Old Forge, New York
"I don't want to do this, Krista," Sandra whispered, shining her flashlight back toward Beth and the other two girls and then into the thicket of trees in front of her. "I have a really bad feeling something is gonna happen."
"Nothin's gonna happen, Sandra," Krista reassured. However, the slight tremor in Krista's voice spoke volumes, and did little in the way of comforting Sandra. "We've done this tons of times. Nothing ever happens . . . it's just for kicks." Krista readjusted her grip on the large black mirror she carried under her arm. "Besides, there's not much else to do since the tourist season is over."
"Well, why did we have to come all the way out here to the woods to try and conjure . . . what was its name again?"
"Beliar."
"Beliar," Sandra repeated, the name leaving a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly a searing pain ripped through Sandra's forehead as horrifying images flashed through her mind. Krista and the others in terrible agony, visions of maimed and gruesome death. She shuddered, her eyes blurring against the onslaught. Doubling over, Sandra kneaded her temples to ease the ac
"Are you okay, Sandra?" Krista shined her flashlight on Sandra. "Your nose is bleeding. Maybe I should take you back home."
"No. I'm fine," Sandra said, ignoring the look of concern on her friend's face, she swiped away the blood with the back of her hand. "I just don't understand why we had to come here to summon him?"
"Because," came a voice from behind. "We are closer to all the elements this way." Sandra turned her head and saw Beth marching toward her carrying candles and an ominous looking curved blade. Jenna and Amber followed further behind.
"Natural magic." Beth said. She paused when she reached Sandra, cocked a brow, her dark jade green eyes sparkling with amusement, and added, "Besides, it's more fun this way. More spooky."
"But this is just stupid. There are bears out here and God knows what else," Sandra said, peering into the darkness she heard shuffling in the thick brush. She quickly aimed her flashlight toward the noise and a raccoon scrounging for food scurried away.
"I told Krista not to bring you along. Told her that you were way too chicken."
"I'm not afraid. I just don't want to be bear chow," Sandra replied evenly, although she was afraid and it had nothing to do with bears. The horrific image of her friends dying had seemed so real. Their fear so profound she could taste its bitterness. But as much as Sandra wanted to run home and hide from her fears, she realized she wanted to fit in with Krista's friends, especially Beth, even more.
"Good, that's settled. Now lead the way, Sandy," Beth challenged. Her cool gaze lingering on Sandra for a second, before she turned to Amber and Jenna. Amber stopped beside Beth and lit a cigarette. She took a long drag and blew the smoke in Beth's face. Beth scowled and swatted the smoke away. "God, Amber, you're gonna burn your lungs out before you're twenty, smokin' like you do."
"Naw, can't smoke at home." Amber smiled. "My parents would kill me if they found out." She inclined her head toward Jenna. "At least I ain't like Jenna, makin' it with over half the guys in Old Forge . . . not to mention the tourists."
"Hey, that's not true," Jenna quipped, brushing her fingers through her long, wavy flaxen hair, her sapphire eye's glistening mischievously. "I only go for the gorgeous ones . . . and leave the rest for you guys."
"You're too kind, Jenna," Beth scoffed, gesturing toward a grouping of trees up a head. "In there. It's the perfect spot."
They walked the rest of the way in near silence. Amber and Jenna lagged behind, gossiping and giggling quietly, while Sandra and Krista resumed the lead with Beth beside them. Once inside the circle of trees, Krista situated the black rectangular mirror on the ground. Beth placed the candles around it, then lit them.
When they were all seated around the mirror, Beth handed the knife to Amber, who cut her index finger and wrote a backwards 'R' in blood on the glass. Amber gave the blade to Jenna and she followed suit only this time added the letter, 'A'. Both Krista and Beth took a turn and then it came to Sandra.
Sandra shook her head and pushed the knife away. "I'm not doing that."
"You have to," Jenna and Amber squealed nearly at the same time.
"I'm not gonna," Sandra adamantly replied.
"Here, give me that!" Beth grabbed the knife from Krista. She glared at Sandra, the candlelight reflecting eery golden light in her eyes. Beth silently dared Sandra to turn her head as she closed her palm around the blade and sliced downward, a hiss of pain escaping her lips. With her own blood, Beth finished the name and then drew a pentagram around it.
