Chapter 1 – The Hunt

Dad kept trying to convince me that this job was too dangerous for Sammy to come along on. But after pointing out that Sam was eight years old and could handle the pressure, Dad finally agreed to let him go. When I told Sam, he was excited to go on the hunt. Dad still thought of him as a baby and rarely let him go on hunts. I wanted to protect Sam as much as Dad did, but I did think that it would be nice to have an extra person to watch our backs. And Sam didn't have to go into the extremely dangerous situations.

Now that I looked back on it, I wished I had told him to stay in the hotel room and catch up on all of his nerdy books. But it's too late for that now and I'll have to live with that decision. But I'm jumping ahead of myself; back to the story.

As night closed in, Dad, Sam, and I loaded into the Impala and headed to the place where the ghost we were hunting was. On the whole ride over, Dad lectured Sam on how he needed to run if things went sideways. I knew Sam was tired of hearing this lecture every time he went on a hunt; I know I was certainly sick of it.

On the whole ride over, all I could think of was what would happen if Sam did get hurt. I knew it was unlikely he would get hurt on his first hunt, but he was still a kid and could do stupid things. I needed to prove to Dad that I could take care of Sammy both in the motels and on a hunt. Sometimes I still felt that Dad thought I couldn't take care of Sammy. I had been doing that for the past eight years and I was tired of Dad not appreciating me. But one day Dad would finally realize how much I did for him and appreciate me.

After about fifteen minutes of listening to Dad drone on about how dangerous our line of work was, we finally arrived at the abandoned building the ghost was supposedly possessing.

After one more word of caution, the three of us entered the building, first Dad, then Sam, and me in the rear. I had to make sure that nothing happened to Sam while we were here. Dad could find and kill the ghost, but it was my job to make sure that Sam wasn't hurt. Dad had talked to me several times on what to do when Sam finally went on his first hunt. The time had come to prove to Dad that I could protect Sam when things were dangerous. Besides, I was twelve now which practically made me a man.

We slowly searched the abandoned building, looking for any sign of the ghost. We were each armed with a shotgun, but Dad had been adamant that Sam would not use his, except in emergency situations.

"This is a learning hunt for you," Dad had said. "No trying to be heroic and get this ghost on your own."

I also had a container of salt in my pocket to use if things got out of hand. If the situation got too dangerous, I would force Sam to stay in a salt circle and let Dad and I do the work. I knew he would put up a fight and could easily disobey, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

After searching the building for a few minutes with no sight of the ghost, I was about to suggest we call it a night when I felt the temperature drop at least ten degrees.

"Did you feel that," Sam whispered. "Does that mean it's close?"
"Yes," I answered. "Stay quiet."

We were all on high alert, ready for the ghost to appear any minute. We turned a corner, and there an image flashed before us, a bloody axe in his hand. I grabbed Sam's arm and pushed him behind me.

"Don't move," I ordered.

Dad lifted his gun, but before he could take a shot, the ghost rematerialized right in front of me. I blinked several times but I wasn't afraid of what it could do. I had faced plenty of ghosts before and this one was no different.

I reached for the axe, knowing that if I wanted to get rid of the ghost I would have to destroy the thing that was tying him here. My hands grasped part of the handle, but before I could pry it from his hands, he grasped my throat and squeezed. I tried prying his fingers away with one hand, still trying to get the axe with the others. But he was too strong for me and I could feel the breath leaving me. My eyes starting rolling back, but before I could pass out, the pressure was suddenly released. I sank to the ground, trying to catch my breath. Dad was in front of me, his gun still smoking from the fire he had fired.

"Thanks," I gasped.

"Hurry, go burn the axe before he comes back," Dad said.

I looked down to discover that I had actually gotten the axe from the ghost. Yes! Now I would be able to destroy the ghost and make Dad proud.

I ran into the frigid night air and threw the axe on the ground. Fumbling inside my pocket, I pulled out my salt and lighter, ready to end this sucker. I sprinkled the salt and was about to set it on fire when I heard Dad yell from inside the building.

I raced back inside, anxious about what I would find. I had never heard that panic in Dad's voice since the night Mom died. When I returned to the place where I had left Dad ad Sam, I found Dad standing over Sam, who was laying on the ground, unconscious.

"Sammy?" I yelled. "What happened?"

"The ghost grabbed him and threw him across the room," Dad said. "Why didn't you kill it sooner?" he asked.

"I was going as fast as I could," I retorted. Sammy was hurt and all Dad could do was criticize me for not doing my job as fast as he wanted. If he wanted the job done quicker, he should've done it himself.

I knelt down next to him, my heart beating rapidly. His face was so pale that it looked almost as white as the ghost's. How had I allowed this to happen? I was supposed to protect him, not let him get hurt. Steadying my shaking hands, I pressed my fingers against his neck, hoping for any signs of life, any sign that everything would be okay.

Nothing.