Knocking on Death's door chapter 2
Sam and Dean arrived at the motel and parked their car, never noticing their followers. Sam and Dean got out the car and Sam looked over his shoulder but there was nothing on the empty road. He could have sworn he felt something watching him. He shrugged it off and followed his brother inside. His brother had already gotten them a room and thanked the young man behind the desk.
"Let's go Sam," he said and they headed to their room. Sam was still bothered by something but couldn't quite place his finger on it. Dean opened the door and claimed the furthest bed from the door and close to the window by tossing his bag on it. Sam settled for the other one and closed the door behind him.
"Hey," Sam said, "did you see that blue jeep on the road behind us?" He asked as he took of his jacket and set his own bag full of books and his stuff on the floor.
Dean had picked up a magazine and lay on top of his bed. He glanced at Sam from above the magazine.
"No," he said after thinking for a second, "why?" He asked but he'd already turned back to his magazine.
"Well," Sam continued anyway, "they seemed to have been following us and it was the same jeep the deputy stopped earlier, then one driven by some school kids."
Dean recalled the event and put his magazine down. He rubbed his chin.
"Yeah," he said thoughtfully, "could be. Say it was them, why would they follow us? Couldn't they just have been passing through or looking for a room?"
He said unconcerned. Sam shrugged,
"They seemed local, given the Deputy knew them, what business would they have here?"
The motel wasn't exactly a pretty sight so it had been set on the most west corner of town, incredibly close to the woods.
Sam shrugged it off,
"probably nothing," he said, more to himself than Dean. He made his way to his own bed and given there was no desk he placed his books on it. All of them where from every corner of lore around the world, or at least most, he couldn't possibly bring all the books from the men of letters, but he trusted these to be enough.
He plopped down on the bed and began opening them, searching in the index for anything that might be of any help. Dean got up from his own bed.
"Alright Sam, I'll go do some research of my own."
Dean said and crossed the room in two strides. Sam nodded, looking up from his books briefly,
"yeah, okay."
He said and Dean was out the door again. Sam was slightly worried, his brother seemed oddly distant lately but he couldn't figure out why.
He dropped the thought and went back to his book.
"He's not answering." Scott said, getting more worried by the minute as the two of them drove slowly down the empty streets of Beacon Hills.
"Hey Scott, calm down, he could just be busy alright. We'll call him back later, we should visit the Sheriff station first then."
Scott bit his lip, still not feeling right about this. Shouldn't they go and check on Deaton. But it had happened before that he simply left his phone in the wrong place or his day was filled appointments. So he nodded.
"Alright, let's go."
"Great!"
Stiles changed gears to speed up the car when the phone rang. Hoping it was Deaton Scott opened his phone hastily when he realised that wasn't his ring tone. Besides, the sound was coming from somewhere else. It was Stiles' phone. Stiles didn't notice either, he was looking out of the window with one eye and had the other on the road, his arm up on the window, completely calm. He turned to his friend as he felt Scott's eyes bore into him.
"What?" he asked innocently. Scott just stared at him, Stiles still had no idea what was going on.
"Your phone!" Scott exclaimed urgently, not believing Stiles' oblivion to the situation.
"Oh!" Stiles shouted in panic and frantically searched for his ringing phone, keeping one hand on the wheel.
"Yeah hello!" He shouted into the phone once he got it, holding it between his ear and his shoulder as he needed both hands to turn around a bend. He visibly flinched and almost dropped the phone at the voice coming through the speaker.
"Stiles? What the hell were you thinking skipping school to go to the Sheriff's station?"
Stiles' eyes widened in shock,
"Dad, you can't possibly believe that at a time like this school is more important than what's happening."
"Stiles, we've talked about this. We're happy for you to help out but you need to do it outside of school hours!"
"But dad..."
"No buts! I assume you're on your way here now aren't' you?"
"Yes…"
Stiles said hesitantly, not sure whether that was the right answer.
"Okay, then, hurry up. But no going over the speed limit!"
Stilinski said and hung up the phone, Stiles turned to Scott with a grin.
