This is a double shift day. There will be one more upload today: From the Ashes, chapter 6.
"Technicolor Wishes & Hi-Def Dreams"
6. And Fighters
When they came back out of the restaurant, Sam looked to Puck, silently wondering what that was about, he imagined. "It's alright, she's just shy," Puck gave as an excuse, which earned him a shove from Rachel. Under any other circumstances he might have been ticked off by that, but in this case it just might help to sell them as who they were meant to be. "Good news is I know where we're headed," he held up the newspaper clipping as he walked up to the car, reaching for the driver's side door until he remembered they were in yet another city he didn't know… wherever they were. "Actually, why don't you drive… I need to… digest," he patted his stomach, moving around to get in passenger side. After a moment or two, Rachel had gotten in the backseat and Sam took the wheel, and they were off.
He realized that, of all places, this might be the one where he wouldn't want to come off too odd or out of character. For all he knew, he might get the other hunter thinking that his brother had been possessed or something. As much as he was a watcher of the show, he didn't remember every last detail about the dos and don'ts of hunting ghosts and other entities. And that was only half the problem, because on top of that, for all the things he didn't retain, he did know that they were earlier on in the show's run. It had been a while since he'd seen those, but even then… He might get some things mixed up and give himself away. This could all be the end of the road, right here.
As prompted by Puck, Rachel had relayed the story from the newspaper, which they'd read through together back in the restaurant. A man had committed suicide, in his house, by hanging himself… right in the window, so everyone could see him. The police had been called, attempted to enter the house, but claimed they couldn't even approach it, that as soon as they set foot on the first step, such a great sense of dread filled them that they couldn't go any further. Others had tried, others had gotten as far as the top of the steps, but none had made it to the door. It had now been over a week, and the body remained.
"That can't be good for property value…" Puck commented, getting himself a kick in the back from Rachel, who whacked at his seat. "Hey, if you dent something, you're walking home, it's going to be a long one, so think about it," he pointed at her, and she raised her hands in 'surrender.' When she sat back, putting her hands in her pockets, she frowned.
"Know anything else about this guy?" Sam asked, and after the silence had stretched…
"Hey, Jo, I think he's talking to you," Puck spoke up, and she blinked.
"Sorry, I should have… said something…" In her pockets she had felt something, paper, and when she'd pulled it out she saw it was another piece of newspaper, or at least a print out of an older article. It talked about the ongoing search for a ten-year-old girl who had gone missing a year prior to the day the article had been published, which was already ten years gone. There was an address scribbled there, too, same street, and by the door number she would guess right across the street. They'd have a view right at the window where the body was hanging. Rachel had passed the sheet to Puck, who read it and felt his stomach churn. The girl in the photo was about his little sister's age.
"I think I can see where this is going… Little girl ghost… Pissed little girl ghost."
"He killed her, didn't he?" Rachel spoke up.
"They never found her body, how much do you want to bet we could find it if we searched his house. She's had ten years to make him pay… Apparently he finally had enough," he looked back to the first article, about the body in the window.
"He'll be in there, too," Sam nodded.
"It's their fight, they don't want anyone else getting in the way," Puck agreed.
When they'd arrived at the house, it was easy to tell which one it was. A makeshift wall had been erected to hide the window from sight, as close to it as they could get. Houses with a view on the 'infected' house all had their shutters and curtains drawn, no doubt for fear of accidentally glimpsing the body, or the house itself, despite the wall.
"I don't want to see," Rachel had pulled Puck back as Sam went on ahead. She looked spooked, and he could guess why she'd never seen the show.
"You don't have to go in," he insisted.
"Yes, I do," she told him, nodding firmly. "How are we going to get in though, if no one can go near?"
"My guess is it won't feel good, but we know what's really going on, and if we focus on getting the job done, then we can jump right out of here," he tried to get her motivated, which seemed to work.
"How do we do this?"
"A little salt, a little fire…" he shrugged.
"But she's just a little girl," Rachel begged.
"She hasn't been a little girl in a long time. She's been here so long, that's not who she is anymore," he explained as best as he knew. Just then, Sam came walking back their way, looking conflicted. "Seriously?" Puck frowned at him. "Are you seriously going to wuss out on me right now?"
"Well I don't see you walking up there," Sam turned on him.
"I was just preparing Jo here for what we're about to…"
"Who says I need preparing," she cut past them, stomping off toward the house. Puck watched her go, smirking to himself.
"Alright, you heard the lady," he tapped Sam on the shoulder before going after her.
TO BE CONTINUED (NEXT TUESDAY)