LOVE'S PAST

The moonlit sky was the only light visible as the '67 Impala drove along an old abandoned road, heading for the only cemetery left in this county. It was there that lied the remains of Abrahm Spencer, a spirit that haunted the nearby country inn owned by the young woman Delia Spencer, the only descendent left of Abrahm.

She had told the young deputies about the strange occurrences that have been happening to her after the recent death of her younger sister. She's said that things would've been moved during the night and the footsteps of an invisible intruder could be heard.

"I hear the footsteps every night but I'm damn sure the house is locked down otherwise the security system would be tripped."

That's why they were out here seeking the final resting place of Abrahm. He'd lived and died in that historical inn, it been his life's work and after his death, left to weather the storms each passing year.

"Take a right here," the youngest deputy said, looking up from the map. "The cemetery is the only thing on this road."

The driver whistled, "You ever wonder what these boom towns use to look like?"

"Like I have time to wonder."

"Sammy boy, you need to lighten up."

"Until we find Abrahm's grave, I won't relax."

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew Sam had a thing for Delia and he proved it with the lingering kiss they shared before heading out here.

Up ahead lied the old cemetery, overgrown over time since it had last been used. Dean parked the car and stepped out into the eerily quiet night.

Sam got out and went to open the trunk, grabbing the container of gasoline and the jar of salt. He slammed the trunk shut and followed his brother in, noting that it was darker here then back out on the road.

Dean pulled out a flashlight and began looking for Abrahm's grave. "Damn, this place is horrid; how can someone let it grow over like this." He complained.

Sam shook his head, "It hasn't been in use for over fifty years, what you expect?"

"Delia could at least take care of it."

Sam shot a glaring look to his brother, "She has better things to do."

"Of course I have better things to do." Her voice said as she appeared from the darkness.

"Delia?" Sam said in confusion.

"Actually, I'm Elizabeth Spencer, Abrahm's wife."

Dean pulled out the gun he'd hidden in the back of his jeans, pointing it directly at her. Sam stood frozen, unbelieving to what he just heard.

"But you seemed..." he trailed off.

"Alive? I wish. My great grand-daughter was good for at least something before she died. Remember I said my younger sister died? That was Delia actually. That wench got what she deserved."

"So you're behind this all?" Dean asked in annoyance.

"Why yes dear Dean. My husband and son need warn bodies in order to live again."

Dean fired the gun and watched as Elizabeth's face turned to horror. Sam had by then found her grave as well as Abrahm's and begun dumping salt around the graves. He smiled as he poured the gasoline next upon the already open graves.

"Seems she was going to kill us off Dean." He said, lighting a match.

"DON'T YOU DARE SAM!" she screamed and watched as he dropped it. "NO!" she shrieked and absorbed into the air.

Dean walked over and patted Sam on the back. "Next time you fall for a girl at least make sure she's alive."

Sam glared at him and got into the car, Dean slid in next to him and turned on the car before spinning around and peeling out. Another day, another town, another job done.