Lord I'm one
Lord I'm two
Lord I'm three
Lord I'm four
Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
December 12, 1998
Bobby
You don't know me, but I see you. I also see the Winchesters. You'll be receiving emails from me periodically and it's important that you pass the information on to them. I know that both you and they will be sceptical at first, but I'll prove my worth before long.
There's no point trying to trace this email address; all you'll get is a nasty headache and a renewed desire to curse John Winchester – after all if the man would just bite the bullet and join the rest of the world in the technological age, I could email him directly.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
February 22, 1999
Bobby
There's a poltergeist in Lincoln, Idaho. The Winchesters will stumble across it by accident. Warn them that the second floor is rotten almost all the way through. Placing the hex bags in just the first-floor corners will do it, no matter how much John bitches about it not being the proper procedure.
I'll bet you two bottles of single malt that John ignores you, so you'd better tell Dean to stock up on the good painkillers. John's broken ankle will make both of them miserable as sin until it heals otherwise.
Hope your headache from last time didn't last more than a week. I did warn you.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
March 4, 1999
Bobby
The ghoul in Hood River, Oregon isn't a ghoul. It's some twisted necrophiliac dude, and the Winchesters are going to get themselves arrested,
Tell John to hold back for just an hour by the Idlewild Cemetery, and he'll see the necro freak drive in. He's got a white panel van.
You owe me two bottles of single malt. I'll collect one day.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
May 16, 1999
Bobby
Get your old white ass to Shreveport Louisiana as fast as you can. You'll find Dean and John holed up in an abandoned house near the southern city limits. They'll be out of food, meds, dressings, and patience. Hell, they'll be out of everything but beer.
Remind Dean that beer isn't one of the food groups. The ladies wont flock to him if he's rocking the manorexic look.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
November 8, 1999
Bobby
Austin, Texas. In just over three weeks some weird-ass shit is going to go down. It's a shapeshifter. Send the Winchesters down now. As long as they get there before November 29, they'll be able to catch the thing as it sets up home in a disused sewer under the high school. Tell them to buy a cheap video camera and view the thing through that. The eyes will glow silver.
Tell John to quit bitching about the expense; it's not like he earned the money himself. What his beef is with spending money on anything other than ammo, food or motels with stolen credit cards is baffling to me.
Silver will waste the shifter.
Tell Dean to watch his footing. If he gets that slimy crap on his new boots they'll stain, and he'll literally never quit bitching about that. Literally never.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
April 9, 2000
Bobby
There's a new ammo dealer in Jasper, Arkansas who claims he'll make bullets out of anything you want. Just thought it'd be a good contact for you all.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
June 3, 2000
Bobby
Werewolf. Eufaula, Oklahoma. It's a fucking Kindergarten teacher, Bobby! If they get there before the next full moon they'll save the seven kids who will go out on a hayride with the bitch.
Tell Dean the scar isn't his fault. Tell John he wasn't that pretty anyway, and he should've damn well ducked when Dean told him.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
October 12, 2000
Bobby
Go to the doctor. Go today. It's still treatable now, but you leave it another month and you're in a world of trouble.
Sunscreen isn't just for little girls.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
January 27, 2001
Bobby
Send the Winchesters to Brownville, Nebraska. There's a coven of witches out there, pretending to be soccer mom types. The leader of the coven Is Claire Denver, and she has a genuine Grimoire, but the real problem is she's got demon backing. A blessed Iron round to the forehead will take her out. The others will be powerless once she's gone. John can scare them straight. That something he's good at.
Tell Dean it's ok. The woman is so far gone she's half demon already. Just because they're technically human, doesn't make the hunt wrong. Tell John to keep his away from the bars that night. There's trouble and then there's drunk and hurting Dean trouble no one wants to see what happens if John lets him go to the bar.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
June 19, 2001
Bobby
These emails may get even spottier and shorter that they've been already. I've got stuff going on and can't always get computer time when I want to.
Rest assured, when it's important I'll make sure the message gets to you.
Take the Grimoire to The Assembly House in Ely, Minnesota. They'll know you're coming. They're trustworthy and can probably help you plenty in the future. Fiona's got some research volumes you'd love.
Until the next time.
SeerWitch
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Finally, he was here.
Sam had waited a long time, it seemed, though some of it had almost flown by, with The Assembly. It had been necessary to wait, until he was old enough and, he was sure, until Stef and the others were satisfied that he was in control of his abilities, rather than the other way around.
But now he was here, in the Marines. Not yet fully-fledged, still a 'maggot' in boot camp, but well on his way.
He lay on his bunk, eyes closed, feigning sleep. It was still early; early enough in the morning that it was still dark outside, but Sam knew that in a few minutes Drill Instructor Ermey would be storming into the barracks, shouting at the platoon to "Get your maggoty asses off those bunks!" Until then, he had a few moments to think, a short time to order his mind, and prepare for another day of training. He had expected to have some doubts, at first; second thoughts about joining up. But instead he had felt like he was home, like he was at last where he was meant to be.
Now six weeks in, day T-45, he knew that unlike his fellow recruits, most of the training had been second nature for him. John had run the Winchester family like a Marine's platoon, so many aspects of Boot Camp had been like being thirteen again.
Maintaining hygiene? –Simple. Field stripping a rifle (not a gun, mustn't call it that)? –Not a problem; hunting may not require a rifle much, but they used shotguns and handguns often enough, and John kept a rifle, all of which Sam and Dean were expected to keep clean, oiled and in perfect order at all times. Physical Training? – Sam was relieved that he had insisted on keeping up with his old routines while he was with The Assembly, it had proved to be more than worth it. His only difficulty with current training was that it turned out that John's attitude to his youngest son's pace over a distance run, was echoed by Instructors at Boot Camp. But Sam had overcome that before and was managing to cope with it again.
Hand-to-hand combat, knife work, first aid, protocol, military history, marksmanship; all standard fare for John Winchester's sons. At times, Sam even had to pretend to find a drill difficult, just to avoid unwanted attention. He had no wish to explain to an officer why he already knew how to throw a knife accurately at that range. There had been one close call, during the second week, when an officer, observing the platoon stripping rifles, had asked Sam's name; "Winchester, huh? I served with a Winchester in 'Nam, good man. Your daddy serve, son?" Sam had told him his father had been a teacher, and the officer had lost interest and moved on.
Close order drill had been a new experience, but being shouted at, ordered about, and being referred to with various insults; this was old news to Sam. Indeed, now he finally understood where John had learnt not only his go-to insults, but his whole parenting rulebook.
In fact, the most distressing part of the whole experience, so far, had been losing his hair to the barber's floor. Sam corrected himself; one of the most distressing parts. The general attitude towards recruits, the suppression of individuality, that was exercised and expected, went against the grain for Sam – especially after his years with The Assembly, where their differences were their strength. He couldn't help empathising with a comrade who was homesick, or one who missed listening to his favourite music, but this was something he had to learn to hide. Also, referring to himself as "This recruit" still felt vaguely ridiculous. Ironically, Sam felt grateful to his dad for preparing him, however unknowingly, for this world.
The only other difficulty was also one he had been inadvertently trained for; the subject of his sexuality. "Don't ask, don't tell" was the official policy, and to Sam that meant -don't ask anyone for anything, and no matter what, -don't tell anyone you're gay.
One good thing about Boot Camp; he was too busy, and too tired to show any interest in another man anyway, let alone to make any attempt at approaching anyone. Still, it was best to be cautious, to keep his eyes on the wall when showering, and to bite his lip on occasion, rather than rising to the bait. "You a queer-boy, is that it son?" Drill Instructor Ermey had asked, when Sam had held back in MCMAP (Martial Arts) training. "Would you rather be fucking him, than throwing him?" In fact, Sam had been trying very hard not to break the recruit's arm, and to appear more of a novice than he really was. It had taken some effort not to reply; "Sir, this recruit prefers blondes, sir" or, "Sir, I doubt he could take what this recruit has, sir" another thing to thank John Winchester for, -Sam knew better than to respond to this sort of berating.
Once more he wondered if John considered himself dead, as far as the military was concerned, and had taken the old Marine Corps Cadence to heart:
If I die in the combat zone
Box me up and ship me home
Pin my medals upon my chest
Tell my ma I done my best
Bury my body six foot down
Till you hear it hit the ground
When it hits the bottom you'll hear me shout;
"I wanna be a Drill Instructor!"
"I wanna cut off all o'my hair!"
"I wanna be a Drill Instructor!"
"I'm gonna wear my Smokey Bear!"
Certainly, in Sam's opinion, Corporal John Winchester had indeed become a Drill Instructor, dead or not. He may have been "a good man" in Vietnam, and an exemplary marine, but he'd never been much of a father, not to him, and probably not for Dean.