"Told you they needed us!"
He exclaimed happily and picked up speed, disregarding his father's last request. Scott held on tightly as they practically soared through Beacon Hills.
"Shoot! I almost forgot, we're supposed to meet the others at six."
Scott said and Stiles swore. He tossed Scott his phone,
"text Lydia. Tell her it's off for now. We'll go tomorrow."
Scott nodded and did as he was told.
Sam rubbed his temple, going through the same book, again and again, trying to see if he'd missed anything. He slammed it shut in defeat, there was nothing to find on anything. No explanation as to what would rip off a girl's head and then leave it, or how no one knew who she was. Nothing on werewolf ever behaving that way. Was this some kind of unheard of mutation? A crossbreed?
He sighed and got up, wondering what Dean was up to. Whether he'd found anything. He knew he needed more information about the murder before he could continue his research. He needed to see the body and check for anything the doctors might have missed. He would have gone back to the Sheriff station to press for more answers but he couldn't go without Dean, wherever he was.
Dean sighed, still nothing. He'd gone through town, asking locals in shops, sitting outside their houses but nothing that sounded slightly credible. Everyone had their theories but none added up to the actual supernatural. He'd brought some groceries from a small store and talked to the woman behind the counter.
"I'm just passing through and I heard all about this poor girl, horrible isn't it?"
He said and the woman nodded, punching in numbers in her calculator.
"It really is. No one even knows who the las was. Such a shame,"
"Yeah," he let an appropriate pause fall so it didn't look like he was too eager to ask her the next question, "what do you think done it?"
He asked and she shrugged.
"Beats me really, maybe a pack of rabbit dogs or wolves. Although, for something to pull her head off so violently, it must have been filled with hate and not just hunger."
Dean nodded and politely left the store. He tried the bar next, it was early so there weren't many people. He walked in in his suit and a few looked at him suspiciously. He'd tried the whole, just a man passing through act. Time to put up the FBI act.
He ordered a drink and took a seat at the bar, next to a few young ladies. He turned to them and flipped open his badge.
"Hello ladies, FBI. I'm here to investigate the murder of the unknown girl."
He said, choosing his words carefully. One of them looked up from her drink and raised an eyebrow.
"A murder? Is that what they're calling it now?"
She asked, shaking her head in disapproval. Another nodded.
"You're wrong agent, it was an animal. A beast."
Another woman said, glancing at Dean with distain.
"I think it's both. A man got to her, beat her, did what he wanted with her and then the wolves finished her off. Or mauled her dead body anyway."
The brunette sitting furthest from the others, a beer in her hand said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Dunno. Maybe the injuries just seemed too deliberate to me."
Nothing again. He asked the few other people in the bar but still…
"Thanks for your time." He said to the very unhelpful local he'd just spoken too. The man simply grunted and turned his attention back to his beer. He was about to give up when a man at the bar spoke,
"You want to know more about the murder, do you? Why?"
Dean turned around to the man who spoke,
"Yes. We're FBI. Me and my partner were told to look into it."
"Well, you might as well give up already." The man said, facing Dean from his seat at the bar.
"What makes you say that?" Dean asked, taking the free seat next to the man.
"Because. Whatever it is, you won't be expecting it. It won't be a human or animal you've ever heard of or seen."
Dean smiled,
"Try me."
"Werewolves." The man said, looking Dean straight in the eye, a gleam in his eyes. Dean laughed it off like any normal person would, keeping up appearances.
"I've seen people do some pretty awful stuff. I don't believe there are monsters worse than men."
"Just wait and see." The man insisted.
Stiles and Scott arrived at the Sheriff's station at a tearing speed. Stiles brought the car to a squealing stop and before he'd parked properly Scott jumped out and Stiles was seconds behind him. They ran up to the front desk and found Stiles' father passing through the hall with a fresh cup of coffee.
"Hello boys," he said and Stiles and Scott looked happy to have found him, "oh you two look way to cheery after what's happened. This isn't a picnic."
He said sternly and Scott and Stiles tried acting as somber as they could. Stilinski looked at them disapprovingly so it can't have been very convincing.