"Now, if Sandra doesn't have any more objections we can begin." When Sandra said nothing, Beth continued, "Join hands and repeat every word I say. Beliar, in this dark hour, we seek your truth, we seek your power."
"Beliar, in this dark hour, we seek your truth, we seek your power," they all chimed in, saying it over and over again, their voices growing louder. The wind howled furiously, the candles flickered, then grew, licking greedily at the shadows.
From deep within the mirror, they heard a dark, charismatic voice. "Finally. The day of reckoning is at hand."
In an explosion of writhing flames, the mirror shattered. Thick black smoke billowed from the glass and hovered above them.
Suddenly, Beth's head slammed back on her shoulders. Her screams choked off as the vile smoke surged down her throat. Her head snapped forward. Jade green eyes glazed, then turned brilliant and dark obsidian as she fixed each girl in turn with her glittering gaze. A wicked smile twisted on her lips.
Terrified, Sandra and Krista broke free of the other girls' grasps and scurried backwards on all fours, while Beth held firmly onto Jenna and Amber's hands, squeezing tightly and refusing to let them move. Both girls screamed as she crushed the bones in their fingers. "I have waited far too long for this day to come," Beth said with a derisive laugh.
Beth stood and pulled Amber and Jenna to their feet. "You sought the truth," she paused and glanced from one girl to the other and then uttered, "and the truth is that you shall die." She forcefully pitched Amber to the ground and turned her attention to Jenna. "You were sleeping with Beth's boyfriend behind her back." Beth grabbed Jenna by the neck and lifted her off the ground. "What a good friend you are . . . aren't you."
"Beth, I'm so sorry," Jenna pleaded, her voice coming out in choked sobs as she tried to wriggle free from Beth's steely grasp. "It just happened . . . I never meant — "
"Beth is no longer here . . . I am Beliar. However, I prefer Belial. Those who call me by Beliar usually end up dying. . . . Man, it so sucks to be you right about now, doesn't it?" A maniacal laugh escaped his parted lips as Jenna trembled in his arms.
Jenna twisted around and cried out to Amber. "Help me, Amber . . . please!"
"I don't think so." Belial waved his hand in the air, pinning the girls to the ground with his demonic power. He returned his gaze to Jenna. "When lust is the offending sin, we must pluck it from our sight. But since Beth's boyfriend isn't here, we must do the next best thing" Belial raised Beth's hand, and her fingers cracked and split. Blood dripped down her arm as thick yellowish claws ripped through her polished fingernails. "I forgive you of your sin," Belial sneered and lowering the two middle fingers, he plunged daggerlike claws into Jenna's eyes so ferociously the tips protruded from the back of her skull. "And now Beth forgives you as well."
Horrified, the three girls screamed as they watched Jenna's body slump over into Beth's arms. Belial grabbed her hair and wrenched her free from his claws and threw her lifeless body against a hawthorn tree. Jenna crumpled to the forest floor, twigs and branches snarling into her hair.
Then Belial turned her diabolical glare to Amber. "So, you like to smoke . . . like to burn out your insides."
Amber swallowed hard as she shook her head.
"Let's just see how much you like it," Belial snarled.
"No . . . I — "Amber began, but Belial cut her off.
"Obey thy parents . . . such a simple commandment and one we demons love so dearly. Strangely enough, the simplest ones are always the hardest to follow." Belial strode over to Amber and wrapped his fingers around her thick reddish-blond locks and dragged her to her feet. "Thou shalt not sin, Amber, but if you do — " Belial leaned into her. With their lips lightly touching, he blew his heated, sulfur-scented breath into her mouth. "I will show no mercy." He abruptly released her from his grasp.
Amber stumbled backwards, tripped over Krista and landed on top of Sandra. Amber coughed, gasping for breath, her body convulsing with the effort. She grabbed hold of Sandra's coat and struggled to pull herself up until they faced each other. Blood seeped out of the corners of Amber's eyes and from her dried, cracked lips. Sweat streamed from her fevered forehead, her skin bubbling and blistering from the heat of her parched skin. Amber opened her mouth to speak and fiery steam escaped from her lips, scorching Sandra's face.
