Usual disclaimers apply.

Sorry that I've not had a chance to say my thanks for all those really supportive reviews on the last chapter. I promise to get back to you all one and all when RL stops playing silly buggers with my schedule! Be warned blood and torture to come! Rozzy

Becoming too visible

Chapter 3: Bad mojo

The sensation of being pulled over rough ground brought Sam back to semi consciousness. From his prone position he tried to move his head off the floor and focus on what tugged at him but his head felt like a tonne weight and his eyes refused to cooperate.

All he managed was to groan out loud as pain radiated through his body as he was dragged over the concrete floor.

"Dean?" he managed to whisper out a moment later despite the stabbing white-hot needles of pain fizzing in his skull.

Wondering why his brother wasn't trying to put a stop to the world of hurt he was in right now he tried to bring his thought processes back online again. Then in fearful clarity he remembered that it was he that was supposed to be saving his brother not the other way round and the panic beat hard in his chest again.

Willing his eyes to open Sam hissed through the disorientation of travelling flat on his back with the overhead lights flickering passing by in a blur, whilst the sensation of ice-cold bony fingers wrapped around his ankle screamed fresh agony as his skin burned under the touch.

Gulping back a cry of alarm he realised that it was the less than friendly ghost of before that had hold of him and he tried kicking his way out of his grip to no effect, while with his good arm he tried to latch onto something solid to pull against.

Whipping a look back over his shoulders the grey spirit smiled in appreciation that Sam was awake again and winked sickeningly down at him, "You ready to play some more young un?"

Sam trying to ignore the agony of the spirit's dead finger on his skin, the pounding in his skull and the throb of his broken arm he managed to growl out, "Let me go you sadistic little shit."

"Now were would be the fun in that, eh?" Black eyes glittered brightly as he eyed Sam's bloodied face, "You bleed such a pretty red don't you know. I surely do like playing with you."

Sam paled but continued to twist against the ghost's frighteningly strong grip on his ankle as he was taken further down the corridor and away from his brother.

"Wriggly little critter ain't you?" hissed the grey ghost letting go of his leg only to reach down and snatch at his collar. Sam found himself yanked to his feet in one clean lift and then was sent airborne by the ghosts inhuman strength. "Lets see how well you can fly boy."

o0o0o0o0o

The large blond hunter outfitted in jeans and highly polished black cowboy boots with flashy gold tips was pure redneck from the head down. Like his cousin he sported his hair long, the thinning locks held back in a loose scraggy ponytail.

As icy grey eyes took stock of the situation Murdoch raised an eyebrow in surprise noting Anderson's prone form tied to the pipe and guessed that Dean must have worked out their agenda.

His voice a low drawl he asked, "So your little love fest with Benny all over with now is it Winchester? Or you just playing kinky?"

"The scumbag is lucky I didn't waste him," scowled back Dean inching slowly away from the door and the pointed gun before adding darkly, "Might still happen."

As Dean looked at the man in front of him whose gun was aimed squarely at his chest he couldn't keep the sneer off his face. A difference of opinion had passed between them two years back and he knew Murdoch had no fondness for him now. A broken and jaw and nose would do it every time.

Adrian Murdoch for his part glared over at Dean recalling just how painful it had been to suck only liquids through his wired jaw until it healed and itched to pull the trigger. He dug down deep to find the necessary control as he knew Dean might still be of use to him in getting to his brother and he had worked too damn hard to put this all together to screw things up now just for the sake of revenge. That could come later.

Dean stood still, his shotgun loose at his side projecting an air of indifference whilst his mind worked furiously on all the angles. His brother should have been back by now, but him walking back into this trap was as much of a problem as the pesky ghost playing pattercake with them and he silently prayed that his little brother had enough spidey senses left to know the danger he was in. Fanatics like Murdoch were just too ornery to trust not to do their worst just because they could.

Cocking his head in a cheeky grin he teased the man noticing the slightly bent path his nose now took, "You sure know how to scare off the gals even more with that mighty ugly look you have going on now."

Adrian Murdoch flashed a row full of perfect white teeth appreciating the man's boldness and Dean was instantly reminded of a barracuda and his whole body tensed afresh. This man was gunning for his brother and he knew he had to be stopped by any means necessary.

The two hunters eyed each other and Murdoch was inwardly thankful that he had the upper hand this time round, "Why don't you put the gun slowly down and kick it over to me."

Dean took a moment before complying but knew it would be foolish not to agree and placed the gun on the floor nudging it gently over to older hunter with his foot.

Anderson knowing just how dangerous Dean was quickly chimed in as he watched the shotgun skid across the floor, "Watch him Murdoch, he's got my revolver and his own still on him."

