Chapter 4 - The Seal of the Left Hand Path

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I think this is our best chapter so far! Hope you enjoy it!

Thorncrown Chapel was unlike any other church that the Winchester brothers had ever seen. It was absolutely beautiful. Tall and narrow, made almost entirely out of glass, it stood out magnificently in it's completely forested environment. The bright, Arkansas sun illuminated the structure, making it look almost divine itself.

As if this grand chapel was not fascinating enough, Christ of the Ozarks, a 60-foot-tall tourist attraction of Jesus that never ceases to astound newcomers in Eureka Springs, could clearly be seen through the treetops of the surrounding forest.

Sam and Dean Winchester stood on the gray stone path that lead up to the chapel, staring at the giant-sized Jesus in awe as mourners for the Jason Mendez funeral walked pass them and into the chapel for the funeral services.

"Astounding, isn't it?" said a kind but obviously curious voice from behind them.

Turning around, Sam nodded at the reverend. "Yes...it is," he said politely.
"Excuse me gentlemen, but are you here for the wake?"
When both brothers nodded, the reverend continued, "Then, pardon me for intruding on your solitude during this period of mourning, but we must enter the chapel now. It is time."
"Thank you, Reverend--?"
"McDaniels."
"Thank you, Reverend McDaniels, excuse us," Sam replied and turned with Dean, to head towards the chapel's entrance.

"Okay, I so don't like that guy," Dean muttered quietly.
"By the way he acted, seems like he might know the family," Sam said ignoring Dean's comment.
"Well, it is a small town," Dean agreed.

"I think he's figured out that we don't know Jason," Sam replied, momentarily glancing back at the staunch minister as they entered the church. He stopped when Dean jutted his arm out in front of him. He motioned towards one pew in particular. "Look who showed up," Dean said venomously.
Sam gulped as he looked over at a solemn and questionable-looking Christian Callaghan.
"This isn't good," said Sam quietly, he could not help but stare perplexedly at the back of Callaghan's head.
"Yeah, thanks for pointing that one out," Dean said irritably as he took the lead, walking up the chapel aisle. Sam followed close behind and they took seats two rows behind Callaghan, near the back of the church.

In the front, a woman sat in a chair, crying; no doubt this was Anita Mendez, the deceased's mother. She looked like she was in her fifties at least, wrinkles clearly visible under her black veil. Dean could not take his eyes off of the tears that slowly fell from her eyes. His heart burned with a numb, sympathetic, sorrow.

Sam wasn't paying as much attention to the mourners as he was studying Callaghan. The man was hunched over with his hands cupping his face. He was muttering some incoherent words to himself that Sam could swear sounded like a prayer. Which could very well be the actions of a guilty man...

A sudden eruption of crying from behind him pulled Sam out of his train of thought. Turning his head around, he noticed Brian, the heckler from the birthday party the day before. He looked drunk again and had begun weeping on a bench beside a woman just outside the church entrance.

"Hush..." the woman consoled. Sam recognized the woman comforting Brian. She was from the party too and was the one that had urged Brian to go up on stage for one of Callaghan's last magic tricks. Sam strained to continue listening to the conversation outside. "It's okay, Bri. We gotta be strong for Juan and Anita now..."

To his left, Dean was still staring at Mrs. Mendez. His heart clenched up and he filled with hatred when he saw Callaghan rise from his seat and walk up to speak to the grieving mother. Who was he, a cold-blooded murder, to do such a thing?!

"Sam," he said roughly, trying to gain his little brother's attention.
"What?" Sam still did not turn around to look, his eyes were glued to Brian. He had just noticed the hidden shape of a gun tucked into the back of his pants, hidden by his dress shirt. He was just about to stand up when Dean stopped him in his tracks.

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean whispered angrily, hitting him in the arm. "He's talking to the mother."
Sam turned to look, sure enough, there stood Callaghan next to Mrs. Mendez, talking quietly.
"We can't do anything, Dean," he said, not being able to get the bad feeling he had about Brian's presence off his mind.