In the dark of the barracks, he felt the change in the air as Ermey opened the door, preparing to wake his recruits. Sam smiled to himself. They'd be on the rifle range today. Not that they'd been told this, he just knew.
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Day T-69, and Sam was taking the opportunity, whilst the other recruits were all otherwise occupied, to get online as Seer-Witch, and email Bobby. It was no surprise to him when the Colonel walked in; indeed, he'd been expecting this 'chance encounter' for some time and had thought it would happen sooner. Once he was sure the officer had assumed he'd been noticed, Sam quickly got to his feet, straight to attention.
"At ease, Marine." –Sam relaxed. "Please, sit down. I'm Colonel O'Neill."
"Yessir." Sam sat, and did his best to appear puzzled. It wouldn't be a good idea to allow O'Neill to know he'd been expected, or that Sam knew he'd been observing this recruit's progress. This was an important junction in the tracks, and Sam had already decided which direction to take, how he would respond to the Colonel's offer, once it came.
"It's Family Day." The Colonel stated. Sam nodded. "You've no-one here to see you?"
Sam admitted he had not. He knew the Colonel was looking for unmarried men, recruits with little to no family.
"Not even a girlfriend?" -A shake of the head. "Got someone to tell though, that you're about to graduate...?" O'Neill gestured towards the computer screen, not that he could see it at that angle, but he must have recognised, as he came in, that Sam was writing an email.
"A family friend, sir," -The Colonel seemed satisfied to leave it at that.
"You're graduating as Private First Class, I see. Been a Squad Leader all through Boot, top marks in marksmanship, MCMAP, various other skills... -Hell, top of the class almost across the board."
Sam said nothing. He knew better than to brag, or show too much pride.
"Son, you heard what happened in New York? The World Trade Centre?"
"Of course, sir."
"The President's declared a 'War on terrorism'. The top brass want action, and it's the Marines who're expected to step up." O'Neill took a chair, sat down next to Sam, and leaned in conspiratorially. "I've been tasked with setting up a special team. I've got a few veterans, guys who know their stuff, have seen some action. But I want the bulk of the group to be new recruits, -top class only, but without the habits acquired in the field. You get me?"
You want your own private army.
"I think so, sir."
"How would you like a promotion, to say, Sergeant? Maybe even Gunnery Sergeant? That'd take your pay grade up to E-5, E-7…" The Colonel looked at Sam expectantly.
Fuck you, 'Corporal John Winchester', I outrank you.
"I… I don't know what to say, sir."
"Of course that'd be after further training, a couple of months at least. During which you'd be assigned to a squad, expected to gel as a team, ecksetera… You interested, Winchester?"
"I believe I am sir."
"Good. We'll be on the books as a normal Company, part of a standard Battalion. But operations will be need-to-know, strictly off-record. We're planning on hitting these A-rabs where it hurts, right in their backyard."
"Yes sir."
Colonel O'Neill went on to explain where Sam was to report, who to, and he reiterated the need to keep things 'quiet like'.
"So I'll see you after your ten days, Winchester."
"Sir?"
"Your leave, Private. After graduation."
"Sir."
"Hoo-rah, Marine"
"Hoo-rah, sir"
And so it begins… Thought Sam.
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Ten days leave. Ten days in which a newly made Marine was supposed to go back to his family, rest, and hopefully pine for the Corps. There was no way Sam was going back to John and Dean. He had considered visiting Bobby, but only briefly. He knew that to do so, would ruin everything he had worked so hard to accomplish. But there was a part of him that wanted John to know, to hear from his old friend that Sam had graduated, was now a Marine. 'PFC Sam Winchester.' It was strange to see that written down, now that he looked at it, on his papers which also ordered him to report for duty, after leave, to Fox Company, under Colonel O'Neill.
Instead, Sam was headed back to Ely. As the bus rolled to a stop in the middle of town, he folded the papers, put them in his pocket. No rest for him, not yet. He had work to do.
No rest for the wicked, he thought, nor for those with wicked in them.
Once off the bus, he looked around, expecting to see Mona waiting for him, or maybe Stef. Instead he saw, standing off to one side, away from the people greeting family, friends and loved ones, Amanda, looking tired but determined. He marched over to meet her. Still in full uniform, he blushed a little, as he realised how they must look to any onlookers; like a soldier coming home to his sweetheart. Still, it made for a good cover for what they really were; a man with demon blood in his veins, meeting the woman who was helping him cleanse himself.
It was a short drive back to Amanda's place, where he'd be staying for the next week or so. She was quiet during the drive, only once commenting on his uniform, about how smart he looked. Once they had got to her house, and he had unpacked and changed into civilian clothes, Amanda asked him about his hair; "Do you have to keep it high and tight?"
"No, I can grow it a little. As long as it stays short of the collar."
"Good, because we'll need another tattoo up there, and 'invisible' or not, it'll show where the hair can't grow."
With that, they began, returning once more to the same routine, bit by bit, inch by inch, isolating the demon blood, and driving it towards his left arm. The process was slow and tiring for both of them, and yet, when the time came for him to leave Ely once more, Sam felt like it had only been a day or two.
"Well, we've driven it all into your arm, now." -Said an exhausted Amanda, as she and Sam waited together for the bus. "You should be able to continue on your own, from here."
He wondered how much she meant isolating the blood, and how much she meant this journey, or his life.
"I hope so," he said, "I can contact you, if I have any problems?"
"You can," Amanda replied. "But you won't."
The bus arrived, and Sam left Ely once more, perhaps forever.
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On arriving at his new base, at an undisclosed and relatively secret location, PFC Winchester reported to Second Lieutenant Winters, who would be in charge of training the recruits to 'Black Fox', the newly formed Company. Winters directed Sam to his new barracks, and told him to get squared away, and then be in the briefing room by 1600 hours. It was now 1500. Sam chose a bunk, sorted out his kit, then having most of an hour to kill, headed out to find something to eat. He also wanted to find the other recruits, who presumably were also getting themselves fed, as the barracks room was otherwise empty.
The mess, where the Marines had chow, was small, meant to serve only Fox Company. This was intentional, as Colonel O'Neill didn't want his new men mixing with 'ordinary' Marines. As such, it didn't take Sam long to distinguish between the newbies, like himself, and the few veterans transferred to the company. Sensing an opportunity to play advocate, he deliberately sat himself in the, albeit small, gap between the youngsters and the more experienced men.
Unusually quiet, for a group of Marines. Time to change that.
Sam gently nudged the tray of the Corporal opposite him. "This food as good as it was in Boot, Corporal?" he said, his voice seeming extra loud in the tense silence.
"No way, boy." Was the reply; "It's worse. Welcome to the Marine Corps."
In the silence that followed, Sam almost expected to see tumbleweed rolling across the room. But after a second or two, that felt like hours, the Private next to him burst into a nervous, high pitched giggle, and another man, a veteran by the looks of him, snorted so hard that water flew out his nose.
"Oh great," the Corporal said, "we've got a giggler, and a fire hose."
The man next to the snorter spoke up; "That's SERGEANT Fire Hose, to you, Corporal."
At this the room filled with laughter, and finally the new men of Black Fox started to talk. What conversation there was, was brief, and mainly concerned where each man had trained, and where the older men had served.
Soon enough it was time for them to head to the briefing room. There they were met by Lt Winters, who read out platoon assignments, and named the platoon leaders. He then introduced Colonel O'Neill, who stood in front of the men looking like he'd just won the lottery and announced; "Welcome to Black Fox. Over the next two months, you will be trained to the highest standards in the Marine Corps, if not in the world. You will be trained with the sole purpose of taking the war on terror, to the doorstep of the terrorists. Within your platoon, within your squads, -once training is complete- rank will become almost irrelevant. In the field you will be one entity, referring to rank only as a means of identification, deferring instead to the foremost expert, relevant to the mission at hand. To that end, you will each be expected to specialize in at least two disciplines and be proficient in many more. Upon completion of this training, each of you will receive promotion by a rank or two, so that the least of you will be a Sergeant. This is to ensure that when you are in the field, on mission, you have authority over men from any other unit you may come into contact with. This Fox Company will lead, gentlemen, from the front, and if need be, by the nose."
As it turned out, Sam (Usually called simply 'Winchester') found himself in a platoon with 'Fire Hose' and in a squad with 'Giggler' and the Corporal he'd first spoken to, a man called Walter Stone, who everyone decided to call 'Mitty'. Such is the wit of the average Marine.
It wasn't until Black Fox training was over and they were on liberty before deployment that Sam finally encountered something he found so challenging he wasn't sure he could do it. With the nature of the missions they would be sent on, the requirement was that each man write a last letter (or letters) to their family, which would be hand delivered in the event of them being notified of the death of their son/brother/husband/boyfriend/father. Sam stressed and struggled over his for days on end before Carson finally got fed up with him staring at blank sheets of paper and smacked him around the back of the head.