Murdoch tutted softly gun still aimed purposely at Dean, "Those also Winchester."

Dean snuck a look at his former friend and wished he had shot him when he had the chance. Unable to keep his disgust hidden he placed the additional weapons on the floor and was forced to take a few steps back as Murdoch waved him away. Eyes stayed locked on him the whole time as Murdoch kicked the guns to the far corner of the room.

Anderson threw a weak grin up at his would be rescuer. "Sure is good to see you man."

"Your lucky I kept my wits about me, unlike you who couldn't keep your mouth shut as planned," snapped back Murdoch in condemnation as he sliced through the ropes that kept the older man tied to the pipe.

Shuddering at the release Anderson quickly snapped back, "He heard our phone call man. Didn't take him long to put it all together. His daddy trained him well."

Dean stiffened at the reference to his father but he was more concerned at his brother's failure to return and he spat out at Murdoch, "Where the hell is Sam?"

"Now see Winchester that's exactly what I'd like to know. Where is that freak of a brother of yours that you've been trying to hide away?" Murdoch looked at him humourlessly, putting the switchblade in his back jean pocket all the while keeping the cocked gun pointed dangerously at him with the other.

Anderson piped up, "The kid was here Adrian. Tried to get the door open then went off to find something to jimmy it open. You didn't see him? Could have only been five minutes ago max."

"Door spun open easily enough when I tried it," drawled out Murdoch smiling dangerously over at Dean. "Perhaps his brother ran chicken when our ghost made himself known…"

"No way man he wouldn't leave Dean behind. That damn poltergeist froze the lock or something," offered up Anderson breathlessly his injuries starting to overwhelm him.

"Yeah by the way bang up job you guys did in getting rid of the freaky spooks," snarked back Dean eyes locked on the blond man ready for any chance to take him down.

Murdoch smiled wide again shaking his head, "Did your old friend Ben say that was part of the plan? Come on Dean I thought you brighter than that. I needed you distracted and having a demented pissed off ghost around was the perfect way to do that."

Anderson sucked in air noisily at realising that he had been played, just like he had played Dean, "You said you'd clean the place out. Goddamit I walked in blind and look what happened."

Looking over the bloodied and broken hunter Murdoch grinned viciously, "You think I'd let you in on the whole plan Anderson. Hell you were willing to stitch up one of your best friends, not exactly a trustworthy act dude. You were just the necessary tool to get the freak here. Nothing more."

Sputtering out his outrage Ben blurted out, "Yeah well your lies has cost you more than you know you fucking moron as the kid said that your cousin was hanged by the thing you let loose on us."

Murdoch visibly flinched and his eyes narrowed at the news but whatever sense of familial loss he felt he still kept his control, not taking his eyes off Dean and kept his gun steady. "Gil wasn't supposed to come in till I gave him the signal. The crazy idiot should have should have kept with the programme and stayed in the van."

"Inbreeding sure left your cousin your side of moronic didn't it?" spat out Dean viciously, "Poor guy never was the brightest spark, then again neither are you."

"Yeah well I'm smart enough to be holding a gun to your stupid head Winchester. And I was smart enough to cast a binding spell over our little ghost friend," warned Murdoch

Dean's sucked in a breath in disbelief at the callousness of the man, "You're one sick puppy aren't you? Was any of this really worth your cousin getting hung for? What the hell happened to family being everything?"

Waving his gun dangerously Murdoch reacted to the accusation, "Yeah well Gil should have stayed put like I told him too but I guess he was too fucking eager to get started on your little brother. The freak sure has a lot to answer for."

"Excuse me if I don't feel anything but thanks for your little ghost getting to Gil before he got to my brother. "

"You won't be saying your thanks if old Saunder's spirit latches on to little brother believe me. I'm the only one safe from the monster. Lucky me eh?" snarled back Murdoch as he fingered guilty the charm at his neck that kept him protected but at the cost of cousin's life.

"God man what the hell have you been playing with here?" demanded Anderson, fear settling hard in the pit of his stomach. "You know screwing around with dark spirits never ends well. Just who the hell is this Saunders creature you've let loose?"

"If you'd done your homework old man instead drowning your weak pathetic ass in a bottle of tequila you would have known that Saunders was a mean sonofabitch. A real sadist that threw one hell of a temper tantrum back in 1927, slit his wife's throat, sliced his own sons into pieces and then went a little slash happy with some of his fellow workers. Blood bath went on for days."

Shaking his head Dean tried to make sense of his story, "Why the hell would a dead guy kick off now some eighty years later? Just what did you do you Murdoch to bring him back like this?"

