."
"Should I bring EMF or can you handle it?"
"I got it," Ella said, standing up and stretching her arms out in front of her, "we just need to pack the iron crowbar this time. Remember the last time-"
"Eleanor McDougall, we swore on our lives that we would never speak of that case ever again!"
The blonde haired woman raised her hands up in defense, trying to stifle her laughter, "Sorry, Mal. You have to admit it was kind of funny though."
"Shut up!"
The house was, of course, absolutely rundown and abandoned. Bright yellow police tape still surrounded the front yard, tangling itself around the rickety, old fence. The two women ducked under the tape, ignoring the signs the police had left warning trespassers of prosecution. They had been to the crime scene the day before, posing as FBI agents to interrogate the witnesses and examine the body. If by some chance, an officer did show up, they would just flash their badges and come up with an excuse.
"I just can't believe he used to rip his victims' hearts right out of their chests while they were still alive," Mallory said as the two of them climbed the creaky staircase up to the front porch.
"What I want to know," Ella said, as she started picking the lock the police had left on the old door, "is why anyone goes into old houses to look for ghosts. Why can't they just leave it to the professionals?"
"Why don't you ask the Ghostbusters?"
The two women laughed as they made their way into the house, shutting the door behind them. The dusty, old floorboards squeaked under their feet as they walked around, pointing their flashlights at anything that looked interesting.
"Alright El," Mallory said, dropping her bag on the ground, forcing up a cloud of dust, "put that psychic magic of yours to work."
"You know, one of these days your life will depend on your knowing the difference between magic and psychic abilities. You'll be dead."
"I will not! You've got my back after all. Besides, you're the monster magnet, not me."
"Whatever," Ella rolled her eyes. She quieted then, easing her breathing until her chest was barely rising with each inhale. She closed her eyes and reached her hands out in front of her, as if she was going to catch something. The room went still, Mallory suddenly felt the need to move, to run, to get away. She shivered, goosebumps erupting over the surface of her skin, but she stood still. "There are two," Ella paused, and, for a second, Mallory thought she had only imagined her friend speaking, "no...there's only one. In the basement. It's not moving."
"You sure? I'd rather not be taken by surprise today."
"Almost one hundred percent," Ella nodded, blinking as if she had just woke up.
Mallory pulled out her shotgun and checked to make sure it was fully loaded with salt rounds before she slung her bag over her shoulder, "Have I ever told you how convenient that mind magic of yours is?"
"I don't know. Have I ever told you that it's not magic?"
"Come out little ghostie!" Mallory whisper-yelled as the two made their way down the stairs to the basement.
"Don't think that's gonna work, Mal," Ella said, clutching her gun a little tighter in her hands.
The basement was dark. All the lights on the ceiling were burnt out and broken but the two women could faintly make out what looked like footprints in the dust on the floor.
"Wanna light this place up. El?" the dark haired woman said.
"Honestly," Ella rolled her eyes, "it's like I do everything." She held a hand out, palm facing the ceiling, and murmured a spell quietly. A ball of light shot out from her palm and flew up to hover above their heads. With the new light, the two hunters surveyed the room. It was mostly empty. Broken glass was scattered across the floor along with cockroaches and a dead rodent here or there. There were several blood stains on the walls and in the very center of the room was a metal operation table with four leather handcuffs attached. Underneath the table, was a large blood stain.
"That's not creepy," Mallory said, pressing a hand against her stomach.
"This doesn't look like a great final resting place. This must've been where he killed all his victims."
"Correct," came a chilling voice from behind them.
The two women turned to see the ghostly figure of a man in a blood-stained lab coat. He was a thin man with wrinkled skin and eyes sunken deep into his face. His fingers were thin and pointy and his nails were chipped and covered in blood.
"This is where I took my pretty little patients and carved out their hearts," the man said, voice thick with blood lust. His whole form seemed to twitch and he disappeared.
"Wait, that was the killer," Mallory said, "I thought the ghost was one of the victims. He was cremated."
Ella sighed, "Well it looks like he left something behind."
"So," the ghost reappeared before them, smiling a mouthful of rotten teeth, "which of your hearts should I tear out first?"
"Neither!" Mallory pumped her gun and shot the ghost; the minute the salt rounds hit him, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"Okay, we gotta find something - anything," Ella said. The two women had locked themselves up in the main bedroom. While Mallory researched the ghost on Ella's laptop, the latter poured salt in front of all the doors and windows.