"This way,"
he said with a sigh. They followed Stilinski into his office and found, come usual the investigation board full of pictures, articles and strings. And to the boys surprise a red head standing before it, tracing the lines with her fingers. She turned as she heard them enter and smiled.
"Hey boys."
"Lydia? What are you doing here?" Stiles asked in surprise.
"I got a text from Stiles so I came straight here instead. I'm trying to see if I can sense anything. Parish took me to the crime scene, but nothing…No energy. It's like the death never even happened."
She said thoughtfully and worried. Stiles nodded.
"That is weird."
He walked up beside her and took a look at the board.
"What about those agents?"
Scott asked Stilinski as the man sat down behind his desk.
"Agents?"
Lydia asked, looking to her boyfriend.
"FBI," Stiles said excited and she rolled her eyes, smiling at his goofiness.
Stilinski shook his head,
"It gets even weirder. I memorised their badge numbers and put it into the police search engine but they are not recognised FBI anywhere in America as far as I see."
Stiles looked over his shoulder,
"You're kidding!?"
He said in disbelief.
"So they're fake." Scott said and Stiles made a wining noise.
"But they were so cool!"
Stilinski shook his head.
"I don't know. I called the number of their district and a legitimate, recognised chief in the FBI answered. It all adds up and seems legitimate apart from in our search engine."
He said worried and Stiles raised his eyebrow.
"Software need updating?"
Stilinski sent him a murderous look.
"No. So for now we assume they are legitimate so we don't end up in a pile of shit but we tell them as little as possible."
The rest nodded in agreement.
"Anymore on the girl?"
Scott asked and once again Stilinski looked disheartened.
"No. Although Deaton thinks he's close to finding out who she is. She definitely isn't local. He's comparing fingerprints and blood samples with other hospitals. We've searched for any recent missing child reports in orphanages and from families but nothing."
A silence settled over them and they all looked at the board.
Lydia tilted her head.
"Here, in this picture. Her clothes."
Lydia said with confusion and suspicion in her voice. All the men looked up at what she was pointing at. It was the girl again and in this shot the headless neck was left out you could only see her torso. She was wearing a faded blue dress but they couldn't see anything wrong with it. What was she seeing that they couldn't?
"What?"
Stiles asked and she turned to look at all of them, looking each of them in the eyes.
"You don't see it?"
She asked surprised. They looked between each other, seeing if anyone else understood what she meant.
"See what?" Scott asked.
"They're nowhere near something a modern girl would wear. They've been out of fashion for about 50 years. That's not normal."
Sam yawned as he looked through another book. So many monsters but none seemed to match. Some came close. A viper that swallowed only the head of its victims to consume the knowledge, a half dog, half cat who consumed the soul then left the mangled body for the family to find.
So many monsters. They filled Sam's head and some kept him awake at night, chasing him and morphing into each other until he forgot what they were.
He rubbed his eyes and heard the lock on the door click. He looked up and saw Dean enter, closing the door behind him again.
"Hey Sam," he said and Sam returned the greeting. Dean looked almost as tired as Sam felt. There wasn't much hope in his eyes but Sam asked anyway.
"Found anything?"
Dean said nothing for a second and simply plopped down on his bed.
"No. Nothing. Except a few suspect it's not an animal. One even straight up said werewolf."
"Are we still thinking werewolf?"
"Well, let's not scratch anything but…"
"We just need more information," Sam said sighing and Dean agreed,
"yeah. Did you find anything by any chance?"
"A lot are similar but don't match just yet."
Dean got up,
"well, no point lying around here, we should get back to the Sheriff's. I have a feeling we're going to need to push for every scrap of evidence."
Sam agreed. This town wasn't going to take it easy on them.
"Hang on," Stiles said, looking at Lydia with scrunched eyebrows. "You're saying there is something wrong with the clothes because they are not in fashion?"
He asked incredulously and she nodded.
"Completely. A few years off would be unnoticeable but that is dress from the 1930s."
"But how does that help the case?" Stilinski asked and Lydia looked annoyed.