"Yeah, well, I can," muttered Dean reaching for the gun in his waistband.

"Don't be moronic, Dean. We still don't know if he's the murderer," Sam countered, stopping his reach. He turned back to look at Brian, but Brian was no longer in sight.

Panic arose in Sam. He shifted his body to look outside the other windows of the church and immediately saw Brian. He was heading up Magnetic Mountain, toward the statue Christ of the Ozarks.

Out of gut instinct, Sam felt that he needed to follow the man. So, instantly, he stood up and, without a single word to Dean, headed through a side door and into the woods.

"Sammy?" Dean asked as he watched his brother quickly walk outside and off the path into the forest. "Damnit!" He muttered to himself, before taking off after him.

As soon as Sam was off the path, he broke into a sprint. With every footstep, his anxiety over the situation increased. Never before in his life had he been so grateful for his long legs.

Dean was struggling somewhat to keep up and to figure out exactly where Sam was heading. Once he came to a slight rising hill in the forest ruff, he saw exactly what Sam was up to. He was heading towards the feet of Jesus of the Ozarks, where a man stood near the edge of the cliff, a gun pointed to his head.

"Brian!" Sam was screaming at the top of his lungs. His face flushed with sweat and tears of aggravation as sharp branches scraped across his face and arms.
"Brian! Brian, wait!"
Turning his head around, Brian saw the tall, brown-haired man running at him. The young man looked somewhat familiar, but Brian could, in no way place where he'd seen him before and was not in the mood to either.

"Leave me," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "I must do this now."

"What?" Sam panted coming to halt in front of him. He bent over slightly, trying to catch his breath without having much success. He was roughly fifteen feet away from Brian and the edge that lead to the jagged rocks over two miles below.

"Brian, listen to me, you don't want to do this...Just- just give me the gun alright?"

Brian looked over at him, the only sense of humanity left flourished only within the deepest depths of his eyes. They seemed to be crying out for help, to be saved, rescued. "I do not know. But, I have to."

Sam nodded tirelessly. "Yeah, I know, but this isn't you, Brian. Someone's forcing you to do this."

Dean finally caught up with Sam and stopped about five feet away from him, not daring to talk. These kind of matters are where Sam excelled.

"I--I have to. I have to jump. I have to leave now," Brian said again apparently deciding to change his mode of suicide while looking back out over the wide range of the mountain. He turned back to Sam, but this time, his expression had changed completely. An eerie smile crept across his face as he slowly pointed the gun at Sam. "You must leave now," he whispered only just loud enough for Sam to hear.

"You!" Dean suddenly yelled when he saw the magician, Callaghan, run up from behind him, eyes full of terror.

"No--you don't understand," he pleaded, putting his hands up defensively when Dean pulled out his gun at lightning speed, "this is insane, every one, every time--"

"Every time what?!" Dean spat, anger still relevant, but confusion, too, erupting from him now. He quickly glanced back at the situation behind him then back at the magician.

"Eh-Every time I get near one of them at a party....They always kill themselves...I don't know--This can't be true--It's---It's impossible!"

Dean looked at him curiously for a moment before replying. Meanwhile, behind him, Sam's calm but earnest pleas to convince Brian not to kill himself continued.

"You were about to say something about Charles Hayworth yesterday, your mentor, what was it?"
"No--no, you don't understand, Charles would never seriously, and--"
"What was it?!" Dean yelled viciously. When the magician said nothing, Dean lost his patience, "People are dying here, Callaghan, that man is about to take his own life! Tell me what's going on here now!" He cocked his gun.

"Okay...Okay. There's this necklace," said Callaghan breathlessly, glancing worriedly between Dean, Sam, and Brian. "It seems harmless...But, it sounds crazy, but this necklace Hayworth owns, it has a symbol on it that I have seen before. I mean, I recognize it, from magic books, real ones. Pagan magic. Black magic. Evil. It is supposed to represent the path to Satan and the use of dark magic. I think it was called the Seal of the Left Hand Path or something."

"No s***?" Dean looked at him quizzically, but somehow, deep down, he knew that the magician was telling the truth, he lowered his gun.

