The Docks of Stonington, Maine, 1 AM
Lightening flashed across the midnight blue sky as a white bearded fisherman trudged down the empty lamp-lit dock. The squeaking of his rubber boots was barely audible against the clap of thunder and roar of the chilly wind.
The bearded man dropped the traps into the small boat with a loud clank. The waves slapped against the side of his boat and sloshed over the side of the deck. He squinted up at the outline of clouds against the dark sky and started to think maybe he should wait and come back after storm passed. He scratched his bushy beard absentmindedly as he thought about it. Who knows how long the storm will last though? If he waits much longer, he won't catch anything.
As he bent down to untie the boat from the cleat, something white flickered across the edge of his vision. He glanced at the end of the dock. Seeing nothing, he returned to loosening the rope, thinking it was probably just a seagull.
Then he heard it – the most beautiful song in the world. A heavenly voice sang to him, filling him with overwhelming joy. Such a perfect voice must belong to an angel, he thought. Where was it coming from though? He looked down to the end of the dock once again.
A lovely woman with pearly white glowing hair and skin was in the water gazing at him. He stared back at her transfixed by her angelic beauty and singing. The rest of the world melted away until it was just the two of them. Tears of happiness ran down his cold cheeks, mixing with the wetness of the rain drops that he didn't even noticed. The blissful melody compelled him to go toward the woman in the sea. He did it without hesitation for he knew he would follow that voice to the ends of the earth.
He hurried down the wooden planks, eager to see her splendid radiance up close. She flashed him an alluring smile as he approached her, but her bright green eyes held only cruelty. Once he was standing at the end of the docks, a mere five feet in front of her, he noticed that she was not singing to him even though he could still hear the music. He opened his mouth to speak to her – to ask her what she was – but was interrupted by the change of the song.
The voice took on a heart breaking tone, echoing profound and everlasting sadness. It felt like a black hole was sucking away everything that mattered to him until he was left with nothing. The old man fell to his knees and wept uncontrollably. He didn't know if he could stand it any longer.
"Make it stop," he begged through his sobs. "P-please."
"Come to me and I'll make it all go away," she promised. When the woman spoke, her voice sounded nothing like the heavenly voice he heard in his head, it was full of hatred. Her smile twisted into spiteful one.
Even through the fog of overwhelming despair consuming him, he wanted to refuse her, but instead, he found himself rising from his knees. He couldn't seem to control his own body; he was under her control like a helpless bug caught in a black widow's web. The gale forced wind pounded against him as if trying to push him back from what he was about to do.
With fear lining his weather-beaten features, he looked down into the churning black water. The malevolent music commanded him to sink to the bottom of the ocean, and powerless to resist, he stepped off the end of the dock into the watery abyss.
Chapter 1
"Hey Dean," Sam shouted to wake up his brother. "Get up."
Dean groaned. "What is it?" he grumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the morning sunlight seeping through the windows.
"I think I've found something" Sam announced. He rose from the uncomfortable wooden table where his laptop was and stretched his long arms. Sam had been up most of the night trying to find a job while Dean was passed out drunk all night. How typical, Sam thought somewhat bitterly.
Dean reluctantly threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his forehead as if he could rub the massive hangover headache away. He glanced blurry-eyed at the red glowing hotel alarm clock that revealed it was barely six a.m., then glared at Sam. "Couldn't you wait a few hours? I was just having an awesome dream; Sasha Gray was giving me a lap dance." Dean looked off into the distance longingly as he recalled the dream.
Sam's previous annoyance with Dean disappeared, and he smirked. "Well, that explains that goofy-ass grin on your face before I woke you up. In fact, I still think I see a little drool." Sam pointed to the left side of his mouth with amusement in his eyes.
Dean lightly slapped the corner of his mouth and wiped it away. "Whatever, man. What did you find that was so important it couldn't wait?"
"There was an accidental drowning last night in a small harbor town in Maine called Stonington." Sam explained as he shoved his laptop into his backpack. "The locals think he tripped and fell off the dock, hitting his head on the side of the dock and accidently drowning."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Well, that seems like a reasonable conclusion."
"Yea, that's what I thought too. Until I dug a little deeper and saw that there has been a string of drownings going back since the twenties."
"That's not exactly unusual in fishing town, Sammy. When you live by the water, there are incidents involving drowning" Dean pointed out, not seeming convinced this was a case for them to look into. He thought if Sam woke him up this early without a real lead, he was going to be pissed.
"Yeah, but are several witnesses claiming they saw people just walk into the water and not come back out usual? None of these people had any previous mental problems. And get this, all of the drowning victims are men. Plus, there's been a few reports about a white-haired woman appearing in the water at the harbor." Sam gave Dean a pointed look as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, indicating it was time to go.
Dean nodded. "Alright. Let's hit the road then."