"Little hoodoo mojo I learnt from your old girlfriend in New Orleans. She was mighty accommodating when I told her I was going to use it to whip your sorry butt. Never did take kindly to you dumping and running out on her like that. Woman scorned and all…"

"Patty? That spiteful little bitch," spat out Dean inwardly cringing that his past exploits had come back to bite him on the ass again. From now on he was steering clear of all woman that spoke in tongues and danced naked when the moon was full.

Murdoch enjoying his moment of control crowed out, "On yeah, you should have heard what she called you Winchester. Really surprised that such a sweet young thing like that could know such filthy words. She really doesn't like you at all…."

Ignoring the jibe Dean looked over to Anderson, and couldn't help but snigger at seeing the man's shocked expression on realising how easily duped he had been. "Man you are so screwed. Murdoch isn't going to do a thing to help you out of here. You'd better start learning to shuffle on your butt real fast old man as your easy pickings on the menu of his dead psychotic killer."

Murdoch grinned maliciously ignoring the open plea on Anderson's face and waived the gun at Dean's head. "Turn around Winchester and don't even think of doing anything a little bit tasty because believe me I'm just itching to blow a hole in your head after our last encounter."

Dean growled out his frustration but slowly complied by turning to face the wall knowing that Murdoch would make good the threat and he was no good to his brother dead he reasoned.

As Dean felt his hands being tied expertly behind his back, skin burning as the rope bit hard, he still clung to the hope that if he could get free then he could get his brother out of this mess that he had led him into. Staying alive had to be top priority right now and sticking with Murdoch was the best way to ensure that for the time being.

A hard hand on his shoulder spun him back round and Murdoch grabbed his chin, "You better behave Winchester or you'll soon find out what it like to walk without the benefit of kneecaps. You understand me?"

Dean scowled but nodded his understanding. Patting his cheek with an almost fatherly touch Murdoch smiled and leant in, "Good boy, now lets go find that wayward little brother of yours and explain to him the error of his demon tainted ways."

As Dean was led out of the room he threw Anderson one last look, "You best hope that fugly bastard Saunders gets to you first because when I come back I'm going to finish what I started."

Murdoch chuckled and pushed him forward with the barrel of his gun hard against the small of his back. Dean stumbled forward but quickly righted himself and stepped out into the corridor glowering at the man.

Anderson called out after the retreating hunters with more than a hint of desperation in his voice, "What about me Ade? You can't leave me here. Not like this."

When there was no response he started in a crawl towards the door but it banged shut as soon as Murdoch exited the room. "No you can't do this to me," screamed out Anderson as once again the room sealed shut.

Dean grinned openly as the door was kicked shut by Murdoch on the crawling form of man he had once foolishly called friend. At least he knew where to find the turncoat when he got free.

The smile soon vanished though when he noticed the bloody marks on the steel door, smearing the handle and tainting the surrounding metal. Dean swallowed hard on spotting a clearly visible handprint higher up, as if someone had braced themselves in need of support. It was large print and long fingers had splayed out leaving a red sticky impression and instantly he knew it had been left there by his brother.

"Jesus," he whispered under his breath at the sight. Not once had he thought that his brother had gotten hurt when he talked with him through the door earlier. Sam had given him no clue to the fact and he hadn't thought to ask his main concern was getting out of that damn room and getting them both to safety.

As his eyes travelled along the dirty floor he could make out the odd splattered drops of blood every few yards and further smears of crimson on the bare plastered walls where Sam had brushed up against them.

Struggling to keep his breathing even Dean recalled his brother's throw away remark about the ghost having a 'power tool fetish' and realised Sam must have learnt about it in an all too real way.

Fear gripped him and his knees felt suddenly weak realising that things were even more screwed up than he could have ever imagined. Sammy was out there with no clue about Murdoch's paranoid plans for him, but worse was the fact there was a freaking homicidal spirit out there with access to enough power tools to cut a man in half.

None of this was good at all. He had to find Sam fast and get him the hell away from all this craziness.

For once he was thankful for the fierce shove from behind by Murdoch's inpatient hand galvanising his wobbly legs into action and he started walking down the long stretch of corridor, following after the bloody evidence his brother had left behind with a growing realisation that he had well and truly fucked up big time with this one.

Murdoch leant in and whispered spitefully into Dean's ear, "Looks like little brother has thoughtfully left a little trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Lead on Dorothy."

Just over a minute later Dean lurched to a halt by the stairwell his stomach doing flip-flops at the sight. A fresh spray of blood splattered one wall and frantic eyes searched around realising that this was the place his brother had said he was returning to get a crowbar for the door.