"Fuck sake, Winchester. Just get drunk and write." It was either brilliant, or the worst advice he'd ever had, but nothing he'd tried before had worked for him, so he gave it a go. He drank far more than was wise, then grabbed a pen and wrote two letters.
Dad
It must be weird to be getting a letter from me after all these years, and maybe you didn't get any further than checking the signature before chucking this out, but just in case you're still reading, I guess I should let you know why you're getting this one.
I joined the Marine Corps. I heard from you for the first fifteen years of my life about how I'd never even make it through boot camp, how I'd crumble under the pressure, how I couldn't obey an order if my life depended on it, and it would in the Marines. Even more than that, I heard about how no faggot would ever last five minutes in the Marines. How mincing fairies couldn't make it in the military. How a cocksucker would fail out in the first week of Boot Camp.
Well this cock-sucking fairy faggot has proved you wrong.
Boot Camp was piss easy. At least that's one thing you can congratulate yourself on. What passed for my childhood was worse than US Marine Corps Boot Camp. Well done.
I'm sure you're not that interested, but after I left you and Dean, I found some people who helped me. They kept me safe and well fed and clothed. They encouraged me to continue doing well at school – they were amazed by my straight A record considering how many schools you dragged me through – and I graduated top of my class. I could have gone to any college I chose, but I wanted to prove you wrong. I wanted to one day walk up to you in my uniform – outranking you – and maybe finally see something that approached pride in your face, however begrudging. But I guess if you're reading this, that never happened because this latter will only reach you if I die in action.
This letter probably reads like I hate you. I don't. It probably reads like I don't respect you. I do. It probably reads like I don't love you. I do.
I love you, dad, but I could never understand why you didn't love me.
I know I was never fast enough, strong enough, Dean enough for you, but couldn't you just have loved me for being Sam? Apparently not, so I'm sorry I couldn't give you that.
I'm not sorry that I left though. It was the best decision I ever made. For all of us I suspect. I no longer had to try and fail daily to please you, or to hear a daily barrage of homophobic slurs. You no longer had to deal with the difficult son and never had to try and beat the queer out of me (wouldn't have worked, by the way – even with Don't ask Don't tell, I still managed to stay as queer as a three-dollar bill.)
I always wondered actually – did you always know I was gay? Was that what all the bigoted language was about? A misguided attempt to scare me straight? Guess I'll never know now, but I was always curious about that.
I didn't plan on this letter being so bitter, but apparently that's what I needed to tell you before I die, so there it is. At least it's longer than the last letter.
I hope you stay safe. I hope you find the thing that killed Mom and destroy it. I hope you find a way to be happy again one day. I hope that maybe now you can find something about me to be proud of. Because I did make it, dad. And I out-rank you already, not even a year in.
Tell Bobby I miss him. I'll write a letter for Dean too, so you don't need to tell him anything from me. But look after him, Dad. He'd run barefoot across broken glass into a burning house for you. You owe him the same in return.
Despite everything, I want you to know that the last thing I said to you was I love you, so there it is. I do.
See you on the other side, maybe.
Your youngest son,
Sam.
Dean,
I couldn't stay. It was killing me a little bit more every day. It wasn't so bad before the change. That's what I called it to myself after you started avoiding me. After you started going out of your way to never sit too close. To never touch me if you could help it. To keep eye contact at a minimum. But after that I couldn't keep going through dad's private boot camp and be so lonely along with it. At the time, I couldn't work out what I'd done wrong to make you distance yourself from me like that. I used to lie awake at night, frantically searching my memory for what I'd done to make you not love me anymore, so I could fix it, say sorry. I know now. It's because you'd worked out I'm gay. I suppose I should just be grateful that you never snitched on me to dad about it.
If there's one thing in this world I regret, it's that you bought into dad's homophobia bullshit and followed his 'burn in hell, faggot' mentality. You're better than that, Dean. Don't let that be what you leave behind in this world after you're gone. If you have kids, don't bring them up with that.
In this whole world there's never been anything, and never will be anything that I've ever loved as much as I love you. You were my entire world for the first fifteen years of my life, and even after I left, you were still the only reason the world kept turning. Yes, I know how gay that sounds, but HELLO!? Gay here!
You know by now that I joined the Marine Corps. I showed dad. Proved to him that I could too make it. That a gay man can make it. It was easy, you should try it. You'd do great.
You also know by now that this is my last letter to you because I'm dead.
I promised myself that I'd tell you this next part over my dead body, so I guess promise…
I love you, Dean. Like I said, you're my whole world. Thing is, I mean that to sound exactly as gay as it does. I was fourteen when I realised and accepted that I was gay. That part was easy. Realising and accepting that I was completely in love with my brother was much harder. But I was. I am. Even all these years later, even knowing that you hate me for being gay, doesn't change anything. I'm still completely in love with you. If I could have one perfect wish for my life it would be a life-long loving and romantic relationship with Dean Winchester.
That's probably made you hate me even more, made you even more disgusted with me than you already were. A part of me is sorry for that. Another part of me says it's probably for the best because it will make it much easier for you to shake off any sadness my death has brought you, and I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Dean.
Thank you for looking out for me for fifteen years. Thank you for dressing me, feeding me, wiping my tears when I hurt myself, holding me when I was afraid, making me laugh when I was sad. Thank you for giving me love and support during a childhood filled with disdain and insults. Thank you for being safety in the danger and terror.
I love you.
Sam.
The next morning, Sam woke up to two sealed envelopes addressed to his dad and brother, and the worst hangover he'd ever experienced, but at least he'd done it.
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From: SeerWitch To:BeeSinger
February 12, 2002
Bobby
Yes, I'm still here. I did warn you it might be a while. Send the Winchesters to Holmestown, Georgia. There's a house in Braff Street that's got a Poltergeist. Nothing big yet; it's just getting warmed up, killing the pets and pretty much everything in the yard, but if they exorcize it now, they'll save a twelve year old girl from watching her eight year old little brother choking to death with a lamp cord around his neck. They'll recognise the place by the wasteland that used to be a lawn, and the brand new pet cemetery in the back.
SeerWitch.
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
May 29, 2003
Bobby
Ghost – Willsburg, Virginia. Send them now, as fast as they can get there. It's targeting kids it thinks are 'bad'. Of course its definition of bad includes leaving homework until the last minute, so that pretty much means any kid in town is fair game to this spirit. Burning the bones won't work; the body was already cremated, but the Goodwill in town recently had a huge box of toys donated and the spirit is attached to something in there.
Got to go – Busier than hell.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
October 23, 2003
Bobby
The spirit killing women in Pittsburg isn't a spirit – it's a run-of-the-mill crazy serial killer. John's going to get himself arrested… again… if he insists on sticking his nose in. Head him off will you?
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
April 3, 2004
Bobby
It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could possibly have done to save that girl. She lost her mind only a few hours after she got possessed a couple of months ago, and the demon was walking around in a corpse by the time you even got wind of the case. You've got to let it go, man. I'll say it again to make it clear… Not. Your. Fault.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
December 9, 2004
Send John and Dean to Maresford, Ohio and tell them to take a couple of evergreen wood spears with them. There's a pair of pagan gods moving from town to town each year, killing 'sacrifices'. They'd probably run into this hunt in a few years anyway, but if they deal with them now, that's a good number of lives saved. Tell them to watch out for meadowsweet in the wreathes. That's the way to tell who the gods are after.
Have a good Christmas, Bobby but go steady on the eggnog.
SeerWitch.
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
October12, 2005
Bobby
There's a Woman in White in Jericho, California. Nothing the Winchesters can't handle, but it might be worth warning Dean not to get cocky with the local PD if he doesn't want another lecture from John after he busts him out of jail.
More importantly, John's going to get what he thinks is a lead on the thing that killed his wife. It's not a lead. He's being jerked around, so tell him if he does what he'll want to do – go off and leave Dean to hunt alone while he chases the lead down Dean's going to end up dead within a month.
It's not true I don't think, not that I can see, but nothing short of that is going to keep the stubborn old asshole from running off without his son, and Dean's not going to cope well with that – that means too much booze, too many risks and… well actually, maybe I wasn't far off the truth. Do what you need to to keep the two of them together – feel free to make up a few lies and blame me for them if you need to.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
November 3, 2005
Bobby
There's a wendigo in Lost Creek, Colorado of all places. If the Winchesters get there soon enough they can stop it before it kills again.
Oh… And do me a favour?
