~*~ Chapter 4 - Salem, Massechusetts ~*~
Not knowing anything about America, I couldn't really judge whether the town of Salem was big, small, remarkable or just ordinary. I didn't comment on anything as we drove, as opposed to Chris, who was like a dog that had never been on a walk. She wanted to enter every shop and touch every statue, much to Dean's annoyance. Everyone had, by this time, merely resorted to ignoring her.
"Ok, so where were the killings?" Dean asks.
Luckily, I had seen photos of the houses while doing my research. "The first was in Thorndike street and the other in Ames street."
"And you assume that I know this town's streets off by heart?"
"Well, you two are the Americans!"
"Well, then, where the hell were you, in that other dimension, if not in the US?"
"SA!"
"What?"
"South Africa, dumbass."
"You mean-"
"The southern tip of Africa, yes, dumbass."
"Don't call me friggin-"
"Dean," Sam says warningly. Dean glares at his brother, but otherwise says nothing. I smirk.
After a few minutes of searching, we finally stop in front of the house of the first victim. Just as I'm about to get out of the car, Dean stops me.
"Hey, no kids in the grown-ups' workplace," he tells me.
"I'm the one who found us the case!" I say, outraged.
"Yes, you're the one who gave me more work, so there's no way that you're getting your cookies," he replies sourly, "Stay in the damn car."
I sink back into the seat with my arms crossed just as Sam gets out and, after an apologetic look, follows Dean to the front door.
"Dick," Chris mumbles.
We wait impatiently for the two men to finish interrogating whoever else lives in the house. When they come back, they look fairly flustered, but confused mostly. Dean has a hint of sourness in his expression.
"Well, you were right," Sam tells me as he gets in the car, "This is weird. His wife's the only other person in the house. She said she saw the whole thing. There was water leaking from a crack in the wall. When her husband went to check it, hands came out of the wall and pulled him inside the sewage pipes. The police didn't want to hear a word of all that, of course."
"But how would an overweight person fit into the sewage pipes?" I ask.
"He wouldn't," Dean says, "Not in one piece, anyway."
"So, what do you think it was?" I ask.
"No way to tell," Sam replies, "No sulfur, EMF or hex bags. But it's something that likes water."
Chris pulls a face in disgust, and I just stay silent. This is, after all, what we signed up for when we made our wish.
"Time for victim number two," Dean says, "Ames street, did you say?"
"This time I wanna come with," I say.
"Nope."
"Come on, man!" Chris begs, "You can just say that you're babysitting."
"Yes, because then the survivor would be totally up for spilling the beans on what happened," Dean says sarcastically.
"Ok, how about this," Sam tells me, "After we question the second victim's relatives, I'll go make you guys a few fake ID's and, should there be another victim, you can come with us."
"Really?" Chris asks brightly while Dean glares at his brother. "That's so cool!"
"Thanks," I say.
Chris and I are left in the car while they enter the house of the second victim. Here, there is still yellow tape surrounding the building.
"Why don't we just sneak in?" Chris asks.
"Because then they'll trust us even less," I say, "You know Sam. As long as we behave, he'll treat us like he would anyone else."
She stays quiet, but with a sour face. When the two brothers return, they come back with the same story. Only this time, it was the victim's nine year old daughter who saw the whole thing, so it was a little more difficult to get the story out of her. There was a crack in the wall with water leaking out of it. Her father wanted to cover it up with a cloth, then hands burst through the wall and pulled him inside.
We book two rooms at the nearest motel and, after taking a few different pictures of each Chris and myself, they leave the motel again to print the ID's. Sam was kind enough to let me borrow his laptop again. When I sit down at the desk, Chris falls down on the bed.
"Hey, get your ass over here and help me," I say irritably.
"Why?"
"Because you wanted this, too!" I say.
"But if we crack the case too quickly, then there won't be enough time for Dean to fall for me!"
"He's ten years older than you!"
"Age is just a number!"
"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes and opening the laptop. I surf the web for almost an hour, going through everything the town has to offer about its own history. Eventually, Sam and Dean return, and they hand us our ID's along with a pair of very professional-looking black female outfits.
"Ew," Chris says, "What the hell is this?"
"A suit, for women," Dean says, "Most of your ID's say that you're FBI, so you'll need these.
"Find anything?" Sam asks me as Chris continues looking at the outfits in disgust.
"Not really," I say, "The only thing weird in this town is the witch trials in the late 1600's, but you said that there weren't any hex bags in the houses. There wasn't enough time for me to dig deeper."
"Well, evidently, it's something that likes to travel by water," Sam says.
"So?" Dean snaps, "This town is surrounded by water. There's a lake nearby and a beach."