"Sammy," he whispered out in alarm on seeing the tool a few yards ahead, crimson tipped, worse though was the path of red that smeared the floor as if something had been dragged blooded along the floor. Dean mouth went dry as he was in no doubt that that 'something' had been his baby brother.

Murdoch sucked in a breath between clenched teeth at the disturbing sight. He really hadn't planned on the youngest Winchester being taken out before he had his little chat with him. Things were getting screwed, with Gil apparently dead and the youngest Winchester looking to go the same way. He had worked to damn hard to see all his long thought out plans go out of the window like this.

The long dead Jeremy Saunders was proving as mean a ghost as he had been a violent murderer in real life, his bloodlust just as strong in death as in life. "Naughty Jeremy, very naughty," he growled under his breath. "Just what have you done with the kid?"

Dean spun round to lock eyes with the man. "You better pray he's alive or I will kill you good and slow."

"Promises, promises," spat back Adrian waiving the gun purposely in his face. "What you gonna do? Verbally punch me to death?"

Murdoch laughed at the furious expression on Dean's face and put a hand on his shoulder pushing him forwards indicating for him to walk on with a nod of his head. "Hey Dean," he remarked drolly, "You'd would have thought a psychic hotshot like Sammy boy would have seen something like this coming?"

Dean's ground his teeth together at being so helpless and didn't bother with an answer, his heart beating loud in his chest as he followed the red path. Twenty yards on it stopped at the lip of the hole in the ground for lift shaft and hurriedly Dean looked over the edge sweat trickling down his neck fearing the worse.

Flinching at the scene below his eyes scoured the area for signs of his brother but found none. Finding his voice Dean hollered out his brother's name, which echoed up the shaft and around the floor only to be met with silence.

Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his brother's disappearance and instead took a step back from the hole shaking his head in denial. Not seeing Sammy down there dead was a positive thing he kept on telling himself. There was still hope to fix this fucked up day.

"Shit," snapped out Murdoch as he peered down to the bottom and saw only the dead security guard below, "Now just where has the little brat got to now?"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sam yelped in surprise at suddenly being airborne and the memory of the impaled security guard in the basement two floors below snapped his eyes wide open fearing the same fate.

Instinctively his good hand had lashed out searching for contact with something solid as he flew over the edge of the open lift shaft with the ghost's intention of making him fly made real.

Fingers stretched out and miraculously snagged around a bunch electrical cables dangling from the floor above like snakes and ignoring the scream of muscle and the painful tug on his shoulder he kept his grip. For a frightening moment he carried on falling till the cables pulled tight under his weight and he swung dizzily as his descent was abruptly halted.

Vision greying he clung desperately to the mass of cables before his body's momentum and gravity pulled him back in a sweep to the floor below the one he just fallen from and he dared to let go.

The drop of eight feet came at a rush and as he impacted with the concrete floor an expulsion of air from his bruised lungs escaped. Sam struggled to draw enough oxygen in and breathe through the pain, shivering on the cold floor just thankful to still be alive.

After awhile Sam managed to roll back onto his knees and a weak smile tugged at his lips as he realised just how close a call that had just been, "Freaking unbelievable, Dean's never gonna believe this one...never."

Ignoring the warm sticky mess on his face and neck he tried to stand but had to brace himself against a wall for support as his shaky legs threatened another up, close and personal meeting with the floor again.

Sam's head felt ready to implode as the monster of all headaches kept banging away from the inside of his skull. Blinking tiredly through the blanket of blood streaming down his face he tried to work out in which direction he had to go next.

'Up a floor' he told himself, back to his brother. "Come on find the stupid stairs. Not too hard…"

For all his intentions his body refused to move forwards as the world spun topsy-turvy and Sam swayed dangerously on his feet.

'Smack to the head with a crowbar was just no fun at all.' he told himself as his vision grew grey and all coherent thought left him just as his legs gave up the battle and buckled.

As the pull of unconsciousness overcame Sam the air grew decidedly chilled again and Jeremy materialised beside him just as he started this ungainly headfirst topple back to the concrete floor.

Giggling Saunders grabbed at Sam's limp form, letting his head loll back to the floor with a soft thud. "Fly boy trying to bust up yer head good and proper again. If you ain't careful your gonna leak out before I can have more playtime with yer."

When there was no response from Sam he frowned a little disgruntled that he had no audience to listen to him. "Like I see it kid you ain't got no right to causing more hurt to yourself. No siree I tell you when and how you get your licks from now on young man. Me and only me."

o0o0o0o0o0o

"Oh my god," whispered Murdoch in horror as he pushed hastily past Dean in the stairwell doorway his eyes wide at seeing his cousin swinging lifelessly before him. The grey color to his skin only reinforced the smell of death around him and he gagged slightly at the scent.

