I open my eyes, and look around me.
For a minute, I forget where I am, and start to panic.
Then it comes back to me. My new friends, the ghost…the bunker….I 'm in my new home.
I look at the cinder walls with more joy than is probably warranted. It's just been so long since I've had a safe place to rest my head.
I bounce out of bed and get dressed. I sigh at my freshly washed clothes. Washed but still pretty tattered. Oh well.
"Excellent." I say, as I walk into the kitchen, and spot Dean frying bacon.
"Morning sunshine. How'd you sleep?" He asks.
"Like a rock" I reply.
"It's nice to have a safe place isn't it? You almost forget what a good nights sleep feels like."
"My thoughts exactly. Want any help?" I offer.
"I've got things pretty much sewn up in here, can you go wake sleeping beauty?"
"Sure thing"
I head down the corridor towards Sam's bedroom.
"Sam?" I knock loudly "Sam breakfast!"
No reply.
After a few more tries, I open the door. His bed is empty.
I dart back to the kitchen, almost sending Dean and his precious plate of eggs flying.
"Watch iiiit. I worked hard on these." he reprimands.
"Yes I know, you are the perfect little house wife" I reply. "Sleeping beauty is not in his bed. Anywhere else he could be?"
"Check the library" Dean suggests.
"M'kay"
I sprint toward where I hope the library is. I've been here a few weeks, but this place still gets me turned around.
"Ahhhh, the gods are with me today." I sing as I enter the library.
"What?" says Sam from somewhere amongst a monumental stack of books.
"I found the library, all by myself." I say a little to proudly.
Sam laughs and stands up, "What's up Mac?"
It takes me a second to reply, as his shirtless torso is a bit distracting.
"Breakfast" I finally manage.
"Sweet. Be there in a few." Sam replies, and disappears back into the middle of his book fortress.
"How long have you been up?" I ask.
"Haven't been down." He replies.
"Good greif?! What are you looking for?"
"Nothing in particular, just, have you seen all these? The Men of Letters have an amazing collection. Its hard to put them down."
"Nerd" I tease, although he certainly doesn't look like a nerd. "C'mon, put the books down for a bit and join the party."
"Fine, fine, I'm coming" he says.
We amble toward the kitchen.
Sam starts to walk faster when he smells the bacon, and I chuckle.
"Finally!" Dean remarks. "What the hell took so long?"
"Oh, you know Sam and his books" I reply.
"Shut up you two." Sam retorts "Lets eat."
...
About half way through breakfast we hear a knock.
Dean and Sam get up and head toward the door, guns drawn, and I follow with my trusty poker.
Dean looks at me quizzically, "Ghosts don't knock..."
I roll my eyes "Just answer the door."
Dean swings the door open, revealing a bedraggled man with brown tufty hair and a tattered tan trench coat.
"Cas!" Dean exclaims, "Where the hell have you been?!"
"Who's Cas?" I whisper to Sam.
"Castiel is part of the family" Sam whispers in my ear, which makes it hard to focus on what Cas and Dean are saying.
"Dean, Sam, I have a case for you."
"Great, whatcha got?" Dean replies cheerfully.
"Come in?" Sam offers.
"No time" declines Cas. "I have to be going. I just brought you this"
He hands a disappointed looking Dean a newspaper with a highlighted article.
"Ok, thanks for the tip" Dean says, and just like that Cas is gone.
"Let me see that" I take the paper out of Dean's hand.
The headline reads: 'TWELVE KILLED, DRAINED OF BLOOD AND SKINNED"
Sam reads over my shoulder.
"Vampires? " He guesses.
"Maybe" I reply "But what is up with the no skin deal?"
"Maybe they sucked a little too hard." Dean grins wickedly.
"Shut up Dean" Sam and I say in unison.
"Well, lets go." I say, picking up my emergency duffle from beside the door.
We jam to a cassette of Metallica on the way to the police station. It's a long drive, but it doesn't seem like it.
We laugh and joke, and even though we are on the way to investigate grisly murders, I feel happy.
When we arrive Dean and Sam put on their game faces and head into the sheriffs station, while I take my laptop and go to the donut shop across the street. A "FREE WI-FI" sign hangs in the window.
I walk to a window seat and begin my investigation. I'd never before heard of a Vampire stripping skin, and I've heard a lot.
As I research, I people watch. In such a small town it's not hard to do both. A young couple holding hands, an old woman standing at a bus stop, a group of children on their way home from school.
No one looks suspicious. Of course people rarely look like killers, until they kill you.
I focus more closely on my laptop, and lose track of time.
I jump as Sam drops his bag on the table next to me, which makes Dean laugh.
"Oh hey, what did you find out?" I ask.
"Well in addition to the blood loss and skin missing, there are scorch marks all over the crime scenes." Sam replies, "It makes no sense. I've never seen a list of signs like this."
"Wait, scorch marks?" I begin to type feverishly, and pull up an article from the Dominican that I had read earlier. "It's a soucouyant! Every sign points to it!"
Sam takes the laptop out of my hands and reads the article. "These things are supposed to be in places like the Dominican Republic and Haiti, what would one be doing in Louisiana?"
"My guess would be immigration." Dean says.
"I'll have to pull up the immigration records." Sam says, as he pulls out his laptop. "You wouldn't believe how helpful the internet can be with things like this."
I take my laptop back and continue my research. This was a nasty monster.
