Texas Style Haunting

Disclaimer: Nothing much changes, I still don't own the boys or the show, I just get to play with them and send them home.


Sorry it has taken so long to write the next update and get it posted, I have been flat out with the last couple of assessments for my Diploma, thankfully, I have now finished them, and with only 1 class to go next Monday, I have finished my Diploma. Which means that I am a free woman and can write to my heart's content for the next few months until uni starts in March next year! WOOHOO!


CHAPTER 7

Sam came to a halt hiding behind some large trees but close enough for him to get a good look at the scene in front of him. His stomach churned when he saw his vision coming to fruition, on the altar lay Dean, naked and unmoving, behind him the spectre of the Pastor floated as the last of the preparations were made for the ceremony.

Sam only had a small window of opportunity to save Dean before they perform the rites and he would lose his brother forever.

Swallowing down on the pain and rage fuelling his need to save Dean Sam tried to think this through clearly what would Dad do? Would have done? He needed a diversion ... in the distance he could hear the laughter of some young kids heading their way, this could be it, balancing on his good leg Sam tossed a few small stones in the direction of the voices and then turned back to watch. The shrouded men moved away from the shrine to the Pastor to investigate the approaching unwanted guests. Dragging his damaged leg slightly Sam managed to get to the altar without anyone catching him.

'Dean, Dean come on bro gotta get you out of here.' Sam whispered shaking his brother's shoulder lightly.

'I serve the Pastor.' Dean said tonelessly, his eyes glassy and unfocused; he smiled up at Sam, 'are you here for the ceremony?'

'No Dude, I need you to listen to me.' Sam said glancing around them he tried to lift Dean off the table but his brother lay quietly and unmoving a strange smile plastered on his face.

'Dean you have to help me.'

'I cannot go anywhere, I am the Chosen one,' Dean murmured closing his eyes, 'so tired.'

'Fuck!' Sam quickly made a circle of rock salt around the altar and pulled the holy water and rosary from his pocket. Placing the beads and cross on Dean's chest he dipped his fingers in the blessed water and flicked it over Dean, praying whatever was possessing him would leave.

'Did you really think that would fool us into leaving our sacrifice alone?' the Pastor laughed as he appeared inside the circle of salt, 'really I thought that you would have been slightly more imaginative than the other so-called hunters who have tried and failed.'

'Just getting started Preacher, but I need my brother there,' Sam said watching the spectre carefully, okay salt has no effect, holy water next. Pulling the small vial of blessed water out of his pocket, he flicked the lid and sprayed it at the ghost. The water boiled on contact causing strange looking blisters appear on the face and arms and made it a corporeal body, 'bring it on little man.'

'Thought you're meant to be a man of God.'

'Yeah well depends on which God you're talking about,' The Pastor grinned widely, the blisters wept a thick black tar like substance as he floated closer to Sam., 'tell me young hunter what are you willing to give up to save this life?'

'My own life,' Sam replied without hesitation.

'Interesting thought,' the preacher nodding his head as he floated back to the altar and stared down at Dean, 'my sacrifice is the perfect vessel. Strong, young, healthy I can live again.'

'It's not your decision, or your choice,' Sam argued hoping to confuse the spirit with logic, 'you died, your time has past. Let Dean go he has his life ahead of him.'

'You think that you're clever don't you,' the spirit said, 'got everything sorted out.'

'No, not at all but I do know that you have to accept that you're dead and pass over. There is no shame in passing onto the better ahead of you.'

'Do-gooder gobbly-gook ... you sound like my wife. Wait you've been talking to her haven't you.'

'What makes you think that?' Sam asked backing away slightly, and hoping that the preacher would follow him away from the altar and Dean.

'She tries that trick on all those who I choose as my vessel,' the preacher snapped, 'even alive she was a nag and a shrew.'

'Is that why you killed her?'

'I didn't kill her ... I freed her.'

'Semantics Preacher, ' Sam said looking up at the sky he noticed the first rays of the sunrise streaking across the sky, 'umm just wondering Preacher, how are you with sunlight? I mean most ghosts hate it.'

'Damn you,' the ghost screamed and then summoned his pets, 'get him!' He ordered as the misshapen monkey spirits appeared, their large fangs glistening with drool and viscous fluids.

Before Sam could react, three of the creatures attacked him, two from behind, and one frontal attack. Their razor sharp claws slicing through his skin like a knife through butter, scrambling backwards Sam managed to retrieve his hunting knife from his belt and push it up under the jaw of the monkey attacking his front. The creature yelped and disappeared on contact with the silver blade. Dropping to his knees Sam screamed Dean's name and tried to fight off the one's attacking his back. He felt his skin being flayed from his body, his ruined leg now numb gave way completely and he crashed to the ground twisting at the last minute so he pinned the ghost creatures between him and the ground. With a backward thrust he drove the knife into the body of one of them until the hilt connected with an otherworldly screech coming from it's disjointed jaw it vanished, leaving the other one lying directly under Sam. Reared its head and screeched before driving its fangs into the side of Sam's neck. The younger Winchester screamed in pure agony, wretchedly he fought the rising darkness and tried to focus on the altar instead, the Preacher was gone, standing in front of the table with his arms outstretched and his head lifted up towards the dawning day was Dean.

'Dean?' Sam whispered through the blood gurgling up his throat and spilling out of his mouth, 'Dean?'

'There is no one by that name here,' the voice coming from Dean's mouth was the preacher's, while he had the monkeys attack Sam he finished his ritual and took Dean's body.

'You might – have my b-brother's b-b-body ... but you ... d-d-d-don't have ... his ... soul.' Sam cried out between gasps of breath

'You my son need salvation,' Pastor Dean smiled benevolently down at Sam, 'you need to accept the black God into your soul and you too shall be saved.'

'No, no and you won't have him too!' Sam cried spitting out more blood, specks of it hitting Dean's boots.

'I already have him and soon I will have you too.'

'Ne-never,' Sam shivered it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay conscious, the blood loss now life-threatening, his body temperature dropping too fast for him to grasp everything that was happening, 'fight it Dean, please ... I – I – I need you.'

'Dean has been saved by the black Lord and soon you will too Sam,' Pastor Dean grinned, 'I have all of his memories ... Sam, Sam, Sam you shouldn't have left him when he needed you. You betrayed your brother and never felt any remorse for your actions.'

'Dean that's not you, please fight it.' Sam begged his head hanging low and breath came in quick shallow pants; wearily he lowered himself backwards until he lay flat on the ground. His sight now stained with red and black started to fade and merge into one bloody colour. 'Dean?'

'Sammy?' Dean's voice screamed from his body, as it contorted and writhed with the inner conflict, and then suddenly it stopped moving and once again, the Pastor's smile was plastered on the handsome face, 'Halleluiah, and praise the Dark One.'

TBC