"Look, you asked whether I'd notice anything, well that's what I noticed."
She took a sticky note and scribbled something on it before sticking it on near the article.
"There. Do with it as you will," she said and Stiles saw that she'd written '1930s clothes?' on the note.
Stiles looked at her, thinking.
"Why would a little girl be wearing clothes form the 1930s?"
Lydia nodded.
"Exactly my point."
Stiles thought about it but couldn't come up with anything. Who would dress a child liked that?
The three teenagers stayed for another hour, working through all the evidence and inspecting the board. Scott yawned,
"I got nothing." He said and Stiles agreed. They couldn't figure anything out from this.
"Maybe we should gather the pack and get Argent and try and find it ourselves. Track it down."
Scott said but Stiles seemed hesitant.
"We don't even know where to start looking. Lydia couldn't see anything at the scene and as you see there is no trail whatsoever."
"Alright, let's go to Deaton then."
"yeah, that would be great actually, the man's not picking up his phone and we need that autopsy."
Stilinski said and Stiles and Scott nodded.
"Alright yeah, we'll check it out."
"Lydia, you coming?"
Stiles asked her and she nodded.
"I think I should. Might feel something."
They all thanked and said goodbye to Stilinski before heading out.
"That dress," Stiles suddenly said, looking at Lydia, "you really think that could be something?"
She shrugged,
"I'm sure it's nothing."
He nodded and got into his jeep. Lydia called shotgun and sat next to him. Scott didn't look very happy sitting in the back. Stiles waved at him through his mirror but Scott didn't smile.
Stiles laughed to himself and started the car. He reversed and saw Scott try calling Deaton again. He was frowning. Scott tried a couple more times as they drove along but no answer.
"Deaton's not answering."
"I'm sure he just misplaced his phone," Lydia said and they continued driving to the vet's.
Sam and Dean sat at the small restaurant diner and enjoyed some well-deserved food. Dean dug into his burger and Sam was about to start his own when his phone rang. He frowned, who would be calling them now? Everyone knew they were on a case. He didn't recognise the number,
"Hello, Agent Robin speaking."
"Yes. I'm afraid something's happened…We might need your help."
That they would admit that much. Must be bad.
"What is it?"
"It's the girl, she's missing."
Scott tapped the dashboard nervously,
"I don't like it," he said, "The Doc should have answered by now." He said, dialing in his number for the six-time already,
"Yeah, me neither," said Stiles, "but there's nothing we can do but wait."
"I don't think so," said Scott and opened the car door,
"Hey!" Stiles shouted after him as Scott left the parked jeep and a second behind him Lydia.
"Lydia!"
He scolded her for following but they continued going, ignored him. Scott was almost at the door when Stiles sighed and got out of the car, seeing no other option than following them. He shut the door behind him and jogged after him.
Stiles caught up with them just as Scott banged on the door,
"Doc!" He shouted and Stiles looked around him, hoping no one who wasn't friendly had heard. There was no reply. Scott knocked again, still nothing.
"What do we go?" asked Scott, looking to Stiles for answers. As usual.
"Knock again?" Stiles suggested. Not very helpful. As usual.
Just as he was about to knock again the door opened, fast. Stiles, Scott, Stiles and Lydia jumped in fright, Scott's hand hanging lamely in the air, ready to knock on a door that was no longer there. The doc had ripped the door open suddenly and his head pooped out, looking around frantically before pulling the trio inside and locking the door behind them. He turned back to them, that fear still in his eyes and Stiles noticed the dark red area on the doc's forehead.
"What's going on?"
Lydia asked seeing his near manic expression.
"What happened?" asked Scott, staring at the Doc's bloodied temples, "Are you okay?"
The doc sighed, rubbing his eyes and wincing.
"I'd be better just showed you."
The doc walked further into the room limping a little and turning on more lights. The three friends followed him in and gasped at what they saw.
"Oh my god." Said Stiles, his eyes roaming frantically around the trashed room.