Tears stung vicious but he blinked them away his face snarling in disapproval as he tried to dismiss his part in his cousin's death "Stupid idiot…why didn't you listen to me? We would have got the freak if you just stuck with the plan."

Dean swallowed hard and shook his head, "Poor dumb schmuch was crazy enough to follow after your stupid ass and look what it got him."

"This wouldn't have happened if you had dealt with your brother the way any other decent hunter would have done. We would never had to come here in the first placed," snapped back Adrian. Gently his hand touched the toe of one of Gil's tan coloured boots to make his limp body jib a strangely beautiful dance under the thrall of the strangling wires.

Distracted by his grief the blond hunter took his silence as some form of agreement not realising that Dean was working furiously at his bound hands. As he had jostled against Murdoch in the stairway earlier he snaked the switchblade from his jean pocket and was quickly eating through the thick rope.

Murdoch didn't appreciate the danger he was in until the knife sliced a thin line under his chin drawing blood. His Adam's apple wobbling dangerously close to the blade as Dean's breath hit his ear as he growled out. "Like I said it will be good and slow Murdoch what I will do to you if my brother is dead."

Taking the gun out of his hand Dean spun the large man around and before further words could be exchanged brought the butt of the gun in a tight swift arc to the blond man's temple knocking him out cold.

For a moment Dean studied the prone figure and was tempted to shoot him where he had dropped but instead leant down and pulled the talisman off his neck and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

Dragging him out of the stairwell he pulled Murdoch into a small closet and hogtied him with some metal wire, biting into skin. As he left him trussed up he didn't care one little bit that he wouldn't be able to protect himself if Saunders came calling. The bastard deserved everything that happened next he reasoned playing around with black magic like that.

Sam was his only priority right now and with that psychotic ghost still on the loose he had to get to him fast. He returned to the stairwell ignoring the gently swinging body and decided to start his search for his missing brother from the top floor downwards.

"Sammy don't you dare do something stupid like die on me kiddo," he whispered under his breath as he took the stairs two at times to the top floor. "How can I make this right if you aren't around for me to eat crow?"

o0o0o0o0o0o

Jeremy Saunders flickered as the moonlight filtered through him. Crouching down he prodded at the decidedly unconscious figure wanting him desperately to wake up so he could continue his fun and games.

It had been an age since he could enjoy the thrill of watching the life pour out of a living being. The guard earlier had gushed beautifully all over his chest and floor, making such a pretty sight for starving eyes but it had happened all to quickly. Over and done with in seconds rather than the long hours it had taken for his own dunderheaded boys to die back in the day.

Patiently he had waited for Sam to stir but when he remained obstinately unconscious he prodded him with the tip of his foot. When there was no response he frowned and leant in to study the trail of blood congealing on the pale face in open fascination.

The smear of red stood out shouting out his living status to his long dead eyes and he just wished he could taste it again on his lips, on his tongue. Greedily he leant closer in and sniffed deeply and took a long lick up one side of his coated face but drew back disappointed when the longed for coppery taste could not be made out on his dead tongue.

Saunders eyes glinted dangerously as he dragged his icy fingertips against the nails embedded in the cast on Sam's arm enjoying the slick warmth dripping over his shrivelled skin. A thought came to him and he pushed against the tip of one metal nail and slowly it worked its way out of the cast to clatter to the ground.

Picking up the eight-inch nail he turned it over in his fingers and smiled in satisfaction thinking of what further damage he could have with it later.

Sighing he watched the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest and he pouted again, "Stupid boy, wake up now. I didn't you hit that hard did I? How can I hear your screams if you keep on sleeping like this?"

Leaning into him he shook Sam's shoulders but there was no response. It was no longer a thrill to just watch and wait and Saunders could sense the heartbeats of other men in the building and hungrily knew that he could be having fun with them whilst this one slept.

Smoothing the sticky hair away from Sam's forehead he whispered chilling, "Don't go anywhere my pet. I'll be back soon enough and then we can play some more when you open those pretty eyes of yours again. I promise."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

He tried to scream as the nail punctured the cornea of his eye to the viscous jelly inside then started to spasm as the metal bit deeper into brain matter. Determinedly Saunders pushed the nail in deeper laughing happily as the man continued to whimper even though the power of speech had deserted him when he had torn out his tongue.

"See I told you this would be fun."

TBC

Gruesome I know….but feedback as always warmly appreciated!