4. 2007 (Part One): Motiveless Crime
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Sam felt the rush of satisfaction and exhilaration each time he forced the knife inside the body. The way the skin would be protest against the pressure applied by the knife, before finally giving way. He felt the blood pour of the wound cover his hands, felt it spray across his face like an ocean mist. He could even feel the body of his victim wriggle beneath him like fish gasping for air.
He continued to drive the knife into his skin, changing his routine, he drove the knife into the body one more time -- into the center of the chest --, and proceeded to slice upward. And that's when he felt it. The detached sense of anguish or unadulterated fear that spread through him. He seemed to brush it off as inconsequential, amusing even, but it persisted. It begged him, pleaded with him to stop. That same distraught part of him wanted to look away, block out of the sight of his brother being butchered like a cow, but he couldn't.
The darker side made him watch, enjoying every moment of his pain. Sam screamed until his throat was raw and just like that, the darkness that consumed him, retreated. When he could see again, he found himself standing over what was left his brother, covered in his blood.
"No!" Sam cried, bolting upright.
Dean glared sleepily at the digital clock sitting on the bedside table. 3:33am in the morning; The sun had yet to rise and he was kept up by the sex marathon going on the other side the hotel wall of their bedroom, while Sam slept through it as though it wasn't going on. Lucky dog. Turning away from the blinking clock, Dean readjusted himself against the headboard. He'd spent the better part of his early morning watching infomercials before grabbing Sam's laptop to do some searching for a gig, anything to distract him from the events of last week (and Sam's snoring). It wasn't everyday a man sold his soul in exchange for the life of his then-deceased brother.
The brothers made an effort not to discuss it until both of them were strong enough to hold a three hour shouting matching with each other. Dean knew that silent agreement wouldn't last for long; It wasn't in Sam's nature to let sleeping dogs lie. Rubbing his face, Dean scrolled down the Google page with mild interest. He'd forgotten what he was originally looking for and was simply going through the motions, his finger sliding lazily across the touch-sensitive pad of the laptop. Chicago, Illinois was the last place he wanted to be.
After their encounter with the Daeva's, Dean was content with never thinking of the city. He was more concerned with hunting down the demons that had escaped through the gateway opened by Jake. Sam, on the other hand, seemed intent on convincing him to take the gig that Ellen and Bobby were offering. "This was something Ash had picked up on a forum before he---" Ellen paused, regarding her palm for a moment. "---Anyway, apparently, there's a fraternity who likes to mess around with the occult every 5th of May. They haven't really done anything concrete, according to their webmaster, but says they found a summoning ritual for demon named Lilith, ---bringer of all sorts of plagues and nasty diseases--- and their going to try it out. I had totally forgotten about until now," Ellen had explained, extending the paper to Sam. "Think you can check it out?"
While Dean was happy to throw himself right back into work, but he'd wasn't in the mood to run "errands" for Ellen and nearly inquired why she hadn't given to someone else, but one look from his brother stopped him. Trying to investigate a fraternity messing around with demon rituals was going to be difficult with the authorities still scouring for their whereabouts. Clicking on the "next" button, Dean prepared to scroll down to the bottom when a link caught his eye. He wasn't sure where it came from, not a word he jotted down in the search box was in the brief description of the site.
"Tragedy in Chicago; Senior Fireman kills fellow Fireman and brother," He read. His finger moved across the pad, intending to position the arrow on the link when he was started out of his concentration by a strangled yell from across the room. Dean nearly tossed the Laptop over the bed, twisting around on the mattress Dean shoved the laptop under his pillow. Sam flailed about on the bed for a good two seconds, hands attacking his shirt as if to wipe away some thing. Dean started toward his bed, prepared to stop his brother's frantic movement when Sam slumped back on the mattresses. Dean made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam struggled to catch his breath. Sam lifted his head slightly to regard his brother's patient expression; He'd seen Sam wake or experience a vision so many times before that it wasn't even surprising, not really. Sam wondered if he still worried though.