"What happened here?" Lydia asked, staring at the shattered pots and claw marks decorating the once perfectly white walls, now the walls were splattered with blood and black goo. There were three long claw marks going down the length of a wall and the windows were all shattered in. It looked like a violent murder had taken place here, or a bloody animal rampage.
"Well," the Doc said, sighing as he leaned against the counter. "The body was brought in here for me to inspect since everyone else who'd examined the body had no idea what had happened to it or..." He explained, pulling out a brown file. "What that black stuff oozing from the body was."
He opens the file and placed it on the counter, pulling out pictures from inside it. Stiles and Scott moved closer to get a better look at it, they recognized it as the little-murdered girl. They looked away at the gruesome picture of her decapitated head tilted upwards, and black goo oozing out of her open mouth. Her eyes were open and they almost seemed afraid.
Lydia stayed behind and closed her eyes. She searched with her mind through the energy flows in the room. They felt dim and tainted. The feeling of death. She felt the light energy flowing from the four of them but only in the corner of her mind. The death was strong here, all around.
But there was something else. She moved her senses, blocking everything else out. There. A dim flicker. It was coming from the goo.
"I have those pictures but the body itself is gone."
Lydia lost the trail and opened her eyes wide in shock.
"Gone?" Stiles and Scott exclaimed in horror.
"Gone?" Sam and Dean asked in utter surprise. The officer who greeted them yesterday nodded sadly and embarrassed.
After the phone call Sam had received they'd come immediately and it was true. The body was gone. How on earth did they manage to lose a body? And just before they could get a look at it. That seemed a bit too big of a coincidence to Dean.
"Yes," the officer said, "I regret to say we just got a call, reporting the body gone. I called you straight after that."
He said to Sam. The brothers shared a concerned look.
"What do you think happened to it? What would someone want with a dead body?"
Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. The officer shrugged hopelessly.
"I couldn't tell you. Perhaps it was the murder, if it was a man, stealing his prize kill back. Like hanging a moose in your living room."
Sam had always hated people who did that.
"Yeah maybe," Dean said, "where did you say her body went missing from, the morgue?"
Dean asked but the officer shook his head. His curls bounced along with the movement.
"No, they ran the autopsy at the morgue, well most of it but they couldn't explain it so they sent it to someone who has a little more experience with the strange and unexplainable. He's helped out a couple times in the past, Doctor Deaton."
"They couldn't explain it? What does that mean?"
Dean asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. The officer reached behind him and searched for a while before pulling out a brown folder. The date was written in the corner and the case as a large title on the front.
He flipped it open and looked through the papers. He nodded satisfied and handed it to them closed.
"Look at these and I think you'll know what they meant. Ask the doctor yourself after what he's found." He explained and scribbled an address on a pink sticky note. He handed it to Sam.
"That his address and where the body was seen last."
"How can it be gone?" Lydia asked, approaching them.
"I... I don't know. These pictures are all that's left along with the trashed room and the goo on the walls."
He said hopelessly, leaning heavily on the counter. He gestured at the wall that the black goo almost completely covered. Stiles winched at the sight.
"I don't we're dealing with just a werewolf anymore," Stiles said and Scott agreed.
"For all we know, she might have been the monster." Deaton said, "And someone killed it before it could get to us." They considered the theory, maybe it wasn't as simple as it seemed. Witch was worrying since so far it had been anything but simple.
"But why a seven-year-old girl?" Lydia asked, examining the table in the centre of the room where she guessed the girl had lain.
"And why the decapitation and leaving the body," Stiles added and Deaton shrugged, lost.
"And why did that black stuff start oozing out of her after her death?"
He asked in disbelief and exhaustion. The three friends' eyes widened.
"All this black goo came from her?" Scott asked. How on earth did that little girl produce so much of this stuff. There was more in this room then there would have been blood in her body.
Deaton nodded, sadly.
"Yes. It wasn't so bad at first. It dripped from the neck but then it came pouring out, pushing its way up her body and out, forcing her neck to open but there was no blood, only black. But even then…It must have exploded out of her when whatever took her was here."