"Seal of the Left Hand Path Sam! Sammy, did you hear that?"

But, Sam had not. Just as Dean turned around, his ears rang with the sound of a gun shot and Callaghan's loud cries. Sam tackled Brian and the gun fired off once more into the distance as the two slammed into the monument and crash-landed on the grass just below Giant Jesus' feet.
Rushing over to them, Dean helped Sam stand up. "What the hell were you thinking?!" he shouted, fear overcoming his other emotions.
"Brian--" Sam said, ignoring his brother and addressing the other man. "Are you okay?"

Numbly, the man nodded, still laying on the ground he looked to be in a great deal of both shock and pain and yet he seemed otherwise to be back to his normal, drunken state.

Suddenly, from off in the distance, the woman who had comforted Brian came running, with much difficulty, in her high-heels. "Brian! Oh God, Brian!" Tears were streaming down her face, as she rushed passed both the magician and the brothers and dove down next to her boyfriend.

"I heard gun fire. Are you okay?"
"Babe..." Brian murmured, still in shock. "Gotta go home, baby..."
"Yes," she agreed tearfully. "This is just too much, isn't it? I knew we shouldn't'a come here. Too many deaths, too soon...We should go home, you need to rest." She helped her boyfriend stand up, and glanced over at Sam, a look of both curiosity and appreciation on her face. "Thank-you."
No one said a word to them as the couple headed back to the chapel.

Shaking nervously, the magician walked over to the brothers. "Do you really think Charles could be behind all this madness?"

"Don't know," Dean replied. "But, it's our job to find out and stop whatever is."

"Is there any way I can help?" Callaghan asked, almost hopefully.

Dean shook his head. "No, not really--"

"Yes," a still breathless Sam intervened. "Follow them home." He motioned to Brian and his girlfriend who were still walking down the mountain. "Just be discreet about it, make sure they get home alright."

Callaghan nodded, seeming almost grateful for the opportunity to help out. "Sure thing."

He began to walk away, and then halted, and turned around halfway to face the brothers. "If you need any other help, you know my number..." With that he too began descending down the small mountaintop.

Once the brothers had caught their breath, they headed back towards Thorncrown Chapel and to the Impala parked just outside on the gravelly road.

Before Dean started the engine, he took one last glance at the Christ of the Ozarks.
"Jesus, that thing is huge," he said, winking at Sam with a grin on his face. Stifling back a laugh, Sam sighed and closed the door to the Impala.

They both knew where they needed to go next - the library.

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**
Like most libraries, the Eureka Springs public library was a paradise for Sam Winchester, but for his brother, Dean, libraries were a source of boredom and infantile dislike. "So, when we gonna go?"

"Sam looked curiously at his brother. "You're so immature, we literally just got here. Just hang tight, alright?"

"To what?" Dean sighed, pulling up a chair by the computer Sam had chosen. Dean had always hated libraries. Hell, he hated reading altogether, but, because his career path required so much research, he gradually got used to reading so much. Not that that made him hate libraries any less.

Sam pulled out the card that Mrs. Stokes had given them earlier. "First, we should do a background check on this Charles Hayworth guy, see if he has any priors, or if there's anything else suspicious." Sam typed the name into the search box and hit the enter key. "Let's see here...Born in Illinois, high school education only...no priors, nothing I'd classify as suspicious at all really. Well, except that it doesn't mention that he plays a magician at kids' parties...And that he died in 1986."

"Well, that isn't suspicious at all," Dean said sarcastically. Sam rolled his eyes.

"That man was corporeal, Dean. The only physically apt undead I've ever heard of are vampires and maybe zombies," Sam informed his brother, voice full of both worry and frustration.

"What about that necklace Callaghan mentioned? That black magic stuff he blabbed on about. Could that be it? Some kind of witchcraft or something...?" Dean suggested, genuinely trying to be helpful now.

"Good thinking..." Sam nodded, putting his concentration face on. "Okay, I'll research the necklace, you go find some books on like magicians, maybe wizards."