"Stop it! Leave us alone!" Sandra cried out, panic-stricken, protectively holding onto Amber.
"Oh, I don't think so. This is way too much fun," Belial taunted as Amber let out a choked gasp and then went deathly still. "Two down . . . two to go."
In an instant, Belial was at Sandra's side, kneeling down and gesturing toward Krista. "Quick or slow . . . you decide."
Sandra gaped at Belial and then Krista. Krista trembled violently, deep wrenching sobs tore from her lips. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she desperately tried to move away.
"Please, Sandra," came Krista's scarcely controlled plea.
Sandra peered up at Belial and shook her head, swiping away her own tears. "I won't."
"Very well." Instantaneously, Belial was at Krista's side, crouching as he twisted around and opened his hand and summoned the blade. The knife they'd used earlier flew into his outstretched palm. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and then dragged the edge of the blade down Krista's throat. Blood oozed from the cut. Krista screamed out in agony as he slashed into her right cheek and then the left."Decide!" Belial demanded, jabbing the sharp tip into the corner of her eye.
"D-Don't — don't let him make me suffer," Krista sobbed. "Please . . . I'm begging you."
"Quick . . . make it quick," Sandra cried out, her upper lip quivering. She lowered her head to the side.
"No, you mustn't look away," Belial ordered. He waved his hand and Sandra's head wrenched to face him. His sinister glimmering eyes met her terrified gaze. He slammed the dagger into Krista's throat and yanked downwards. The blood-soaked steel cleaved through her chest and stomach. Her innards spilled out onto the damp forest floor. Belial stood, dragged her body from the ground and threw her into a tree. Krista's lifeless form caught between the crook of two thick branches, and her head lolled to the side. "And now for you." He waved his hand again, releasing Sandra from his demonic grip.
"I don't want to die . . . please," Sandra cried, pushing Amber off her lap, she slowly crept backwards. "I'll do anything."
Belial's attention diverted briefly as he stared into the darkened recesses of the forest. His eyes narrowed and he smiled. Then, he was at Sandra's side, whispering seductively in her ear. "I have a message I want you to deliver." Belial touched her forehead and nodded, satisfied. "When the time is right, you will remember."
Suddenly, Belial slammed his fist into Sandra's jaw. Sandra's head snapped to the side as she fell to the ground. She recovered and kicked him squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling. She sprang to her feet, and ran as fast as she could. Belial caught her by the hair and whipped her around, smashing his fist into her side and then drove his blade deep into her shoulder. Sandra doubled over, trying desperately to catch her breath. She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting salty blood.
Belial's grip tightened around her tangled tresses. He yanked her closer to him and sliced into her right cheekbone with his claws. Razor-sharp fingernails bit savagely into her flesh. Sandra screamed, thrashing wildly, her hair ripping from her scalp.
Sandra broke free and staggered away. Her eyes blurred, darkness threatening to engulf her. She tried to move faster but her legs felt thick and useless. Sandra's shoulder throbbed mercilessly as blood coursed freely from her wound.
Through heavily-lidded eyes, she peered up and saw a tall, lanky man haloed in a strange silver haze not more than ten feet in front on her. An angel. She was dying. Sandra stumbled over to him and fell into his open arms, her nails digging a crimson trail down his bare chest. Her head dropped back on her shoulders as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes. "Help me," she whispered and then her head lolled to the side.
"Sam! Open the damn door!" Dean hollered, slamming his fist against the bathroom door, and jiggling the handle. When Sam didn't answer, Dean kicked the door in and rushed to his brother's side.
Sam sat against the cold tiled wall between the sink and the bathtub with his legs curled up, fingers woven tightly in his damp hair, a towel wrapped around his waist. His lank body trembled. Dean crouched beside him, his green eyes narrowed noticing bloodied raised welts on his brother's bare chest. "What happened, Sammy?"
Sam glanced up and Dean saw that his nose was bleeding. Tears glistened in his hazel eyes. "I don't know, Dean . . . A vision, I think. But it was different."
"How so?" Dean's brows pulled together in concern.