"OMG." Stiles said in disgust and horror. Scott and Lydia shared his view.
"I tested some of the stuff and looked at it more closely under the microscope. It's mainly Sulphur and rubber and…"
He mentioned a couple other substances but they escaped Lydia's attention as she walked closer to the blackened wall. She didn't understand. There was an energy coming of it and it wasn't electric. How could that be?
"I can't explain it, but something about it, the way it react to certain chemicals and temperatures, it's almost like it pulls away. I…I think it's alive. Or conscious at least."
"Alive?"
Scott and Stiles asked in horror, stepping away from it as much as they could. Lydia's eyes widened but she forced herself to concentrate. She tried finding for that thread again. Alive, alive. It was alive. She found it, even fainter then before. Whatever life it had, it was slipping away. She grabbed it and clung on to it. The thread squirmed in her grip and she clamped her eyes closed.
"Lydia?" She heard someone, maybe Stiles say in warning and worry but she pushed the voice away. She listened to the goo. It suddenly lurched and squirmed, its life force using all its power to get away from her but she gritted her teeth and held on tighter.
A monster. This goo was part of a terrible monster. It was like its blood. She could feel the loose connection between it and the monster. But the monster was too far gone, the 'blood' would die soon. She let go.
She gasped as she felt herself be released and stepped back. Stiles was there in front of her, his back to the goo.
"Lydia?" he asked, holding her face in his hand. He looked so cute when he was worried she thought. "Lydia, are you okay?"
She nodded.
"Yes. But step back."
"What?"
"Step back from the blood."
"What blood?"
He asked as she dragged him and herself away.
"That's what it is."
She said and he frowned,
"Lydia, that doesn't make any sense."
But Lydia turned to Deaton and Scott.
"Don't touch it!" She warned. They did as told, going nowhere near it. Deaton stepped away from the vail he had of it and retreated to the door. She finally explained to everyone.
"I could feel it. It is alive but dying. It's the blood of the monster but it got to the girl. It touched her and entered her system, once it did that it corrupted all the red blood cells, turning them black."
"But the goo, it didn't contain and iron."
She shook her head,
"This isn't human or animal blood, it's something completely different."
"Which makes it even more dangerous."
Stiles finished and Deaton sagged into his chair. Scott, Stiles and Lydia all shared a worried glance. Just what where they up against? For a moment they just let Deaton sit there, his head in his hands but Lydia had a better idea. She walked over into the back room and came back with three brooms, a bucket and other cleaning supplies. She tossed each of the boys a brush and pulled on some plastic gloves.
The three of them spend the next 20 minutes clearing up the place in complete silence. They were all too nervous and dreading what was to come to talk. Making sure she didn't touch any of the goo, not even with the gloves Lydia did her best to get the stuff of the wall. It still left a dark mark on the wall to remind them all of it.
Sam and Dean followed the simple directions given to them by the officer and drove through the town. As Dean drove Sam opened the file and looked at some of the newest pictures. His eyes widened and eyebrows shot up,
"Yeah, definitely not werewolves." He said and Dean glanced over at the picture. The girl was laid out on a gray table, a white sheet covering her upper body up to the chest. From her neck some sort of black, thick looking liquid was pouring out, it puddled around her. Dean grimaced and turned his attention back on the road.
"But I think I might have an idea of what it is."
Sam said and Dean looked to him eagerly.
"Really? What?"
"I can't remember just now, all these names sort of…Blend after a while. I'll look at it again."
He said frustrated. He should have brought his books along.
"Well, do you remember what it looked like?"
Dean pushed and Sam grunted as he thought about it, trying to recall all those shapes and figures.
"Um, it's similar to the Sphinx I think…"
"And…"
"They're big in Persian mythology I think. And the way it kills, I thought of it because it seems almost identical."
"What? This monster decapitates its victims and black goo starts squirting out of them in buckets?"
"Yes…And no. There's something else, something I'm forgetting."
Sam said worried and Dean gave up.
"Alright, we'll find out what it is later. For now, let's have a chat with Doctor Deaton."
Dean said and pushed the car to go faster.