"Wizards?" Dean laughed. "Like Harry Potter?"

Sam glared at him. "Just go find some damn books."

"Fine," Dean said, standing up and walking away. "Was always more of a Gandalf fan myself."
As he walked away, he studied the signs posted on the sides of the bookcases. One, categorized as "Philosophy Religion and Mythology," stood out. He turned the corner, scanning the book titles and took his time to pick out several books. He then made his way to a clearing in the library where several tables were set up for studying.

Sighing, he sat down and opened the first book on the top of his stack, "The Ways of Wizard Kind," and began to read. Dean could not help but laugh as soon as he began reading the introduction. He was willing to believe a lot of crazy stuff, but he refused to believe that there was a parallel dimension created just for wizards. Setting the book aside, he picked up another one "Magick: World of Hidden Secrets" and began to read again. Unlike Sam, Dean did not find reading a fascinating pastime and, having gone days without a peaceful night's sleep, it was not long before he found himself yawning incurably.

Trying desperately to stay awake, he propped the book up and held his head up by placing it in the palm of his free hand, but, his efforts were useless. His eyes lazily closed shut, and soon his hand gave way. His head slumped onto the table, knocking the book over and he fell into a deep slumber.

"Dean!" the voice was recognizable, it was Sammy's alright, but it was much deeper than it was in the other dreams. Not like it is now, but still deeper. "Dean! Dean! Wake-up Dean! We gotta go!"

The black nothingness faded away, and Dean's eyes opened.

He lifted his head up from the kitchen table and looked around. He was face to face with a terrified-looking Sam, who appeared to be somewhere in his early teens. "Dad called, Dean. He's in trouble. We need to get going," was all Sam said before turning around and heading over to a bed where several guns were sprawled out.

"Where is he?" Dean found himself asking, without even meaning to.

"Near the woods. He needs our help," Sam replied instantly. Dean could sense the intense worry in his voice. "Said to wake you."

Dean felt his mind racing. That was odd for their Dad to do, he rarely ever called for help...

"Are you sure it was him, Sammy?"

"Of course. I know Dad's voice, stupid," Sam tossed an empty gun at him. "Come on, let's move it."

Finally standing up, Dean loaded his gun and grabbed another one before following Sam out of the motel room. They were in the forest as soon as they walked outside, only a narrow gravel road separated the rundown motel and a large patch of unruly forest that covered up each side of the trail.

"He said he'd be walking up the path soon, that something might be following him..." Sam informed. He was a few steps ahead of the older Winchester and cautiously, almost tip-toed as he walked. Dean grinned, he suddenly remembered Sammy's awkward, gangly years in which he was always jumpy and nervous. Hasn't really changed all that much...

"There he is!" Sam's voice broke into Dean's thoughts, as he, without notice, began sprinting farther down the road to an injured John Winchester.

Dean began to walk after him, but was hesitant, something was off about this picture. Something deep down within him did not feel right. It was something in his father's eyes as he allowed Sammy to glance at his arm wound and--

Dean suddenly pushed hard off the ground and ran as fast as he possibly could towards Sam.

The thing that was John Winchester grinned at Dean as he approached. He stabbed Sam hard in the stomach then let go of the knife, forcing the younger Winchester to crumple into a heap on the ground.
"Two down, one to go, Dean," he laughed, aiming a pistol at Dean's head.

Shapeshifter! Dean's mind cried out. He kept running and held up his shotgun, aiming it at the look alike of John and firing it with deadly accuracy right at the skinwalker's heart. He dove as he shot, coming to a sudden halt and scraping his body against the gravel on the ground. He cautiously looked up and saw that the figure of John Winchester was dead. Something Dean was all too used to seeing. But, that was not what mattered now. He hoisted himself up, and went over to Sam, who was still laying on the ground. The knife was still half-way lodged within his stomach, and the blood was seeping out fast.

"Damnit, Sammy..." Dean whispered sadly, feeling tears form in his eyes. This felt all too real!

He reached down and picked the skinny boy's body up, slowly walking back to the motel room with him. Freezing cold rain began to drizzle from the gray clouds in the night sky overhead.

