So this story rattled around in my head after I watched Hocus Pocus last weekend. That's always been one of my favorite childhood movies, and I couldn't help wondering what would happen if the Sanderson sisters found themselves facing the Winchester brothers…
"Dude. Seriously?"
There was a pause, then, "What?"
Sam didn't even bother glancing up from his research as he heard the crackle of another empty wrapper land on the growing heap beside the bed. He smirked at the twinge of innocence in his brother's voice. "You know what."
"Not really."
"Dean."
"Sammy," he shot back, taking another bite of the Twix bar. He caught Sam looking at him and opened his mouth, displaying the gooey chocolate mess for his inspection. "Hey, I'm just getting into the holiday spirit."
"Right. And you felt the need to purchase several pounds of candy because…"
Dean shrugged. "Didn't want to disappoint the trick-or-treaters."
"We don't get trick-or-treaters."
"Hey, we might."
"At a hotel?"
"You never know," Dean said, grinning as he held out the bag, "Want some?"
"Don't come running to me when your stomach explodes, man," Sam said, looking away as a glob of chocolate slid down Dean's chin. He scanned another news headline, frowning before he clicked on another similar article. "Huh."
Dean chewed, swallowed. Opened a peanut butter cup and dropped the wrapper on the others. "Huh what?"
"I think I found us a case," he said, turning the laptop around so Dean could see the screen, "In Salem. Children keep disappearing every year."
Dean frowned, scanning the page. Hunts were always worse when there were kids involved. "Kids disappear all the time, Sam. That doesn't really point to anything supernatural." Just perverted bastards and psychos…
"Maybe," Sam admitted, "But there is one detail that might suggest otherwise."
"What's that?"
He shrugged. "The kids keep disappearing on Halloween night. For the last five years. And since today is Halloween…"
"You want us to check it out."
"We're about an hour from Salem. Couldn't hurt."
Dean wiped his chocolate smudged hands on his jeans and stood up. "Fine. Pack up your junk, I'll go to the lobby and check us out."
SNSNSNSN
"Well, it's official," Dean said, three hours later as he threw his duffle bag down on the bed in their new hotel room, "This town is bat shit crazy."
Sam looked up from his laptop. "Care to elaborate?"
"Well, for a town that's been losing kids every year on this date," he said, throwing a handful of pamphlets down on the table, "They're sure obsessed with Halloween." When Sam continued to look confused, he fanned the brochures out for him to see. "Tonight there are about…eight, maybe nine costume parties scheduled. Live bands will be playing in the town square, trick-or-treating galore—"
"Dean…"
"Plus there's everyone's unhealthy obsession with witches," he continued, exasperated.
"Well, we are in Salem," Sam broke in defensively. He twisted the cap off a water bottle and took a sip. "The location of the Salem Witch Trials and all that. I don't think they actually believe in any of it, it's just part of their history."
"Oh, they believe, Sam," Dean said, "They believe. And guess what? The ladies at the front desk were all over me, telling me that I had to check out this old house a few miles out of town…" He trailed off, searching through the pile until he found a particular brochure. He handed it to his brother.
"The Sanderson sisters?" Sam read, opening the booklet. "Who're they?"
"That's the funny thing, Sammy," Dean said, sitting on his bed and pulling out a Snickers bar, "Go ahead and read it. It's almost too obvious. You're going to get a good laugh out of this one."
"Why? What's obvious?" Sam muttered, eyes scanning the page.
"Apparently the Sanderson sisters were three witches who lived in the 1600's. Guess what they liked to do for fun?" he paused until Sam glanced at him, then continued darkly, "They killed kids…sucked out their life essence or something so that they could stay young forever. You know. The usual."
"They killed kids," Sam said flatly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Really?"
"Yeah. Really. Anything about that sound familiar to you?"
"Maybe it's just a coincidence."
"Come on, Sam. Is it ever a coincidence? Keep reading."
Sam frowned, glancing back down at the brochure. His eyes widened. "Dude," he said, reaching the bottom of the last page. "The town turned the sisters' cottage into a museum?"
"Bingo," Dean snorted, finishing the candy, "They preserved the cottage, along with the witches' possessions. Brilliant, right? Told you the people here are complete wackos. I'm willing to bet my life that everything we need to solve this case is in that house. I hate to say it, but this might be an easy hunt for once."
"Don't jinx us," Sam said, reaching out and swiping the Snickers bar out of his brother's hand.
"Hey!"
"You snooze you lose," he said victoriously, smiling as he peeled the wrapper off. "Let's go check it out."
Thanks for reading! Reviews are like Halloween candy.
