AN: This is my first Supernatural Fan Fiction... I love the show, but I started getting into it around the 10th season, because Rowena... So she's going to make an appearance.

SamxRowena, DeanxOC, CastielxOC

There will be Destiel, but platonic Destiel, as that's the only way I ship them, but I do respect those who ship them romantically, as they are entitled to their own opinions and views.

I have respect for other peoples ships, so please respect mine.

"Sammy! You okay?" Dean's head jerked upwards, towards the door, as soon as he heard the explosion coming from the direction Sam headed. "Sam?" Still no answer. Dean, worrying the worst, picked up his bag and started running down the corridor, past all the startled people dressed up in costumes.

"October 31st, 1817, 198 people died in Redwood Asylum. Patients and staff. Cause of death; mass suicide, hanging. Time of death was assumed to be midnight. The asylum then closed, and reopened in 1847. Then on October 31st, 1867, 176 people, staff and patients died. Cause of death; mass suicide, vertical slits on both wrists. The reports say that the wounds were either caused by knife, or broken glass. Which is weird, because it was also reported that all of the wounds were identical, clean, straight slits. Time of death; midnight. 1911, Redwood Asylum reopens once more. October 31st, 1917."

"Mass suicide?"

"Well, the C.O.D. was poisoning, but they believed that it was mass suicide. All those poisoned, died at midnight."

"I'm just going to guess. The next mass suicide was October 31st, 1967?"

"How did you know? Yes. However, Redwood didn't reopen as an asylum. It reopened as a museum. All 132 visitors and staff died. Gun in mouth. The strange thing though, is that only 7 guns were found."

"So?"

"You noticed the date pattern, but not the time. Really? They all died midn-."

"Midnight. Right."

"Redwood Asylum?" Dean looked up at Sam.

"Yeah. It's the perfect next job. Mysterious mass suicides every 50 years at the exact same time. I mean, come on." As Sam spoke, his face lit up like a small child opening present on Christmas day.

Dean sighed, "You're way to happy about this." He took a bite out of his grilled cheese sandwich, "How do you know about this anyway. I would think that after So many mass suicides, they'd close the place down for good?"

"Is reopening today, a sort of Halloween haunted house. A low-key-juvenile-party kinda deal."

Halloween? Oh, yeah. That's tomorrow. Dean thought. "Don't you think they'd be worried, you know, about the whole suicide thing?"

"They believe that it's just some ghost story, invented by parents to keep their children from entering the asylum." Sam said, looking down at his laptop.

"And how do we know it's not just that?" Dean replied, with a skeptical look on his face.

"Because..." Sam stooped to think for a minute. He didn't actually know himself if it was real or not. He couldn't find any official records. Only stories online. He couldn't say that no one's that inventive when it comes to ghost stories, because that can easily be contradicted. "I just have this feeling." He looked a lt Dean, his eyes, pleading to go on this trip.

Dean met his eyes, and realising his little brothers want to check it out, he remembered the whole fan fiction play thing that happened, and how sceptical Sam was before they left. "Okay. Fine." He said, breaking eye contact, looking back down at his sandwich, "But only after I finish this, okay?"

Sam turned around to walk to the kitchen, and when out of Dean field of view, he did a little fist pump. "I saw that!" Dean shouted from the main room.

"Salem."

"Home of the witch trials."

"You don't have to sound so happy about it."

"What are you talking about? I'm not happy about it. Well, I'm kinda happy about it. I mean, I do get to learn more about my heritage."

"You know, I hate that you want to learn about this part of you."

"Would you rather me learn about the other part of me? So anyway, the map. It says you have to turn left here. Then right when you can."

"There's grass all around us. I can turn right anytime I want. There's really nothing stopping me."

"You know what I mean. When there's a road."

"I know. I know. What do you think we'll find here?"

"Mass suicide the same time every 50 years? Maybe a spell placed by one of the witches from the trials? Evil ghosts from before the asylum was built? Indian burial grounds? Could be a number of things."

"Indian burial grounds? Seems a little extreme, don't you think? And isn't it possible you'd know before we left, that it's an IBG?"

"It could be an undocumented one."

"Yeah, like they're ever documented."

"Salem, Oregon. Really?" Dean said.

"Not exactly. It's actually quite a few miles from Salem." Sam looked down at his map, "Turn left here."

Dean took the sharp left that lead to a dirt road. "Why do you need a map?" He looked at Sam, who gestured to go right, "Why can't you just use that GPS crap everyone else uses?"

"That's why." Sam replied, as Dean turned right, revealing a large, dense forest.

"What the hell?" Dean stopped the car, "Was that there before? I don't remember seeing that thing driving up here!" Dean, confused, started to look around, and sure enough, it stretched along the same road they came up on.

"Well, it was." Sam looked back down at the map. "The Asylum doesn't appear on any modern maps, such as GPS."

"Then how do the haunted house people know about it?"

"I don't know."

Thank you for reading my first chapter. As so far there are no ships, BUT THERE WILL BE!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try get the second chapter up next week. I'm going to try make this a weekly thing... It's probably going to fail miserably...