"It was like I was actually there. The girls were screaming, I could taste their blood in the air and smell flesh burning, and then. . . ." his voice trailed off.
"And then what?" Dean softly coaxed.
"And then she begged me to help her right before she died in my arms."
Dean let out a pent breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to make of Sam's visions or the marks on his chest. "Are you sure they're dead, Sammy?"
Sam nodded. "I couldn't stop it, Dean . . . didn't even try. I just stood there rooted to my spot and watched as it killed one girl after another. God, Dean, I didn't even realize it was actually happening until she landed in my arms and I felt her nails digging into my skin." Sam angrily swiped away a tear with the back of his hand. His forehead furrowed as he grabbed hold of Dean's T-shirt. "I should've tried to stop it, Dean . . . I should have done something."
"Come on, Sammy. It's not your fault," Dean said, patting his brother on the shoulder. He stood and helped Sam to his feet, being careful not to put too much strain on his brother's recently injured ribs. Sam flinched and Dean cursed under his breath. He'd wanted to give Sam a chance to heal more from the vampire attack before they went on another hunt, but now that would be impossible. "Let's go an' kill that evil sonuvabitch."
Outside the bathroom, Sam eased down onto the bed and brooded quietly. Dean nudged him and handed over his clothes, then started throwing their stuff into duffle bags. Sam sat there, his head lowered, not bothering to put his clothes on. Silently, Dean waited for Sam to say something. Waited, knowing that his little brother blamed himself for their deaths. Waited, knowing there was nothing he could say that would change Sam's mind. Finally, Dean couldn't stand the silence any longer. "You can't blame yourself, dude."
Sam cocked his head to the side and peered up at his brother. "Dean, you should have seen the look in her eyes," he murmured forlornly. "She thought I could save her . . . and I did nothing."
"Well, we can't save everyone, Sammy."
"But I should have been able to help her. I was right there."
"No, Sam, you were here with me." When Sam shook his head and was about to argue, Dean shook his own head and added, "And I don't care what kind of freak premonition you had, it doesn't change the fact that not more than thirty minutes ago you were singing in the shower . . . badly, I might add . . . but still singing nonetheless."
A wry smile pulled at the corner of Sam's lips. "You're right, Dean."
"Of course I am, that's why I'm always in charge," Dean said with a winsome smile.
"Whatever, jerk."
"Bitch."
Sam laughed, then winced, gingerly kneading his ribs. Dean noticed the once long purplish-red bruises along the side of Sam's taut muscular chest were faded and tinged with yellow and the swelling had gone down considerably. "Where did you put the bandages, Sammy?"
"In my bag."
Dean rummaged through Sam's duffel until he found them. He strode over to the bed and motioned for Sam to raise his arms and then began to bind his ribs tightly. When Dean was finished, he stood back and admired his work. "Not a bad job, if I do say so myself."
"Yeah right, Nurse Ratchet." Sam fidgeted around trying to loosen the bandages a bit. "Man, Dean . . . if you'd tied these things any tighter, you'd be givin' me mouth to mouth resuscitation."
"Quit being a girl, Sammy. Now get your sorry butt up and get dressed so we can go and hunt that thing down."
While Sam got dressed, Dean took their bags and threw them in the Impala and then went to check out. By the time Dean returned, Sam was already in the car. Dean got in, turned the key and the engine roared to life.
"Where to?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know . . . east I think."
"East, you think?"
"Well, the leaves were changing color and it was cold."
Dean shook his head, his eyes narrowed slightly. "So you have no idea where we're going, do you?"
"No. I thought we would just drive east until something looked familiar or we heard about it on the news." Sam cocked his head to the side and stared hard at Dean. "After all, four teenage girls being murdered would certainly make the headlines somewhere."
Dean was about to argue, but the determined look in his brother's eyes and the slight tick in his cheek, spoke volumes. Sam still blamed himself for what had happened and was hell-bent on finding whatever demon had killed those girls and nothing was going to stop him.
Finally, Dean nodded. "East it is then." Backing the Impala out of the parking spot, Dean shifted to drive and peeled out of the parking lot, dust and smoke scattered in their wake.