"Dean, you're not helping," Sam says.
"Whatever, I'm going to my room," he says, rolling his eyes and leaving. Chris trails after him, but I just roll my eyes.
"What do you think?" I ask Sam as he sits down.
"All I can say for sure is that we're not dealing with anything witchy or to do with demons," he says, shaking his head slowly.
"Have you ever considered ... no, nevermind," I say, feeling stupid for bringing it up.
"Spit it out," he says.
"Well ... mermaids?" I ask. There is an instant change is his expression, so to keep myself from looking like an idiot, I go on, "The most famous story is that they're beautiful women who lure sailors into the water to eat them. But there is lore about them all over the world: Babylon, Syria, China, Japan, Greece, Rome, Europe, and each place has a different story. Just ... consider it."
"You make a valid point, but there's never been tale of a Hunter encountering a mermaid," he says. I can see that he thinks that I'm insane.
"Well, there was never tale about Hunters encountering angels, either, yet you're friends with Cas, you were tricked by Gabriel. Maybe it's something similar. Gabriel pretended to be a Trickster for several years. Maybe there's been merfolk all along, they've just disguised themselves all this time."
He gives that famous Sammy-Thinks-You're-Insane smile before saying, "Thank you for all your effort. I'll see you in the morning."
I decide not to press the matter and make a further fool of myself. Sam takes his computer and leaves. Just as he opens the door, Chris enters with a sour face. Sam closes the door behind him just as I get up and fall down on my bed. Chris does the same.
"Where were you?" I ask.
"With Dean."
"Are you out of your mind?" I snort, "You know him."
"Just go to sleep. I don't wanna talk about it."
I smirk, but say nothing. I close my eyes to try and sleep, but just as I start to drift off, Sam bursts back into the door.
"Two other people have been killed," he tells us, "Put your suits on and meet us downstairs."
"Ok," I say, and Sam gets out.
Overcome with excitement, I get up and start putting on the suit as fast as I can. Chris is very dispirited as she puts her on I pile my hair up in a bun and Chris just pins her fringe out of her eyes. We clip our ID's onto the collars and hurry downstairs.
"Women," Dean says, shaking his head while we walk to the car, "You know, we've been waiting for you down there for almost two minutes."
"Not my fault," I snap, glaring at Chris.
"Wait," Sam tells me, "One of the murders isn't far from here. Dean and Chris will go to the other. You and I can walk."
I nod, and we start walking down the road. One glance told me that Chris was all too glad to go alone with Dean.
"How did you know about the vics?" I ask.
"Cas came to us to tell us that Fred's doing well," he says, "Then he heard it on the police radio. He just told us about the vics and then he zapped off somewhere again."
"Doesn't it piss you off when he does that?" I ask.
"In the beginning, it did, but you kinda grow used to it," he says. We walk for a few more blocks until blue and red lights come into few. We walk toward the house surrounded by yellow tape just as two men carry a body on a stretcher toward an ambulance.
Sam fancily opens up an ID book and tells one of the paramedics, "Special Agent Lee, this is Special Agent Clyde. Mind if we take a look at the body?"
The man nods and lifts the cloth covering the body. It is a young woman, possibly in her late twenties. There is an ugly blue and purple bruise all over her neck and the side of her head. I fight the urge to pull a face in disgust. It looked as though her skull was cracked inward right in front of the ear.
"This caused a lot of internal bleeding on the brain," the paramedic says, "We were already too late when we got here."
"Ok, thank you," Sam says.
I follow him up a small flight of stairs, bend under the yellow tape that Sam lifts up for me, and approach a few police officers. Sam introduces our fake indentities again.
"What happened?" he asks when he finished.
"Don't really know," he says, "Layla and Jane Jefferson lived here, along with Jane's seven year old daughter. Jane is missing, and when we got here, Layla was lying on the floor with an ugly bruise on her head, right underneath a mother of a hole inside the wall and into the pipes. Doesn't make any sense."
"And the girl called the police?" Sam asks. The officer nods.
"Yep. According to the neighbours, she's always been obsessed with mermaids. She told us that's what came out of the wall. But after that, she wouldn't say another word. She just hides in the corner of the upstairs hallway."
"Would you mind if we take a look inside?" Sam asks. I glare at him deliberately, but he just shakes his head once.
"Go ahead, but I doubt you'll find anything you want to see."
I follow Sam to the front door.
"What do you think could have done something like that?" I ask, referring to the bruise on the woman's head.
"There are so many possibilities, but I'm scared to start counting them off," he replies.
_
A/N: All the events of this case is in the Supernatural dimension, so there would be no record of them in ours. Just so that some loose ends are cleared out.
Don't forget to R&R please!
XD