Worshiped like Winchesters
Disclaimer: I'm practically dying because I have yet to own season 5 of Supernatural on DVD (Why can't September come sooner?), but I still do not own the rights to Supernatural or Charmed.
A/n: Did you know that "worshiped" can be spelled with one or two "p"'s? Apparently! I rather like it with the two "p"'s, but it is most often spelled with the one. So I'll use the one "p" to be more precise. Yes, I know that was random but when I started writing this I had a real hard time decided which way I wanted to spell "worshiped". Anyway…this chapter was actually finished on Thursday and I was ready to post it but then I was reading it over again to make sure it was really ready. I actually felt weird about some bits so I set it aside to re-edit and post later. And by a stroke of luck, I got Friday off of work so chapter 2 only had to be one day late! Enough of my excuses, legitimate, but excuses. I really wanted to say thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. You're all so amazing, each and every time! Plus I love all that fav this story or any of my other stories. So great. I also love anyone who reads it but doesn't get the chance to review or fav. You're still quite awesome in my book. I'm happy for anyone that enjoys it. So I now present to you chapter 2!
Chapter 2: So dig a little deeper
Both Wyatt and Chris had realized right away what Melinda was truly trying to say when she had talked about a special tour of the museum. The way their sister's eyes had glinted told them all they needed to know about the thoughts and images that had cropped up in her brain. She had smiled and they had smiled, telling Melinda she had gotten the answers she was looking for. So three and a half minutes after midnight: the two Halliwell brothers orbed into a locked down museum.
Three and a half minutes, plus twenty-two seconds, after midnight: the one Halliwell sister saw the last traces of her brothers disappear from the Manor, white and blue lights melting away. A minute later, Melinda headed up the stairs to the attic in order to do the research she promised Wyatt she would do since he wanted her to stay home as backup. The Book of Shadows was already open and waiting for her.
Though she wanted answers to the questions her nightmares posed, no magical breeze flipped the tanned pages of the book, but Melinda shivered as if she herself felt a breeze. She sighed and snatched the corner of the right page, turning to an excerpt on ghosts. She turned another page. She shivered again. The visions were still affecting her body's internal temperature.
'I just need to make the right connections, sort the images out and understand what trouble they're trying to warn me about,' thought the young witch.
Melinda passed around the book to walk towards the old couch still kept in the attic. First she grabbed a remote off the cushions and then she grabbed a blanket off the arm. While she was wrapping herself up in the blanket, she used the remote to turn on the TV. Back when Chris spent more time studying his Magic School homework than his regular homework, he had brought the small black television into the attic so that he could practice his magic and ignore the real world all at the same time. He even tried to live in the attic for a while but he could not manage a sixth day sleeping on the worn out couch.
It only got the local channels, so Melinda settled for the late night news on channel three. When she heard the news anchor speak up, she dropped the remote back on the couch and walked over to the book once again. Now the blanket kept her from shivering in nonexistent breezes.
The younger Halliwell figured her siblings would take a worthy amount of time to carefully search the museum for clues, so she decided to take her time examining the magical information she had inherited. She scanned paragraphs, poems, and potion ingredients, attempting to conjure connections to her visions. She would bite her lip whenever something seemed like it could be helpful, but probably really was not. This went on for a quiet, except for the sighs of a young witch and the aging pages, ten minutes. But suddenly the part of her brain sort of listening to the TV, took full control and brown eyes zoned in on the news anchor.
"Ever since the sarcophagi were discovered in Egypt seven months ago, archaeologists and scientists have spent hours trying to figure out a complex mechanism that seems to be some sort of padlock, keeping the elaborate coffins shut. It wasn't until the contents of the tomb, including the sarcophagi, arrived here in San Francisco to be placed on exhibit that someone finally unraveled the mystery that prevented the anthropological community from seeing just who was buried in such a furtive way," the graying male reporter went on.
"A local mystery man stopped by the museum two days ago to tell the curator that he could open the coffins easily. According to inside sources, the man apparently had a snake with him and when he spoke a bizarre poem, the snake somehow made its way into one of the sarcophagi through a previously undiscovered hole, unlocking it from the inside. Instantly, both sarcophagi sprang open. The scientists, who had been too busy watching the sarcophagi, looked up to thank the strange man, but it seems he vanished, as if straight into thin air.
"No one knows the identity of the man who cracked an ancient Egyptian puzzle when a team of highly trained professionals could not, and efforts to investigate where he came from have turned up nothing. Regardless of the mysterious circumstances, the museum decided to display the now open coffins with the mummies still inside for the first time today. The exhibit was well attended and the curator hopes that the good fortune will continue for the future. The search for the man and his lucky snake will continue in the meantime."
The news anchor's partner, a busty, blonde female smiled and put her two cents in, "Looks like people don't just learn about mysteries of the past, but also the present at the de Young museum."
Melinda heard the words "de Young" pushed out of the speakers on the TV to reach her ears and her mind pulled her into a new premonition.
Dean held up a small penlight to shine on the lock to make up for the lack of moonlight that usually accompanied Sam's pick-locking skills. The younger Winchester carefully maneuvered his tools around the metal mechanisms and at exactly five minutes past midnight: the two hunters had broken into the museum. They entered quietly, only the muted sound of clothes rustling, and began to search around for the entrance to the correct exhibit.
To be continued…
A/n: This chapter is slightly shorter than normal but I needed to end at certain places so that I could gather the writing, and my thoughts, together at a more productive point. Still, enjoy it. It was enjoyable to write. Especially since I listened to an old CD of REO Speedwagon that my mom just gave me for the whole time I was writing this. Please be kind and review. Hopefully I'll see ya'll again next Thursday.
Be seeing you in the other side of the rain
-ROMS