Sam knocked and then entered the hospital room with Dean behind him. A young girl, no more than seventeen or eighteen, lay beneath the covers of the bed. Her eyes were closed, her right cheek bandaged. Thick brown waves of hair haloed her pale, drawn face.
Sam sucked in a deep breath feeling as if someone had just punched him in the gut. His stomach churned violently and he felt as if he might throw up. He shivered involuntarily as sweat prickled at the back of his neck and beaded on his forehead. He swivelled around to face Dean, inclining his head toward her. "I can't do this, Dean."
Sam tried to leave, but Dean grabbed hold of his arm and stopped him. "What do you mean, you can't do this? We drove all the way from Tucson to kill this thing and she's the only witness."
"That's her, Dean. She's the girl who landed in my arms . . . the one who begged me to save her," Sam uttered, his voice thick with emotion. His sorrowful hazel eyes pleaded with Dean to understand.
"So, we've got a job to do, Sammy. We need to find out what kind of demon we're dealin' with and she's the only one who can help."
"She's gonna recognize me."
"No, she isn't." Dean grinned. "She probably thought you were some sort of angel, dressed in nothing but a towel, flexing your pecs at her."
"Not funny, dude. And I wasn't flexing anything at her. God, Dean, she's only a girl."
"So, she's cute."
"You're sick."
"Whatever, dude." Dean pushed him forward into the room and cleared his throat to gain her attention. "Excuse me."
The girl's eyes fluttered open. She glanced up at Dean and smiled. Wincing, she gently touched the side of her face. She looked from Dean to Sam and her grayish-green eyes narrowed slightly. She tilted her head to the side, a befuddled expression on her face. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Sam cast a sidelong glance at his brother, and Dean shrugged, a smirk on his face. Returning his attention to her, Sam smiled awkwardly and said, "I don't think so. We're reporters, Miss Parker. This is Dean," he gestured toward his brother, "and I'm Sam."
If it were at all possible, she appeared even more confused. "Sam and Dean," she repeated breathlessly.
"Yeah, we wanted to ask you a few questions." Dean graced her with one of his most dazzling smiles, but she never even noticed. He grabbed a chair from the table by the window, motioned for Sam to do the same, and sat beside the bed. "It won't take long, Miss Parker."
"It's Sandra," she said, briefly looking away from Sam to Dean and then her gaze strayed back and firmly fixed on Sam. "What did you want to know?"
"What really happened that night, Sandra?" Dean asked.
"I already told the other reporters what happened. They didn't believe me . . . no one does . . . no one really wants to hear the truth."
"We do," Dean assured.
She nodded as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "Okay," she began.
They sat quietly, listening and exchanged knowing glances as Sandra recounted what had happened, grim tight-lipped frowns on both their faces.
When Sandra was finished, she added, "It was supposed to be a joke. You know . . . for fun. I never believed —" her voice trailed off as more tears filled her eyes. "And then Beth — her eyes were so black. How does something like that happen?"
"Have you ever watched the Exorcist, Sandra?" Dean asked flippantly, shaking his head in disgust, his green eyes narrowing.
"Yeah," she replied, confusion registering on her face.
"And what, that whole heading spinning around, puke spewing, levitating off the bed thing looked like a good time to you?" he said, gesturing around his head with his hands. "Cause that's what happens when you mess with demons."
"I um . . . Are you serious?"
Sam knew Dean was about to comment further so he cut him off. "Dean." He threw him a look that clearly said shut up, before he turned and smiled awkwardly at Sandra. "Uh, I think we've taken up enough of your time . . . thanks for allowing us to interview you, Sandra."
They were nearly out the door when she called to them. "Wait . . . I think I have something more to tell you.You said your names were Sam and Dean, right?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, turning to face her.
"I think I have a message for you." Sandra shrugged, her eyes rounding with fear. "It just came to me all of the sudden like it was some kind of deep seeded threat buried in the back of my
mind . . . I'm not even sure it is meant for you, but. . . ." her voice trailed off.
"But what?" Dean prompted.
"Beliar said that he saw you." She gestured toward Sam. "He saw you and knew you would come . . . he'll being waiting for you and your brother."