Can you check up on a girl called Jessica Lee Moore? She's a student at Stanford, living in Palo Alto. She's not anything to bother John and Dean with, just a human doing the college thing. But could you run out there and get a quick look at her, tell me she's alive and well – not burned to a crisp or eviscerated or something?
Thanks
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
March 14, 2006
Bobby
Dean's going to love this one! A genuine urban legend hunt. In Ankeny, Iowa there's a real live (well dead) Hookman.
The preacher's daughter has a cross made of silver that he's attached to. A quick bit of theft and a salt and burn of the necklace, and they'll be done.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
March 28, 2006.
Oh this isn't good, Bobby. Poltergeist in the Winchester's old house in Lawrence, Kansas. I think we both know how John will take that. You think you can take it? It's not even gotten started yet, so you should be able to get the jump on it (And on Missouri before she calls John in).
Don't be fooled after the first cleansing ritual; it's not gone, just weakened. Don't let that family back in too soon or they'll die.
I've given the heads-up on this one to the group I asked you to send that grimoire to a few years back too. They can help.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
April 2, 2006
Bobby
Have Dean go to Cape Girardeau, Missouri. His ex-girlfriend needs help, although she doesn't know it yet.
It's a possessed truck kind of a deal. Dead racist bigot going after the ones who killed him. Dean's ex's dad is on the hit list.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: JustJustin
June 10, 2006
Hey Justin, it's Sam. I'm going to send you a link in a few minutes to a website that's going to accidently raise a Tulpa in Richardson, Texas.
Can you hack the living shit out of them so the website never gets enough hits for the Tulpa to rise? And maybe someone could go down to the old abandoned house down there and burn the place to the fucking ground before the symbols they've painted on the walls do any real harm?
I'm doing well, but missing all of you. Maybe I can come and see you all the next time I have leave?
Sam x
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
November 14, 2006
Bobby
Some bastard demon has developed a damn demonic virus. If John and Dean head to River Grove, Oregon, they can get there before there are any deaths at all. But they need to be really, REALLY careful on this one. If you can talk them into hazmat suits, they'd be a hell of a lot safer. Getting themselves some CDC credentials would definitely help their case too. Tell them that whatever they do, don't let anyone infected bleed on them, and killing the infected and burning the bodies is their only recourse. It's going to be a real depressing one and I'm sorry as hell to have to put them in the way of it, but the Winchesters are the best, and that's what needed this time.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
April 24, 2007
Bobby
There's a werewolf in Chicago. In a few days he's going to attack a woman called Maddison – a secretary. The werewolf is one of her neighbours, not her ex-boyfriend, no matter what Dean thinks.
SeerWitch
From: SeerWitch To: BeeSinger
March 8, 2007
Bobby
There's a Djinn in Joliet, Illinois. Tell them to stock up on lamb's blood. Got a meeting to get to, so I've got to run.
SeerWitch
S&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&D
Over the course of the next four years, Black Fox's 1st Battalion, of which Sam and 3rd Squad were a part, continued operations in the Middle East, from Afghanistan and Arabia, to Persia and Yemen.
Doing their part in the war on terror, success followed success for the Squad, promotion followed promotion for its members. During a number of missions working as a Battalion, searching for small teams of insurgents who were laying Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), Sam's abilities, and his early training as a hunter led to the 3rd Squad being nicknamed 'The Seekers', due to their extraordinary knack of finding their targets so quickly, whether in mountainous terrain, or the vast emptiness of the desert.
Because of this, it soon became standard practice for 3rd Squad to be called on for missions in remote areas, where a target was difficult to locate, either hidden and/or constantly relocating. So, Sam found himself, though many thousands of miles away, working with similar methods to those of his father and brother, albeit with very different prey. No matter how busy he was, or how often The Seekers were in action, Sam still found the time to send the occasional email, keeping up SeekerWitch's correspondence with Bobby.
In February 2007, the government in Yemen launched a major offensive against the Houthis rebels. After a French student was killed in the ensuing violence, the world's media started to take special notice, and foreign journalists flocked to the area.
One evening towards the end of the month, Sam was looking along the tracks ahead, and saw his next mission; an American Journalist was going to be taken hostage, and Fox Company would be tasked with mounting a rescue.
Sure enough, in the early days of May, 3rd Squad was ordered to report to the now Major Winters and tasked with a new mission.
"We have a US Citizen, a prominent journalist, who was kidnapped in Al Hazm." Major Winters told them. "The group responsible seem to be Houthis, a particularly zealous group, operating without support from the main group of militants. They are hiding our man somewhere in the Al Jawf region, close to the Jordanian border. As you know, the US is not officially involved in this conflict, so this mission is, as usual, strictly top secret. However, the powers that be believe we cannot stand by whilst one of our citizens is used as a bargaining chip. Your task will be to seek out this group, rescue the journalist, and ensure that no-one knows we were ever involved. Act with extreme prejudice, gentlemen; not one of these militants can be left to tell the tale. Understood?" Mitty spoke for all of them;
"Hoo-yah, Major."
"-Dismissed then. Lieutenant, prepare your Squad to move out at 02:00hrs tomorrow."
As the Squad prepared, Sam started to feel uneasy. Something about this felt wrong. He sat on his bunk and closed his eyes, drawing his blank space around him and focusing on his rail tracks. The first station he paused at though was a little murky. It wasn't dark and obscured like Sam had seen before, but there was still something amiss. Like a decision was yet to be made that could shift the course of events. What he could make out in the station scene was something about the journalist, and fire, but he couldn't quite make sense of it. What could the Journalist do to mess this up? His thoughts were interrupted by 'Fire Hose'.
"Message from Winters, one of the kidnappers has been intercepted, he was carrying a CD. Seems they've made a video, announcing that unless demands are met, they're gonna burn this guy alive." He grimaced, "Nasty stuff. Of course, the video won't go out, now, but best you know." With that, he left the Squad to their packing.
"I'd kill myself, before I let them burn me." Carson remarked. Ah, that must be it. If we don't get to him soon enough, he'll burn, or try to commit suicide. All the more reason to act fast. Shouldering his pack, Sam followed his teammates out to the waiting chopper.
"Ok" Mitty announced, once they had been dropped into the Al Jawf area. "This will be our fall-back position. If things go south, we rendezvous here. Stash any unnecessary gear amongst those rocks, we'll leave spare ammo, some rations and water."
"I'll leave my backup radio here too, just in case." Carson remarked, and each man passed him their extra kit, for him to conceal. They wanted to be travelling light, and fast. Mitty opened up a map.
"So, the courier was picked up on this road, travelling west." He pointed to the spot. "I figure they must be holed up east of there, that's dead north from our position. Winchester, you're the bloodhound; you take point." With that, the Squad moved out.
As they moved, Sam felt a growing urgency, something pulling him towards their goal. After an hour's march, he knew he was near. He slowed as he approached the top of a small hill, crouched, motioning for the Squad to halt, and took out his binoculars. Just ahead and below him, was a small stone building. It might have been a farmhouse once but had clearly been abandoned some time ago. Now however, it was occupied once more. In the morning light he could see through a window near the door, two armed men standing by some sort of pressurised gas tank. Guess where they got the idea of burning their hostage, Sam said to himself. While he waited for Mitty to reach his position, Sam observed, and assessed the situation.
"What you got?" Mitty asked.
"Single building; one room. Vehicle parked out back. Four, maybe five men, all inside, I reckon our boy is in there too. Wait –someone's coming out." Sam paused as a man with an automatic rifle stepped out of the house, stepped around the corner, and apparently, decided to take a leak.
"We've got a guy having a piss. Door is unlocked, partly open. If we go now…" Mitty didn't wait for him to finish;
"Let's move, Marines! Giggler; you lead, then Winchester. Once Giggler makes it to the door, you drop the guy outside, and we take them." He said to Sam. Then quietly; "We good?" Sam nodded. "Let's go then!"
Moving fast, but with a practised, quiet gait, Giggler and Sam closed the distance to the building. Before the urinating man could finish and zip up, Joe was at the door. Sam, just short of the house, dropped to one knee, bringing his silenced rifle up. Thunk. Click-click. The man dropped with his hands still at his fly. The rest of the Squad a few yards behind him, Sam nodded at Giggler, who reached for the door.
Alarm bells rang in Sam Winchester's head, along with a brief image of flames, and one thought:
IT'S A TRAP!
The next few seconds seemed to take hours, the scene and Sam's legs moving in slow-motion, like he was underwater. He should have seen this, known it was coming. Springing to his feet, he launched himself towards his friend, Joe Pizarro, the man who giggled in front of a room full of Marines, his nickname forgotten in the moment. "JOE, NO!"
Somewhere inside, someone smiled, and ignited the gas tank.
