Chapter 3

The black Chevy Impala pulled up to the front entrance of the morgue. Sam gave the place a once over, a look of trepidation washed over his face. Dean look back in the car, giving Sam a confused look when he didn't get out.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Just go in without me."

"What? Why?"

"Cause I hate morgues, I didn't want to go in the last time, back in Toledo."

Dean shook his head, trying to suppress the smile forming on his lips " Sam get out of the car."

Sam mumbled an inaudible 'jerk' as he got out of the car. Walking up to the entrance they saw a receptionist, a lady in her late 50's with flowing gray hair tucked back into a bun.

"Okay you distract her while I find the documentation room." Dean whispered.

"No, wait why don't you distract her?"

"Cause old people love you."

"Nuh uh, I remember Grandpa taking a special liking to you when we were younger."

"Just do it." Dean said, gently pushing him towards the desk.

"Hello sweetie, may I help you?"

Sam took a quick glance back at Dean, who gave a slight wave of his hand as if to tell him to go on.

"Yes, um, I am from the University of Charleston and I'm doing a paper on morticians and what they do."

"Oh that's nice." She said sweetly.

"I was wondering if you had any pamphlets or if I could talk with one of your own mortician staff?"

"I think we have some pamphlets somewhere here sonny hold on," She said, ruffling through some of the papers on her desk. " I can never find time to clean this darn thing off."

When she dunked underneath her desk to continue her search, Sam motioned for Dean to go ahead. Dean slipped past the desk and went down one of the halls.

"Well I don't see any right here."

"Oh keep looking I'm sure you'll find them." Sam said, flashing her a huge, but convincing smile.

"Sure sweet cheeks, let me go check in the back."

Sam stood there, tapping his foot with impatience, looking down the hall every few seconds for Dean. After about fifteen minutes, the receptionist had not returned and neither had Dean. Sam decided to go look for himself. He went down one of the halls and opened one of the doors. The room was filled with huge filing cabinets.

Huh, I found this place in less than a minute, where the hell is Dean?

Sam rubbed his hands over his arms.

It sure is cold in here.

He walked over to one of the cabinets and opened it, revealing a frigid male corpse. Sam let out a loud shriek, his heart jumping into his throat. He quickly closed the cabinet with an immense amount of force, causing another cabinet on the right to swing open. He ran over to that one and closed it, causing another one in the center to swing open. Sam shut that one and ran out of the room before any more could eject. He saw Dean coming down the hall, tucking a beige folder in his brown, leather jacket. Dean looked as his brother, who was panting and sweating profusely.

"Man what happened to you? You look like you've seen a ghost…..or did you?"

"No, lets just go." Sam said, not willing to admit to his brother that he had mistaken the body preservation room for the documentation room.

-back at the motel-

"Okay, it says the body had long razor-like marks across the chest." Sam said as he read the autopsy paper.

"Yeah and here are the pictures to prove it," Dean said, grimacing at the grotesque photos. " You think this guy could have done that to himself?"

Sam took a look at the picture. " Not a chance, not that many times anyway."

"Wait, you see that?" Dean said pointing to the distinct way the marks ran together.

"See what?"

"Look at the marks, its like someone's initials."

Sam traced his finger over the picture " F….K. What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but we have to go see Jake Peterson again, he knows something about all this."

--------

Damn!

Jake's eyes traced the inside of the empty pill bottle. He threw the bottle in the trash when he heard his little brother enter the room.

"Jake, mom said supper's ready."

"Okay I'll be there in a minute." Jake said, not even looking back to acknowledge his brother.

" Did you have a good nap, no nightmares I hope?"

"Yeah mike, I did. Why would I have nightmares?"

" I don't know, I mean if I saw him in my dreams, I would call that a nightmare."

"Wait, saw him? Who?"

"……Me."

Jake whirled around, he was now facing the man that had been terrorizing him in his dreams. A evil grin wiped over the man's horribly burned face as he stepped closer to Jake.

"No! your not real, your not real!" Jake said, closing his eyes tightly.

" Oh really? Well if I wasn't real could I be able to do this?" The man gave a quick swipe over Jake's face with his razor-sharp blades, causing four deep abrasions across his cheek.

"Somebody please, wake me up!" Jake screamed as the man's evil laughter filled the room.

Kathy entered her older son's room, to find him twitching incessantly on his bed. She could see his face bleeding from the doorway.

"Jake! Jake wake up!" his mother yelled, shaking her son.

Jake bolted up, his mother was now standing over him. He grabbed her in his arms and squeezed her tight.

"Mom, don't let him get me, please don't let him get me!"

"It's okay Jake, no one's going to get you." Kathy soothed.

Oh no, it's happening again. He's back. She thought.