"His name was Ivan Cruickshank," Mallory explained, "he was a really well-liked doctor before his wife and son were murdered in a robbing gone wrong. After that, he went crazy and started killing people."
"Backstory won't help us, Mal. Keep looking."
"Okay, um...here," she turned the screen to Ella, "in every picture of him I can find, he's wearing this old watch but the ghost wasn't wearing a watch when we saw him."
"Worth a shot."
They started searching the room, checking under the bed, digging through dresser drawers filled with old, torn up clothes.
"I'm gonna check the other rooms," Ella said, loading her gun.
"I'll come too," Mallory stood up from where she'd sat down on the old bed.
"No, stay here and do some more research, see if you can find anything else he might've had."
"Alright, just be careful."
"I will. Call me if you find anything."
The house was silent as Ella made her way through the messy hallway. The floor was littered with crumpled up pieces of paper and broken picture frames. She held her shotgun at the ready, eyes darting every which way.
"There you are," Cruikshank's voice cried from behind her.
Ella turned just in time for the ghost to hit her square in the stomach with an old, wooden chair that broke on impact.
"Shit," she groaned as she hit the ground, wrapping an around her waist and using the other to hold up her gun.
"I wonder what your heart will look like, what it will taste like," the ghost faded away, but the hunter knew he was still there, watching her, coming closer.
Ella waited patient, listening. There was a sound to her right, a shifting of the floorboards. She turned and pulled the trigger. Cruickshank screamed and disappeared.
"Is there a study or some kind of office?" the hunter said to herself, as she kept moving. At the end of the hall was a single door. She tried turning the handle but it was locked. With a sigh and a complaint under her breath, she knelt down and went about picking the lock. Suddenly, however, Cruickshank grabbed her by the hair and yanked her backwards. Ella fell to her back with a thud, shotgun falling from her shocked hands. The ghost knelt down over her, hand poised and ready to rip out her heart.
"Stay away from her, you son of a bitch!" Mallory swung her iron crowbar through the ghost and he howled in pain before before disappearing.
"You okay?" the dark haired hunter said as she helped her friend to her feet.
"Oh yeah. Almost had my heart ripped out. No big deal," Ella said, sarcasm practically dripping from her voice, "thanks for the save."
"No problem. Now hurry up and pick the lock."
While Ella worked on the door, Mallory stood watching the hall. When she saw a few of the papers on the floor move from a sudden gust of wind, she instinctively pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
"Mal, dear lord, only shoot when you see him," Ella exclaimed.
"Sorry, instinct."
Not a second later, the ghost reappeared. Mallory cocked her gun and shot at him but he flew out of the way. "Hurry up El, he's getting' good at playing tag."
"I'm trying. I'm trying."
"I want your hearts!" Cruikshank screamed, avoiding another shot from the dark haired hunter.
"Ugh," Mallory groaned in agitation and pulled the trigger once again but her gun was out of rounds. "Aw shit, El, I'm out!" she said, throwing the gun aside and reaching for her crowbar. It was too late.
There was a scream. Ella turned to see the ghost with his hand buried in Mallory's chest, his fist no doubt clenched around her heart.
"Mallory!" Ella yelled. Without even thinking, she thrust her hand out in front of her and the ghost flew away in a ball of fire, screaming in agony. Ella caught Mallory in her arms, turning to the door and kicking it twice before the lock broke open. She set the other hunter gently down on the ground and closed the door before feeling Mallory for a pulse.
"Mal, Mallory," she shook her friend's shoulder, "can you hear me?"
"Yeah," the other groaned, "I can hear you. That was easily the weirdest thing I've ever felt - ever. Don't try it."
Ella laughed, more from relief, "I'll remember that next time I think about letting a ghost stick its hand into my chest."
"Dammit," Mallory kicked the leg of the old desk, "it's not here."
Ella dropped a few of the heavy, old books onto the floor, "Maybe it's not the watch."
"Ella, it could be anything!"
"Then what are we going to do?"
"We could burn the whole place down."
"As much as I like that idea, I'm not sure how the police would feel."
"Oh come on. Get a gasoline trail going, light it up outside, hightail it out of here before the cops show up."
"Just keep looking."