S&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&DS&D
Sam was cold. That couldn't be a good sign, bearing in mind the average temperature in Yemen was 89 degrees. The air smelled weird too. Not the dry dusty smell he was expecting. This was damp and musty and had a background of old wood. Also, not good signs.
Careful not to move a single muscle or open his eyes so as to give no hint that he was conscious to anyone who might be watching him, he blanked his mind and ran inventory over his body and internal systems. There were no injuries from the explosion, not even a single burn. Ruthlessly crushing the need to grieve over Giggles until later when it was safer, Sam sent out a quick emergency burst of awareness to Stef and Mona, letting them know he was in trouble, and then slowly opened one eye a crack. There was no one in his immediate vicinity, but Sam was pretty sure there were a number of people close by. The characteristic low hum of human mental background activity was low, but present; no more than six people, he estimated. He'd not challenged himself like this in years, not since Stef had him working on his limits and building his psychic awareness. Behind the low hum of active human minds, Sam could sense something else. Something that over the years of slowly herding and warding the demon blood through his system, he recognised immediately. That greasy, oily darkness that could only be the presence of demon blood. The concentration was much higher than Sam was used to, but he didn't think there was enough there to worry about a demon actually being present. Rather, he suspected, there was at least one other person infected with demon blood in the area. Someone just like him. He'd not encountered anyone else who was carrying demon blood before, and a part of him was almost excited over the prospect, The rest of him was behaving much more sensibly and exercising extreme caution.
Having established that he was in no immediate physical danger, Sam sat up and started checking for his concealed weapons, Sidearm; gone. Knife in ankle holster; gone. Knife at belt; gone. Knife hanging between his shoulder blades; gone. Unsurprised as he was, Sam couldn't help a twinge of disappointment. Not least because the knife from between his shoulders was his favourite. The iron and silver blade he'd had since childhood. Someone better be praying I get that back, or I'm really going to make them sorry. He grumbled to himself.
The next step in his process would be to identify his location and the time and date. A simple glance around had informed him he wasn't in Yemen anymore. His best guess for his new locale was either North America or Europe. The old wooden buildings around spoke to the former rather than the latter – European countries favoured stone and brick buildings over wood, Especially in buildings this old. But there was a much simpler way of finding out where he was. I'll just jump on a train real quick. He thought wryly to himself, and he started centring his thoughts and focusing on emptying his mind. Over the years, he'd cut the time for this process down to under a minute, and so he was unsurprised when a moment later he was sat in a carriage, looking out the window. What did surprise him, however, was the murky black he was seeing instead of a station. It wasn't something he'd seen on his own train line in years. The only conclusion he could come to was that whatever person (demon) had shrouded Sam's future on his original line, had finally made their way to Sam's new line and was forcing their agenda onto Sam's life.
Well I've worked too fucking hard for me to just roll over and let that stand. He thought grimly. Looks like it's finally come time to make full use of everything The Assembly helped me train myself with.
Totally stymied in his psychic quest for useful information, Sam pulled himself to his feet and started a bit of physical recon, keeping his ears, eyes and mind wide open for company. If others here (wherever here was) had demon blood in their system, then it was entirely possible that they might have some of the same skill set as Sam. Better to be safe than sorry.
Rounding a corner, Sam almost tripped over a male body about Sam's age, slumped on the ground. He bent down, casting his eyes all around as he did – he was no stranger to ambushes, and this was an ideal setup for one – and checked for a pulse. The guy was alive. A low hum of mental activity, pulse and breathing were all normal. The oily shade of demon blood hanging over the guy wasn't. Still, Sam wasn't going to start making judgements on people based on a little demon blood. The Assembly hadn't judged Sam for it, who was he to not follow their example. Caution is fine, assumption of guilt isn't. He reminded himself. He grasped a shoulder and gave the guy a gentle shake. The guy was white, with not even a tan, scruffy and dirty from lying on the ground, and overall gave off a vibe somewhat similar to Amanda's. Sam chuckled under his breath as he caught the unmistakable whiff of marijuana coming off the guy's clothes. Amanda would not be happy if she knew I equated her hippy vibe with a stoner
The guy started to wake up, so Sam sat back on his heels a little to give the guy some space. In the space of a few seconds, the unconscious guy went from barely blinking to sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide and staring, a look of complete panic coming over his face as he took in his surroundings.
"What?... What the fuck? Where the hell am I?" The guy started mumbling, patting himself down, looking for who knows what as his eyes continued to scan his surroundings blankly. "Great. Not even a spliff on me." He grumbled under his breath, making Sam snort in amusement. At the sound, the guy spun around.
"Hi. I'm Sam." The guy scrambled back away from him, fists clenching ready to defend himself. "Hey, hey. It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. I woke up here just like you did, just around the corner there." The guy unclenched his fists but still looked at Sam warily. "What's your name?" Sam asked him, hoping to get him calm down a little
"Andy. Andy Gallagher."
"Ok, Andy. Like I said, my name's Sam. Sam Winchester. Where are you from, Andy?"
"Guthrie, Oklahoma."
"Is that where you were taken from?"
"I guess. What about you? Where were you taken from?" Andy asked Sam in return, casting his eyes over him and taking in his uniform.
"Yemen." Sam rolled his eyes at himself. A top-secret mission and he just blurts out his previous location to some strange stoner he just woke up in the street. Maybe being on the brink of being blown up rattled his brain loose a bit. Huh. I wonder if he was snatched away from death at the last second too… "Hey, what's the last thing you remember before waking up here?" He asked Andy. The guy snorted.
"My fourth bong load." He replied with a half-smile. Sam chuckled at Andy's stoner attitude. Despite the circumstances he couldn't help liking this Andy dude. Not looking likely that he was snatched away from death. He thought to himself, hauling Andy to his feet.
"We should look around a bit. Work out where we are and if there's anyone else here." He told Andy, glancing around to pick a direction to search first.
"Yeah. And how the hell we get out of here too." Andy agreed.
"That's the eventual goal, yes. But whoever or whatever dragged us here has a reason, and probably doesn't want us to leave, so we need to make sure that we find a safe way of leaving."
"Whatever? What do you mean whatever?" Andy stared at Sam, confused.
"I'm sure you're not going to believe me, but I mean that in this world, humans aren't the only thinking beings that might do something like this. In fact, in my experience they aren't even the first suspects in a situation like this." Sam explained, watching Andy carefully for his reaction.
"Seriously?" Andy threw up his hands. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I discover the guy I'm stuck with in who-the-hell-knows-where is a total fucking Fruit Loop." He grumbled to himself. Sam laughed.
"Hey, I know how it sounds, but bear in mind that one second you were smoking it up, and the next you were here – wherever here is – which isn't exactly in the normal run of things." Sam reminded him.
Andy stopped walking and turned to face Sam, his face serious suddenly.
"Tell me where we are and why I'm here." He demanded suddenly. As he spoke, Sam felt a psychic power brush across the block he held over his mind. He looked at Andy a little closer but said nothing. "Tell me!" Andy demanded again. Another push came against Sam's block, and this time he felt a familiar oily touch along with it. Again, Sam didn't reply. Andy looked scared and confused. Well more so than before. "Tell me now!" Andy tried one more time, and the mental push this time was more like a shove. Ready for it this time, Sam shoved back, flexing his mental block against the intruding power. Andy staggered a little as his psychic shove rebounded on him. "What the…?"
"Yeah, that's not going to work on me." Sam informed him calmly. "I'm guessing that normally using that on someone gets you exactly what you want?" He asked. Andy, pale and shaking now nodded and took a step back.
"Relax, I'm still not going to hurt you. I couldn't have answered your question even if your little psychic push had worked on me, but as long as you don't try that shit on me again, we're still good. Just… mind your manners." Sam told him with a wry grin. Andy relaxed a little. "Tell me about your little Jedi mind trick then." Sam asked him. Andy let out a little giggle with a slightly hysterical edge.
"Yeah ok. So, a while back I started noticing that people would do whatever I told them to, if I used the right tone of voice; if I put the right feeling behind it. I didn't do anything bad with it." He put out his hands in defence. "Just, like, used it to get free stuff and get people off my back, shit like that." Sam nodded in understanding and waved his hand to get Andy to continue. "Yeah, so then it got stronger, and I found I could kind of shove images into other people's heads. Make them see whatever I wanted them to. Like anything I want. It's like bam – people, they see it. This one guy I know, total dick. I use it on him…gay porn. All hours of the day. It's just like, you should've seen the look on his face." And trailed off, chuckling away to himself. Sam couldn't help but join in. There were more than a few homophobic dicks he'd have quite enjoyed doing that to. Not that he'd have given in to the temptation. The Assembly had taught him better than that.