"A soucouyant is a hag, who lives at the edge of a village." I read, "She uses dark magic to shed her skin at night and travel as a fireball creature, which explains the scorch marks. She travels through cracks and crevices in a house, and she feeds on her victim's blood. Then she takes their skin to add to her creepy collection. 'Yech'."
"Ok, so we have 12 different descendants of immigrants from the tropical islands where the soucouyant legend originates from." Sam says. "Upon further research, I've narrowed it down to two women who fit the 'Hag' profile."
"Can you get their addresses?" I ask. "The lore says that the soucouyant likes to live on the edge of the town."
"Here we go" Sam replies, "Hatty Moore. The family had their name changed when they immigrated, and she is a third generation from the Dominican."
I begin to research everything about Hatty Moore. I come across a news article that details the tragic demise of Hatty's parents, which led to her being raised by her grandmother, the immigrant. I read the article out loud to the brothers, and we all agree, this is our best bet.
"Does your article say how to kill a soucouyant?" Dean asks.
"Yeah. One of us has to lure her fireball form to the crossroads of the town. We need to pour out rice in the crossroads. Legend says she is obligated to pick up every piece. While she is busy we have to sneak into her house. She is supposed to leave her skin in a mortar. We need to fill it with rock salt and burn it. When she returns to find her skin destroyed she perishes. The article says that she only turns into the fireball shape once every thirteen years, and takes thirteen victims. Hatty moved here thirteen years ago. This will be our last chance. I think she will move again after tonight."
Sam and Dean agree, and we head to the hotel to catch some sleep before tonight.
...
I wake up at six and head to the stop and shop. I pick up three bags of rice, and a box of rock salt. I look at my haul, and decide to buy a few more things, so that it doesn't look suspicious. I have no idea how smart soucouyants are.
I stop on the way back, and pick up dinner for the boys.
When I get back to the hotel, Sam is up and putting on his shirt. I clear my throat to alert him of my presence.
"Dinner," I whisper, as Dean is still sleeping.
"Thanks" Sam replies, as he takes a salad out of my hands. He hesitates and looks down at me.
"You know," He says, "I really am glad you are hunting with us."
"Me too. I'm glad I'm not alone anymore." I reply.
"You never have to worry about that again," He promises.
A warm feeling bubbles up in my stomach as I look up at him.
He starts to say something else, but Dean interrupts. He walks in the room, hair tousled and eyes only half open.
"Do I smell burgers?" He asks.
I smile and hand him a fast food bag.
"Eat up," I say. "We have work to do."
...
We leave at seven thirty, and reach the address by dark.
The weeds we are hiding in scratch at my arms, and the mosquitoes bite my neck.
"Hurry up already" I whisper.
Suddenly I see a light flicker through the dirty window.
"Guys" I warn.
Sam and I stand up and move into the road.
An orange light seeps through the cracks, and takes form outside the door. Not a fireball per se.
She looks more like some strange fire goddess.
"HEY!" Sam shouts to attract her attention, as he starts up the Impala.
We jump in as the soucouyant starts toward us. I see Dean sneak out of the weeds and toward the shack.
"HIT IT!" I shout.
Damn she is fast.
We drive toward the crossroads at top speed, and she keeps up. She puts her hand on the rear window, scorching the glass.
"Sam faster!" I shout.
"It's topped out, we're almost there!" he replies.
We skid into the crossroads just in time. I toss Sam a bag of rice, and rip mine open, flinging it as hard as possible. Rice flies far and wide, and the soucouyant screeches. Sam pours his bag out and we get back in the Impala. I look back to see her picking up the rice, which she is now obligated to do until daybreak. That gives us plenty of time.
Sam and I get back to the shack, and I pour one more bag of rice on the porch, just in case she has been practicing her rice retrieval skills, and is super fast at it.
"Did you find it?" Sam says, as we walk through the door.
"Its not as easy as you might think." Dean scowls. He gestures to a wall full of mortars. Each mortar contains a different skin, and all the mortars are all identical.
"Seriously?!" I groan. "We will be here all night!"
"Lets get started" Sam says.
We begin burning skins. The stench is overwhelming, and the task is time consuming.
The last skin smolders to ash as the sun breaks the horizon.
"Lets go!" Sam says.
I follow them back into the weeds to wait. A smoke trail signifies the return of the soucouyant.
It does not take long for the creature to realize her skin is gone. An unearthly wail rings out, and the shack bursts into a bright blue flame.
I heave a sigh of relief.
"Lets go home" I say.
...
It's been a few days since we destroyed the soucouyant.
I sit on my bed cross-legged, mumbling under my breath.
"Damn weeds," I say as I dig at my arm.
"Stop scratching" Sam says.
I look up to see him standing in the doorway grinning.
"We were in the same damn weeds, how the hell did I get poison ivy, and you don't have a single hive." I grouch.
"Don't be hateful, I brought you calamine." He says, holding out a pink bottle.
I jump out of my bed and snatch the bottle from his hand. It feels so soothing on my arms.
"This is it," I say, as I flop back on my bed. "I have fought a thousand monsters, and shall be defeated by a weed."
"I think you'll live" he replies.
"Nope."
"Try to get some sleep. You'll fell better soon."
He walks over to my bed and kisses me on the forehead. My stomach jumps into my throat.
"Good night" I say.
"Good night, Macenzie"