Once inside, Dean gingerly laid Sammy's dying body down on the couch in front of the window. Life was visibly leaving his little brother's face and the cold afterlife beyond threatened to secure it's hold on him. "Sammy," Dean cried as he grabbed a blanket and tried to mop up some of the blood.

"I think I'm gonna have to pull this out," he indicated the knife, "I think I have to try, at least..."

With that, he reached down and with tender effort pulled the knife out from Sam's insides. It made a sickening noise, and Dean had to hold back his own vomit as he watched poor Sammy's face contort in agonizing pain that he could not express verbally.

He took the rest of the blanket and wrapped it around Sam's stomach, watching it soak his blood up far too fast.

"Sammy," Dean cried again, "Sammy, I--"

The phone rang, and fear crept through Dean, mind, body, and soul. He glanced between the phone and Sam before getting up to answer it. This time, he said nothing, and only waited for whatever was on the other side to speak.

"Dean," the voice said once more. It was just as eerie as the first time Dean had heard it, but, this time, he could hear it loud and clear. "Dean Winchester, if you do not stop what is going on--It is your brother who will have to pay the price, just as he is paying now," Dean turned around, and looked down at the younger Sam. The boy's face was now the color of sheer death. "It's the necklace, Dean," the voice continued. "It holds all his powers. You have to destroy it, Dean."

Dean took in a deep breath, "Who's powers?"

"His real name is Daniel Moses. He has been using my good name as his alias. He is using his powers, the powers of a shaman, to capture souls and place them in the necklace forever."

Dean's heart skipped a beat. "Why? What does he get out of it?"

"Power. The more souls he captures, the more power he is bestowed. He gains their life energy," the voice said, mysteriously. "He will take all he can and he will never stop. He started with mine and discovered that it was far too difficult, took too much time. So he began again, this time with children. There minds are---weaker, easier to get control of and to take over. But he has gained more power since then and more control over his abilities...."

"How do you know all this?" Dean asked cautiously, not yet trusting the voice. "Who are you?"

There was a long pause before the reply came.
"I am the real Charles Hayworth. Sadly, I was the one that trained that imposter to become a shaman, he was my aprentice...Due to what I once was, I am able to reach somewhat beyond these chains that bind my soul it is also because of that that I know such things. I, like the souls of Julius Stokes, Jason Mendez and countless others, am stuck within the powers of the necklace where we are trapped for all eternity. That is unless..."

Dean waited impatiently for a few seconds and then said with great frustration, "Unless what?"

"Unless you can destroy the necklace, and set all of the souls free. If you don't, your brother will surely---"
Static and familiar clicking noises cut him off.

"What?" Dean asked, his voice pained.

The line suddenly went dead.

"Wait, no...Wait!" Dean called out, but decided that it was pointless.

He hung up the phone, and slowly walked back over to the younger, dying dream-version of Sam. "I don't want to see this," he murmured, as he watched teenage Sam breathe his last breath. "I can't watch this..."

Suddenly, Sam sneezed.

"Ach-oo!" the young, wavy-haired brunette looked up from her economics textbook and blushed at the handsome man on the other side of the table who had suddenly jerked awake.

"God! Bless you!" he exclaimed, his mood quickly changing from anger into flirtation, as an
alluring grin spread across his face.

"Thank you," the woman replied, smiling as she got up and left the table.

He was just about to call her back when Sam took her seat, a book in his hand. "Dean, I found something." Dean looked grumpily at his brother, but didn't say a word.

"The power this Hayworth guy seems to have, it's all in that necklace that
Callaghan told us about," Sam explained to him. "See, this necklace it can--"

"Capture souls," Dean finished for him.

"How did you know that?" Sam asked, astonished at the very idea that his brother had obtained some bit of mythological knowledge he had not yet known about.

"Sheesh, give me some credit," Dean said defensively, trying to hide his amusement at Sam's confusion. His demeanor quickly changed to serious again though as he remembered the vision of a younger, dying Sam. "We need to get over to Hayworth's pronto."

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