"So, you're totally ok with being a Jedi and controlling people, but when I tell you that there are other creatures out there which might be responsible for us finding ourselves here, and you decide I'm a Fruit Loop?" Sam asked Andy, raising his eyebrows. Andy shrugged.
"Point." He conceded. "But you've got to know how that sounds just out of the blue like that. It didn't work on you, and then you did something to shove it back at me, so does that mean you can do it too?" He wondered. Sam shook his head.
"Not that exactly, no. At least I don't think so, I've never tried." Sam replied. "But there's a lot of other things I can do. Visions of the future and the past, healing, moving stuff, talking with others mind to mind, and finding things." He listed off, making an effort not to sound like he was boasting. "I've spent several years training with people who can do this sort of thing, learning how to use my gifts and use them safely. For me and for everyone else." He fixed Andy with a stern look, making the other guy shift uncomfortably, clearly knowing he'd not been acting responsibly with his own gift. "Come on." Sam waved his arm down an old street. "Let's keep scoping this place out." They started walking again.
From the look of things, they were in a very old, small abandoned town. The buildings were all wooden, the streets unpaved and dotted with weeds here and there. They rounded a corner and up ahead of them they saw another person slumped on the ground and yet another crouched over them. She looked up as she heard their approach.
"Help! You've got to help me. He's unconscious!" She yelled shrilly and Andy and Sam Jogged over. Andy immediately dropped to his knees and began shaking the shoulder of the unconscious man, a tall black guy in army fatigues. Sam stood over them, casting his eyes around for any signs of danger before he engaged. He couldn't see anything, but the oily feeling was stronger now, Sam could only guess that it was the demon blood concentrated in one area. If he and Andy both had it, the odds were good that these two did as well. He reached out to gently grasp the shoulder of the panicking woman and she skittered away from his touch nervously.
"Don't touch me." She demanded, moving a step backwards. Sam raised his hands and took a step back himself.
"It's ok, I won't hurt you." He reassured her. "I'm Sam. Andy here and I found ourselves here just like this guy." He gestured towards the now stirring man on the ground.
"I'm not worried about you hurting me." She replied. "I'm worried that I might hurt you." Her voice trembled. "Bad things happen to people who touch me, and I can't stop it from happening." She broke off sobbing.
"Hey, it's ok." Sam reassured her again. "I won't touch you if that's what you want, but I don't actually think it's possible for you to hurt me." The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. Well you aren't the first to think that and regret it." She replied. Sam changed tack.
"What's your name?" He asked her.
"Lily." She replied, running her hand through her dark blond hair. "You're Sam?" She asked.
"Yes, and that's Andy." Sam told her, pointing down to the man who was now helping the soldier on the ground to sit up. "Shall we find out who this other guy is now?" Sam asked her gently, trying to calm her and redirect her attention towards the man she'd been trying to help. She stepped forward to look at the now conscious man sitting in the street.
"Hey man. You ok? What's your name?" She asked their new companion. He groaned and rubbed his head.
"Jake. Jake Talley." The man replied. "Where the hell are we?" he asked, looking around.
"Where do you last remember being, Private?" Sam asked in a calm but firm tone, knowing instinctively that with this guy, maintaining his dependence on the chain of command would be the best course, at least until the man regained his equilibrium. Jake looked up at Sam, his eyes widening as he recognised a superior in the forces and he scrambled to his feet, swaying a little. He drew himself to attention.
"Sir, Afghanistan, Sir." He replied with a crisp salute. Sam returned it even as Andy and Lily scoffed at them. Sam ignored them. Having an officer present would be reassuring to Jake for the moment, and Sam was happy to give him that until the man could pull himself together at least.
"At ease, Private. I'm just gathering intel. None of us know where here is, and we all woke up on the street just like you. These two are Lily and Andy, civilians, and I'm Lieutenant Sam Winchester, US Marine Corp." Sam relaxed his posture, relieved to see Jake follow suit after a moment's hesitation.
"Is this some kind of exercise, Sir?" Jake asked, not unreasonably. Sam shook his head.
"No. Before I woke up here, the last thing I remember is being about half a second from being swallowed by an explosion." He noted the surprised expressions on all three of his companions. "Ambush during an extraction." He briefly explained. "Andy here last remembers hitting the bong. How about you two?" Sam looked to Lily first for an answer.
"All I remember is going to bed in San Diego, then waking up here." She told them, looking to Jake for his reply.
"Yeah me too. I remember hitting my bunk, and then that's it; I'm in some weird-ass old town." He looked around him. "This definitely isn't Afghanistan." The other three all snorted.
"No shit." Both Lily and Andy replied at once, chuckling a little at their synchronised response.
"We need to complete a recon of the area and find somewhere safe to rest while we work where we are and a safe route out." Sam said, half to himself. Lily looked a little sceptical, but Andy nodded, and Jake snapped back into military mode.
"You want me to go on recon, Sir?" He asked. Sam smiled.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you the first rule, Private?" He asked wryly. Jake chuckled.
"Yeah. Never volunteer." He replied. "But I figure this situation falls outside normal parameters, Sir. I can do a pass around the area and see what there is to see?" He offered again. Sam thought quickly.
"Ok, you do that, but not alone. Andy can go with you?" He phrased it as a question, waiting until Andy agreed before he continued. "Do not engage without backup. With anyone. You see anyone or anything, you yell out and return to base double time, understood?" Andy nodded, serious and focused for once and Jake drew himself to attention once again.
"Sir, yes Sir." He replied. "Um what base though, Sir?" Sam gestured to the building behind him.
"This'll do for now. If we find something more appropriate after your recon, we'll relocate. In the meantime, on your recon, try to pick up anything we can use as weapons; Sturdy wood clubs if there's nothing better, metal, especially iron is ideal. My sidearm and knives are missing, so I'm guessing none of you have any useful weapons on you?" He looked to the others who all shook their heads, Jake looking a little shame-faced for not having checked himself for weapons when he first woke. "It sounds weird, I know, but look for salt too. I'll explain why after you're back, but salt is as important as the weapons." He ignored the baffled looks and waved Jake and Andy off. They took off at a dog trot, starting their recon, and Sam led Lily to the door of the building he's selected as base. The door was locked, but it only took a couple of light shoves with his shoulder to force it open, and he led the way inside.
"Look for a decent sized room with intact walls, floors ceiling and windows." He told Lily. We need a room we can all be safe in while we work this shit out." Andy and Lily nodded in agreement and started looking around what must have been an old house I the abandoned town. The floor creaked under Sam's feet. "Oh, and watch your footing; these old floors aren't going to be too reliable."
They found a suitable room without much trouble and took the few bits of still sturdy furniture in there in case it was needed. Just as they were setting up the chairs they'd found, they heard a noise outside.
"Hello?" A voice was calling out. "Hello? Anyone there? I need help!" The voice belonged to a woman and she sounded scared. Sam looked over at Lily and gestured for her to stay behind him as they walked outside. He opened the door cautiously and there in the street, standing and looking around her in a daze. She looked to be around the same age as the rest of them, but there was something a little different with this one. Where the oily feeling was muted and dull around the others, it was louder and clearer in this woman. It felt almost live a vibration to Sam, it felt like he should be able to hear it, like the buzzing you hear near high powered pylons. Again, he wasn't planning on re-judging the woman, but he was definitely going to be a lot more careful and aware around this one.
"Hi." He spoke calmly and quietly, careful not to escalate the tension. "Are you ok?" She spun around at the sound of his voice, her shoulders sagging in relief at finding someone else.
"Oh my God I'm so glad to see you. I was beginning to think I was all alone here." She rushed over to him, grabbing his hands. The oily black buzzing increased twofold. Sam definitely didn't feel comfortable around this woman. "I'm Eva. What's your name?" She asked him.
"I'm Sam." He replied. He was about to introduce Lily too, when Eva raised her fingers to her temples, rubbing as if she had a headache. Sam could feel the oily back buzzing starting to build, there was no longer any question in his mind. This woman wasn't to be trusted. He prepared himself to ward off a psychic attack, no longer having any attention of introducing Lily. Unfortunately, Lily didn't realise the danger and took a sidestep out from behind Sam.
"Hi." She waved at Eva. "I'm Lily. Are you ok? You got a headache?" Eva dropped her hands and the building of power stopped.
"Hi, Lily. Yes, a bit of a headache, but nothing too bad." She replied with a little smile. She wasn't quick enough to hide the edge of irritation that flashed across her face from Sam though. Rather than forcing a confrontation before he knew more about the woman, Sam pretended to be oblivious.
"There are a couple of others here too. They've just gone to look around the town and see if they can find anything useful." Sam told her, watching carefully for her reaction. A slightly cunning look crossed her face. "Lily and I were just about to go and find a water source if we can."