"Vision?" Dean inquired. Sam didn't answer straight away, he focused his attention on ridding his senses of the smell and taste of iron. He looked up from the bed and shook his head. Dean titled his head to the side, curious and somewhat relieved by his brother's negative response. Since with traveling with Sam, the 'vision thing' had become something of a routine he'd grown accustomed to. So when Sam told him he didn't have one, Dean was inclined to believe was lying to him… again. "No, I -- it wasn't a vision, honest," Sam groaned, pressing himself against the bed. "Just a nightmare. A honest to God nightmare." Dean watched with wary eyes, unwilling to believe him. "Your sure?" He asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure," Answered Sam. "I'm okay, Dean." Dean watched his brother drape his arm across his eyes, exhaustion becoming more apparent in his body language. Rising from the edge of the bed, Dean returned to his own bed and buried his face into the pillow, making a note to return Sam's laptop to its rightful resting place before he noticed it was gone.
"I can't believe you."
"I meant to put it back--"
"I can't believe you fell asleep on my laptop!"
"You act like I broke the thing---"
"You practically drooled on it, not to mention, left it on all night--!"
"Alright, Sam, you made your point!" Dean snapped. "I'll ask next time."
Sam gave his brother a pointed look, that clearly meant 'like I would let you use it again'. He shoved his laptop into his raggedy backpack, grumbling to himself. Dean rolled his eyes, readjusting his jackets. He didn't mean to oversleep, let alone fall asleep on the laptop under his pillow and have his brother discover it. Why did Sam have to overreact when it came to that slab of metal, it baffled him. "Next time I'll hide the cord," He muttered to himself. The Winchesters completed packing their belongings and made speedy exit out of the motel.
The impala roared down the road, unhindered by the non-existent traffic as they ventured into the city. Sam watched the world fly by in a blur of colors and shapes, his mind not entirely focused on anything except the motion of the car. Turning away from the window, Sam diverted his attention to his brother, who's expression was stony as ever as he concentrated on driving. "So, do we have a plan of action?" He asked, praying his voice was loud enough to be heard over the wind and roar of the engine.
Dean gave a shrug of his shoulders in response, he hadn't gotten that far ahead of himself to be honest; He was still wondering how they were going to infiltrate the University Bobby had given the information on. He knew for sure Sam had a better chance of blending in with the crowd than he did, his brother's seemingly disarming looks and friendly personality gave him that advantage. Him on the other hand, Dean was a little rough around the edges when it came to being social; He was no amateur, no, but for whatever reason, people just seem to become guarded around him. His rugged appearance alone would be enough to raise suspicions. That and the FBI mug shot from the news. "Well, naturally, we find and kill the demon," Dean said finally.
Sam reframed from rolling his eyes at his brother. "Dean, I'm serious. Did you do any research on this 'Lilith'?" Dean grimaced, suddenly remembering why he'd taken Sam's laptop in the first place. "No."
"No?" Sam repeated, incredulous. Now, Sam couldn't help but wonder what his brother was doing the entire time with his laptop last night. "No! I forgot," Dean responded, clearly annoyed by the tone in his brother's voice. "You waking up from that "nightmare" didn't help my memory any either." Oh, so now its my fault you can't hold a simple task in your head? He thought. Sam decided not to respond vocally to that remark and focused on the world outside his window again. Dean shot a annoyed glance at his brother, unable to keep his eyes completely on the road. "Besides, our yellow eyed son of bitch, notwithstanding, she can't be any harder to kill than your run-of-the-mill demon," Dean retorted.
"When your brief description includes "plague" and "disease", I think it's safe to say that this isn't a run of the mill demon," Sam shot back. Dean nodded his head, scratching the back of his head. His brother had a point. "So where to? Some café with WI-FI, or the library?" Dean asked.
"The library," Sam answered. "We need to cover all our bases if we wanna get this thing done and over with, right?" There was a beat of silence, Sam continued to stare in his brother's direction until Dean grimaced and met his gaze, with an equally annoyed look. "Right," Sighed Dean, leaning back in his chair. Making a turn, he proceeded toward the library, ignoring the small smile that had been to spread on his brother's face. When they arrived, Dean pulled the impala up near the curb at the entrance of the library and let Sam out.
Sam gave something of a half wave to his brother before he proceeded across the lawn, Dean pulled off to find a decent parking space nearby. Sam's eyes examined the large structure of the Chicago Public Library briefly, admiring the crown-like design of its front at the very top. Entering the building he crossed the vast lobby crowded with people, making a bee-line towards the history and mythology section. As he entered the smaller room, the smell of old and new books hit him immediately. Old memories of spending hours in the corner of a library reading book upon books swam in his head.