Mallory huffed out a sigh and a complaint involving the word bossy, then decided to shuffle through the desolate, old drawers one more time. "So," she said, "back when the ghost was getting all handsy with me, was it just the fact that I had some old guy's hand literally grabbing my heart or did you perform magic without a spell?"
"I don't know," Ella shrugged, "maybe. I was just scared that he was going to kill you and...I guess it just happened without the spell."
Mallory nodded, "Fair enough."
Just then, the door burst open and the salt line they'd poured blew away. Cruickshank swooped into the room. He pushed Mallory out into the hall and the door shut in her face, refusing to open even though the lock was broken. The ghost turned his pale face to Ella. Her hands fumbled as she moved to grab her shotgun but she was too slow. He yanked her forward by the neck, lifting her a few inches above the ground. She coughed, clawing at the hand constricting her airway.
"They all tried to fight," he said, a sick smile on his face, "but they never won. No one ever did. I got all of them. I got all of their hearts. I'm going to get yours too."
The edges of her vision began to blur as she choked for air. Out of the corner of her eye, Ella saw Mallory's crowbar placed on top of the desk. She reached out, stretching her arm as far as it would go. Her fingers stung as they grazed the metal. Finally she was able to clasp her whole hand around it, her palm burning, as she moved and swung it through Cruickshank. Ella dropped to the floor, gasping for breath. She held onto the crowbar despite the blood that had started dripping from her palm. Taking one deep breath after the other, she looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the spots out of her eyes. Just as she felt herself start to drift off, she turned her head to the side and she saw it. The watch. It was laying haphazardly under the desk, glass surface shattered, leather band worn.
"Ella!" Mallory cried from the other side of the door, kicking the wood but it didn't budge.
Ella grabbed the watch and pulled a lighter out of her pocket. Holding her shaky hands as still as possible, she attempted to click it on.
"I will have your heart!" Cruickshank cried, appearing before her. Right as he moved to grab her, to rip her heart out, Ella clicked the lighter and the flame burst to life. She held the watch above it as the leather started to darken and burn.
"No! No!" Cruickshank screamed, whole ghostly body igniting in a bright, blue flame. As soon as his screams had started, they stopped and he was gone. For good. The door burst open and Mallory rushed in, kneeling down beside her friend.
"Ella, are you alright?"
"Yeah, Yeah, I just," Ella moved to push herself up but the pressure applied to the burn on her right palm sent her falling back to the ground.
"Ella, your hand!" Mallory gasped, holding the wounded limb in her lap, "What happened?"
"Lost my gun. Crowbar was all I had. Iron and witches don't go well together, remember?" she said, pushing herself up again with her good hand.
Mallory laughed, relieved they were both okay, "Yeah, how could I forget. Can you stand up?"
"Yeah," the blonde haired woman stood, admittedly a little wobbly, and the two of them grabbed their gear and made their way downstairs to the front door. "I'm glad that's over," Ella said as they walked out.
"Me too. That guy was fucking crazy, seriously. Why can't ghosts ever be nice? Like why do they always have to be insane, bloodthirsty killers?"
"I'll remind you about that if you ever become a ghost."
"Oh very funny."
Back in the safety of their motel room, the two women had dropped all their things by the door and practically collapsed onto the beds in the room. After a few minutes of resting, Ella got up and went to wash her hand in the bathroom. The whole surface of her right palm was burned. She put some ointment on it, wrapped it in an ace bandage and called it a night. While Mallory had already fallen asleep fully clothed, Ella quickly changed into her pajamas. Just as she was crawling into bed, her phone rang. She checked the caller ID: Dean Winchester.
"Hey Dean," she said, voice quiet as not to wake her friend sleeping a few feet away from her.
"Hey sunshine," his voice came clear through the line. It had been a while since she'd heard it, but even now she could tell he was...upset, if that was the right word.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah...well, no," he paused, "Bobby's in the hospital. He got possessed by a demon and he's hurt pretty bad." he fell silent, almost like he couldn't stand to say anything else.
"Oh no, okay I'll be down there tomorrow. Are you and Sam alright?"
"Yeah, we're a little bruised but nothing too bad. Just get here as soon as you can and bring your magic crap," Dean said, his voice sounded like he'd tried to take on a joking tone but he couldn't seem to manage it.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night sunshine."
"Night."