"Oh, I passed by a well as I was looking for other people." I'll go get us some water." She made as if to leave, but Sam shifted a little, so he was in front of her. "We should all go together. It's not a good idea for any of us to be alone around here." He said reasonably, watching that little flash of irritation crossing Eva's face once again. "Yeah that's probably more sensible." She agreed, turning to Lily. "You ready to go then?" Lily nodded, and they all set out, Sam taking care to walk between the two women, offering as much protection to Lily as he could without making it noticeable.
The trip to the well didn't take long, the water was still good, but they'd need to find a way of storing and carrying it; they couldn't all walk back and forth to the well any time someone was thirsty. By the time they got back to their makeshift base, Jake and Andy had returned. They weren't empty-handed.
"Hey, Sam. Check out our haul!" Andy called out cheerfully as he, Lily and Eva approached. Andy waved his arm over the collection of stuff on the ground between he and Jake. Jake was eyeing Eva with curiosity, Andy hadn't noticed her yet.
"Nice!" Sam replied casually to Andy. "Good work, Private." He added to Jake.
The 'haul' wasn't much to write home about on a normal day, but it was all useful stuff in the current circumstances. A few sturdy chunks of wood for clubs, six iron lengths that looked like they might've been part of some kind of farming equipment, and two heavy sacks filled with what appeared to be salt. The bags were ancient, giving even more evidence that this town had been abandoned a very long time ago. Something tweaked Sam's memory. He stopped for a moment and searched back through his mind, looking at everything he'd seen since his arrival in the town. There! That Bell. We're in Cold Oak. Shit! The realisation came suddenly but offered no real comfort apart from finally knowing where they were. Cold Oak was a legendary haunted town, so haunted that eventually all the inhabitants abandoned it, moving away to escape the horror. Sam was under no illusions that things had improved over the years. They were lucky they'd not run into any trouble yet. By nightfall it was going to be a very different story. Also, with the town being abandoned for so long, there were no decent roads in or out. Getting out of here was going to be a real hike. He heaved a frustrated sigh.
"Alright, everyone. Let's get all of this lot inside, and I'll give you all a debrief." Everyone but Jake looked at him blankly, so he explained in more civilian-friendly language. "I'll fill you all in on what I've managed to put together about our situation, and we'll work out a plan to get out of here alive." That last turn of phrase seemed to put anyone on their guard, looking around subconsciously as they each picked up a part of Jake and Andy's haul and carried it inside.
Once everyone was in the room Lily and Sam had set up, Sam grabbed up one of the sacks of salt and began to pour a barrier around the edge of the room. As the door opened inwards, he opened the door and poured another line of salt across the threshold. Turning to go back into the room, he stopped suddenly in his tracks. The others were all stood staring at him in confusion. He sighed.
"The town we're in is called Cold Oak. I recognised a symbol on a bell out there in the town. So, the good news is that we know where we are, and that we're in the good old U.S. of A. The bad news is much more numerous; Cold Oaks is maybe the most haunted town in the world." He ignored the scoffs and pressed on – he could work on convincing them all when he was done. "That's why it was abandoned. There's no way things have changed over the years, that's not how ghosts work, so we're going to need to be hypervigilant and protect ourselves with salt and iron." Sam ignored the protests and questions that started with that statement and just talked louder over them. "With the town being so old and having been abandoned so long ago, there's not going to be any simple easy way in and out of here. It's going to be a long hike. And that's not the worst of it." Sam took a breath, knowing that the last bit of news wasn't going to go over easily. "The really bad part is that I'm almost a hundred percent sure that we've been brought here by a demon. I don't know what it wants with us, but I know it can't be good." With that, Sam stopped talking and sat down, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come.
It came.
Everyone started talking all at once. Derision, anger, ridicule and accusations all running out on top of each other so that none of it was understandable. Sam let it run its course for a few minutes until they'd gotten the worst of it out of his systems, and then did the only thing he could think of to shock them into silence. Everyone was standing as they argued, so Sam flexed his mental muscles, grabbed psychically at all of the chairs in the room, and lifted them into the air until they were all at eye-level. The sudden silence was somehow louder than the shouting had been. Once he had their attention, he gently lowered all of the chairs and calmly sat down on the nearest one. The others all stood frozen in shock.
"Sorry, guys but I had to get your attention somehow." He apologised. "Now how about we all sit and talk calmly and quietly. I can answer some questions, if you've got them, and we can work together to figure out a plan." Everyone followed his request and sat, some of them trembling a bit. Sam noticed that Eva had wide eyes like the others, but the looks she was giving Sam were assessing rather than fearful. "So, I guess the best place to start is, yes. I did just lift those chairs with my mind. I can do that. Along with a few other things I've learned over the years." He gave Andy a hard look, warning him not to expound on that point. "Now I know that Andy can put thoughts into people's heads and make people do things, and Lily mentioned that bad things happen when people touch her." He offered her a sympathetic look as her eyes filled with tears and she nodded and pressed on. "With there being three of us with extra gifts, I'm willing to bet that Jake and Eva have a little parlour trick each too. Care to fill us in?" Sam looked at each of them expectantly. Jake spoke up first.
"I've got a kind of super strength thing. I lifted a jeep off a soldier when it rolled over him. I passed it off as adrenaline, but then later, completely calm and collected, I bench-pressed 800 pounds without breaking a sweat." The group all looked impressed and Sam nodded.
"That might be useful. Eva? Feel like sharing with the group?" Eva looked down at her hands. I can see things. Visions of people being killed. It's usually a dream, but sometimes I see it when I'm awake too." Again, Sam just calmly nodded, accepting her statement as fact. "Ok. So, all of us have a little something extra. Not, I'm sure, something that falls in the category of shit you guys hear about every day. Then if these things are facts, what makes it so hard for you to grasp that there are other things out there that are real too?" No one had an answer for that.
"Well ok, I can accept that some people are a bit more special than others, but ghosts? Demons? Come on, dude. Seriously?" Andy piped up. Sam grinned at him. It wasn't a cheerful expression.
"Ghosts, demons, werewolves, hellhounds, ghouls… The list goes on and on. If you've heard a story about it, chances are it really does exist." Sam paused and looked up. Waiting for the inevitable question. It always came, whenever this talk was necessary.
"Sir, Can I ask how you know all this then?" There it was.
"It's the family business." He explained simply. "I grew up in it until I left and joined up. There are people who call themselves hunters, who go around the country trying to take out as much of this shit as they can. That's what my family does." Sam ignored the pinch of loneliness and homesickness he felt at that last.
"What's with the salt?" Lily asked bluntly.
"Salt is pure. A lot of these creatures can stand its touch or cross a line of it. Ghosts and demons are on that list. You create a salt barrier and stand inside it; no ghost or demon can reach you." Sam explained simply. "Also, neither one can stand the touch of iron, so we'll each arm ourselves with one of these iron bars Jake and Andy scared up." Sam glanced at the one he'd just picked up. The end was sheared off. "Just tore them out by hand?" He asked Jake, who nodded with a shrug. "Nice!"
"Thank you, Sir." Jake replied.
"I think you can drop the 'Sir' for now, Jake. We're both in the same boat here, and it's not a military exercise." Jake nodded and looked out the window.
"If we're going to have to hike out of here, shouldn't get started while we still have decent daylight?" He asked Sam.
"ordinarily I'd say yes, but first off, I don't think we'd make it back to civilisation before nightfall, and I don't want to meet what's out there in the dark. Secondly, having gone to such trouble bringing us all here like this, I very much doubt the demon that's pulled this off will just willingly let us wander out of here. I think that's the best way to lose one or more of us." The others nodded in understanding, but Eva jumped in.
"You still haven't explained how it is you 'know' it's a 'demon', so how about filling us in on that?" Eva asked, her hostility barely concealed. She didn't need to physically do the air quotes – her tone of voice did it for her. Sam ignored the tone.
"There's a certain feeling that comes off a demon. If you're trained to recognise it, it's a clear signpost. This whole town is buzzing with it." Sam felt a little bad not filling them all in on the demon blood thing, but then they were having enough trouble with what he was already sharing with them. "Now I suggest that our best option is to stick here until tomorrow morning and then, sticking together as a group, we all try to hike out of here with a full day of light to work with." He looked around to see if the others agreed. Surprisingly, Eva looked more than happy with the plan, Jake and Andy looked resigned, but in agreement. Lily was shaking her head.
"Lily?" Sam asked her. "You have a different option?"
"I don't want to stay in a place I don't know, with people I don't know, where I've been placed by someone or something I don't know for any longer than I have to. Especially if it turns out you're not batshit crazy and there are ghosts and demons wrapped up in all this." She stood up abruptly and rushed from the room. "You guys can all sit here like sitting ducks if you want, but I'm walking out of here, right now." She called back over her shoulder as she crossed the salt line. She had one of the iron bars in her hand at least, but Sam knew that she had no chance out there alone if this demon wanted to keep them there. He jumped up.