The small crowd inside paid no attention to him as he strolled past them, heading towards the desk in the center of the room. The librarian glanced up from his computer screen at Sam, eyes studying his outward appearance before finally resting on his face. "May I help you?" He asked, resting his arms on the desk. Sam stopped a few inches away from the desk itself, fidgeting as he figured out how to formulate his question. "Umm, yes, I was wondering, if you had anything on--" Sam paused and allowed himself to chuckle nervously for effect.
The Librarian leaned forward, impatience beginning to show through his otherwise patient expression. "Sorry, its my first time here, so it's a little overwhelming," Sam offered in the way of explanation. The Librarian nodded. "Uh, anyways, I was looking for book on a Semitic mythology? Would you happen to have any books on the subject?" He said. The Librarian gave the young man a long and hard look before retreating back to the computer and typed something in. "Do you have a name?"
"Pardon?" Sam blurted.
"A name, young man. Do you have the name of the book your looking for, or perhaps, the author?" The Librarian repeated. Sam shook his head. "Not, really, sir, no," He lied, "But if you just point me in the general direction of where a book like that might be, I'll be out of your hair." A polite smile graced his features like second nature. "Over there," The Librarian sighed, pointing to the far side of the room. Sam gave a nod of thanks to the man before moving past the desk and toward the isle of shelves.
Systematically, he browsed through the shelves, searching for his desired books when he spotted them; Hebrew Myths: The Book of Genesis and, The Hebrew Goddess. Snatching both books off the shelf, Sam retreated to a vacant table across from the bookshelf and began to search through the book for any information he could be find. A while later, Dean entered the library, following the directions his brother gave him over the phone. Instinctively, his eyes scoped out the space of the lobby as he approached the entry way of the history and mythology section. It only took him a few minutes to find Sam, hunched over a table on the other side of the room. Dean joined him at the table with a frustrated sigh. Sam shot him a questioning look. "Something wrong?" He asked. "Yes," Dean groused, playing with the ballpoint pen in his pants pocket. "Parking sucks downtown."
Sam hid the smile threatening to spread across his face behind the book he was reading. Slouching in the chair, Dean picked up a book and started to skim through it. "So, did you find anything?" He inquired. Sam shrugged his shoulders, lowering the book back onto the table. "Well, Lilith is of Semitic origin. She is often described as Adam's first wife, before Eve. When she refused to lie beneath Adam, she fled the garden of Eden across the desert and headed for the Red Sea. She gave birth to over a hundred demon children; God sent his angels, Senoy, Sansenoy, and Semangelof to command that she return to Adam. She refused and her children were killed, drowned in the sea. The last one was stricken with a sickness, which much pretty entitled it to a slow and painful death, so as to sow the seeds of resentment in Lilith toward her last child. Later myths describe Lilith as consort of Lucifer, a demoness who frightens or preys upon women and children and lures men away from their wives in erotic dreams like an incubus, devouring their souls. Her arrival is often signified by as "being carried by the wind", which is how she spreads disease and plagues," Sam finished.
"Naturally," The elder Winchester mused. Sam gave a shrug. "Naturally," He echoed.
Dean sat upright in the chair, closing the book he was flipping through, processing all the information Sam just dumped on him. So a bunch of college students were going to raise the consort of the devil, just to get laid by the sounds of it. Wonderful. "Does it say how we can kill it?" Dean said. Sam Regarded his brother for a moment then looked down at the book again. His eyes scanned the page twice over and one more time for extra measure, finally he looked up from the book and said, "Nope. There's nothing." Dean was unable to keep his eyebrows from raising. "Nothing?" He repeated. Sam nodded. "Yeah, no apparent weaknesses, not a thing use against it," Sam said. "I still have to check the internet for any information, but, I think we're just gonna have to assume this is just one of those demons we can't kill, just send back or keep from getting out of hell."
Dean frowned at the very idea of such a assumption. Exorcising a demon and sending it back to hell just meant it would be some time before it return to this plane of existence, it wasn't permanent. Dean preferred his demon's dead and non-existent, but without a fully loaded colt or something like it, that was an option that simply wasn't open or available to them. Scratching the back of his head, Dean smiled mirthlessly. "Great, I suppose now all we have to worry about is disguises for the Frat House," Dean sighed, rising from the chair. Sam could only nod in agreement.
(TBC)