"You guys stay here. Stick together and stay inside the salt line. I'll bring her back." He instructed as he grabbed the half-sack of salt and an iron bar and followed Lily outside. When he got out to the street, Lily was already out of sight. Sam checked the ground for the most recent footprints and followed them around the side of the building. Lily was headed towards the woodland along the west side of the town. With a groan, Sam began to follow, pulling his mental abilities to the fore and clearing his mind so he could be ready for anything.
In the woods, the oily buzz was thick and heavy. There were more layers to it too. Not just the single demon responsible for the group all being present in the town. Shit shit shit! He swore to himself.
"Lily!" he called out, listening ahead of him for any hint of where she might be. The tracks had been easier to follow in the dusty street, but although they were fainter, he could still follow the signs of her through the brush. She wasn't answering his calls though, and he couldn't hear any disturbance through the brush up ahead. He kept on following the signs of her passing, without any luck for several minutes more, but he was beginning to get suspicious. "Shit. False trail." He groaned out loud and heard a nasty giggle from up ahead. Another sounded to his left and yet a third came from behind him. Great! He thought. What now? He turned slowly, opening up his mind and trying to read what was out there. Definitely a demon of some kind. He confirmed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a child-like figure. Acheri demons. He resisted the urge to spit. He wasn't going to be able to kill them, only fend them off. The only way to get rid of them was to get rid of whoever was summoning and controlling them. Sam gripped the iron bar a little tighter and loosened up his shoulders, ready to fight the Acheri demons off. Slowly he turned around and started walking back towards the town. The Acheri demons closed on him, three of them, like pale skinny children with razor sharp claws. He waited until one came close enough and swung one handed, dropping the half sack of salt to the ground so some spilled out. As his iron bar passed through the demon, making it shriek with anger and pain before dissipating, Sam ducked and grabbed a handful of the salt, flinging it at the next closest demon. It too screeched and dissipated and Sam swung upwards at the last demon as it closed on him with claws outstretched. The iron bar passed through as if through empty air, but the piercing howl as it went proved that Sam had made contact. Suddenly alone in the woods, he snatched the salt sack up again and sprinted back towards town. As he got closer, he could hear screams, female screams coming from behind one of the buildings.
"LILY!" Sam yelled out as he ran, only to skid to a halt as he rounded the corner. It wasn't Lily doing the screaming. It was Eva, and she was pointing up to Lily's body hanging above them. Sam's blood ran cold. Lily had probably never even made it out of the town. While he'd been chasing a false trail through the woods, Lily was being attacked and strung up back here. His shoulders slumped. Jake and Andy were stood either side of Eva, trying to calm and comfort her. "What happened?" Sam asked Jake.
"We were all sitting around, and Eva got a headache. A real bad one that had her grabbing her head. So, we decided to walk her over to the well to get some water, and we found Lily like this." Jake gestured up at the body. Sam sighed.
"We can't just leave her up there like that, but Eva's going to start screaming if she's here to see us cut her down." Sam mused out loud." I don't think we should split up anymore at all. Not for anything. There's no way that Lily managed to climb up there all by herself and anything strong enough to haul her up there is strong enough to take on two of us at a time. We need to keep to the biggest group possible." Jake nodded in agreement. "So, we get Andy to distract Eva over by the well, where we can still see each other, and you and I cut Lily down, ok?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a plan." Jake agreed. "I'll climb up there; I'm the strongest." Sam agreed and walked the few steps over to Eva and Andy.
"Why don't you two go get some water from the well and wait there while we take care of Lily, OK?" He asked them gently, then turned away and walked back to Jake before he had to hear the reply; he was almost positive that Eva had had something to do with this, and he wouldn't be able to hold his temper if he had to hear her false grief. Jake was already climbing up to retrieve Lily's body, so Sam quietly and calmly talked him through the process until Jake and Lily were both back on the ground. They laid her body in the nearest building, on a bed that was barely holding together, and quietly closed the door behind them as they left. Collecting the other two as they passed, the whole group slowly trudged towards their temporary based in silence.
Once they were all inside, Sam checked the salt lines. All complete and good and thick. He slumped in a chair and looked around at the others. They were all in shock and feeling scared. That wasn't going to help them get through this, and Sam needed to get a hold of the situation before it spiralled any further. He let the silence sit for another minute while he gathered his thoughts, and then sat up straighter.
"I'm not going to bad-mouth Lily here – she was scared, and she reacted on her instincts to that fear. What happened to her is awful, and I'm sure that all of us will carry that image for a long time, but we can't let it paralyse us now. Right now, we need to be thinking about how to save ourselves, so we don't go out the same way Lily did." He tried to keep his voice sympathetic and quiet. "It's far too late in the day now for us to walk out of here, and when I went into the woods looking for Lily, I was attacked by three Acheri demons. These are non-solid forms that look like classic horror movie children, but with long claws on their hands. The salt and iron were effective against them though, so that's good news." He shifted and turned to Jake. I figure that we should take turns taking watch while the others sleep. That way we'll all be as well rested as possible when we make our move in the morning." Jake nodded, and Andy jumped in.
"I'll take a shift too, if one of you can just give me a few basics on how to swing an iron bar effectively." Sam was happy to agree to this and then turned to Eva.
"I'm not being sexist here – just getting the guys to take turns. You've been suffering with headaches all day, and we need you as healthy as possible tomorrow so that you can keep up. Ok?" Eva nodded reluctantly. "I think our best bet is for the four of us to keep together at all times. Even if one of us needs the bathroom. I know it's awkward, but from now on if one of us needs to pee, we all need to pee. I guess that makes the fact that there's no food an advantage." He gave a rueful grimace. The others didn't look happy, but at least they weren't arguing.
"We didn't find anything to carry water while we were out looking around, so I guess it's regular group trips to the well." Sam sighed but agreed.
"I guess so. You know, Jake. It occurs to me that you and I have another problem once we get out of this." Jake looked confused. "We're both technically AWOL. Neither one of us can just jump on a commercial flight back to where we got picked up from, and neither one of us can just pop us here in the states when we were last seen with our units on deployment." He watched as realisation dawned across Jake's face. "Let's just step to the side over here and try to work out what the hell to do about that." He turned to the others. "No offense – it's just that even under these circumstances we can't risk telling civilians anything that should be a military secret." The other two gave vague nods, even while Jake looked at him in confusion, knowing what nonsense Sam had just spouted. Sam gave Jake a har look and nodded over to the other side of the room where they could talk without being overheard as long as they kept their voices low. Jake walked over with him.
"Sir, what's this about?" Jake asked quietly the moment they were out of earshot.
"You don't need to 'sir' me anymore Jake, remember?" Sam reminded him. "Now don't look over there, just listen and keep your eyes on me. Look relaxed ok?" Jake gave a tight grin and nodded. "You understand what I was saying about feeling a demon's presence?"
"Not really, but I don't need to understand how a system works to accept the intel." Jake replied. The consummate soldier. Sam rolled his eyes and grinned at him.
"Ok. Well I can feel it in the air, like a static charge when there's a demon present. This place has had a faint buzz around it since I woke up, But every time Eva has one of her headaches, the energy level spikes crazily. Now I'm not outright accusing her of anything, but this is the real reason why I don't want us pairing off. You or I might make it through another attack, but Andy would be a sitting duck, and if Eva's completely innocent here, then she might go the way of Lily next time she gets a headache. If she's not completely innocent, then we've got a whole other problem." He glanced at Jake and saw him fighting to keep his expression neutral.
"You think she's doing something to make the demons come?" Jake asked in a strained voice.
"I think that someone is, and I know that her headaches always come along with an extra side of demon energy. That's as far as I'm willing to go until something undeniable happens." Sam hedged. "So, we need to keep all of us together as much as possible, and anytime her head starts hurting, we need to grow eyes in the back of our heads. Ok?" Sam was relieved when Jake nodded without hesitation. That was one problem handled for now. "We still have that AWOL problem, but we're going to have to shelve it for now. We can't have that eating away at our concentration while we handle all the rest of this shit show. We'll work the rest out after. Alright?" Again, Jake nodded, some of the tension dropping out of his shoulders.
"So, we make it through tonight, and then we've got a long trek tomorrow without food or water. We'd better get several trips to the well in tonight before we sleep, and then get out of here at first light after one more water trip. That's the plan?" Sam nodded. "Then I vote we go get a drink in about an hour, and while we're out there we can show Andy and Eva how to defend themselves if need be."
"Yeah that seems like a decent plan. Try not to get too uptight tonight. We all stick together and keep our heads and we've got a decent chance."
