Chapter Seven

Dean

Erie, Pennsylvania
Month 2

Mom burning on the ceiling, followed by Dad, then Sam, and finally Annabelle.

It was stupid that nightmares like this would still haunt me. It had been years since Mom and later Sam's girlfriend Jess had died this way, but here were the nightmares again. The nightmares that caused me to toss and turn all night while I was forced to listen to my family beg me to help them. It was the same scene with the same people and the same cries for help every time. Annabelle had been a new addition to the list. She had become someone else I couldn't protect.

As I thought this, the burning image of Annabelle stopped screaming and looked at me. I was stuck in place as it was, but the scolding intensity of her grey eyes made me stop struggling against the invisible forces that held me down. "It's not your fault, Dean."

~oOo~

The sun was just beginning to rise and cast dim light into the motel room. The rooms in the Downtown Erie Hotel were horribly decorated. The beds had a terrible pinkish purple colored blanket and the wallpaper was probably made in the 1800s. The modern light fixtures didn't fit the hotel's theme at all. I woke sitting up and had to take a minute to catch my breath.

"It's not your fault, Dean."

The words echoed in my mind. I'd been told that hundreds of times, but I never took it to heart because it was my fault. Annabelle had told me that it wasn't on my worst nights and whenever we lost people on hunts. She stayed up convincing me that it was the monsters' fault, not mine. She refused to sleep or do anything really until I had given in and said it wasn't my fault. Her grey eyes would blaze with an immense anger, not at me but at whatever had hurt me, and she would repeat over and over again, "It is not your fault, Dean!"

I pushed the thoughts as well as the nightmare out of my mind and got ready. It was time to talk to the coroner about the recent murders anyway. Once I was ready, I woke Sam up. He got ready quickly and we went to see the bodies.

The bodies the Rake left behind were gruesome. The bellies had been torn open. The pictures from the scenes were even more gruesome. The bodies were frozen in mid-scream. Blood was splattered everywhere. The Rake would be a challenge to hunt down and kill.

"So, Doc, have there been any survivors of these attacks?" I asked once Sam and I had finished looking at the bodies.

"One that I know of. He tried to take his life. He's in the mental hospital now," the coroner said cautiously.

"Does he have a name?" Sam inquired.

"You shouldn't bother him. He's in a fragile state of mind. He doesn't need any reporters bothering him."

"We won't bother him," Sam assured the coroner with one of his "charming smiles." "We just want to include his name in the article. He tried to commit suicide?"

"Yes, luckily they found him in time. His name is Gabriel Harvey."

I jotted that down and asked, "How did he try to kill himself?"

"He slit his wrists."

"Did he have a history of depression?"

"No, he was happy."

"You seem to know a lot about him," Sam noted.

"We're friends. Just leave him alone. Don't make him talk about it."

"We won't. Thanks, Doc," I said.

Sam and I went back to the Impala.

"The Rake didn't kill this guy, Gabriel so he tried to kill himself. It fits, and I'm willing to bet it's still haunting him," I said.

"We're not checking into the hospital, are we?" Sam asked warily.

"No, of course not, Sammy. We're gonna pose as orderlies."

"You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Sam glanced at me and sighed. "No. How do you plan on getting in?"

"We apply for the job and get it. Come on, Sam, a monkey could've figured that out!" I joked.

Sam shrugged. "Easy enough."

~oOo~

A week later, Sam and I were working in the mental hospital. Sam had gotten the position of orderly. I was working in the kitchen making food for the patients. Sam had more of a chance to be around Gabriel than I did. Gabriel often told Sam about seeing the Rake. Unfortunately, by the time Sam would get to Gabriel when he started screaming at night, the Rake would be gone.

Tonight, I was staying with Sam outside of Gabriel's room. Gabriel began screaming around midnight. Sam and I ran in and saw the Rake. It looked the way it was described in the legends. It had leathery skin and a dog-like face. It was just skin and bones. Its back was unnaturally long and curved.

Sam shot salt rounds into it, but it had no effect. I tried silver bullets but also had no luck. The loud shots of the guns just made more patients scream and drew attention toward where Sam and I were. We turned around for a second, looked back, and the Rake was gone. Sam and I ran from the hospital.

~oOo~

We didn't risk returning to the hospital, and we didn't have to. We had seen the Rake so it had followed us back to the motel. It showed up that night when I woke up. Again, I shot at it, but it didn't go away. My shots woke Sam up and he shot at it with the salt rifle again. Nothing happened.

"Sam, do you have any salt on you?" I asked without removing my eyes from the Rake.

"No, it's in my bag. It's too risky to move, Dean. Just wait until it disappears," Sam replied.

I nodded tersely and continued staring at the Rake's empty black eye sockets. The staring match lasted about five minutes before the Rake ran out of the motel room. I slowly tore my eyes away from the spot the Rake had just been crouched.

"Think it's a Tulpa?" I asked.

"Probably. So, what? We just spread a way to kill it around the internet?" Sam asked.

"That's our best bet. What website did you say the Rake legend started on?"

"A site called 4chan. I'll post something right now."

Sam retrieved his laptop. I looked over his shoulder as he began typing: "The Rake appeared to me tonight after I saw it in one of my patients' rooms. I took a few shots at it with silver bullets, and that did the job. If a Rake follows you home, find some silver bullets stat!" Sam hit the post button. There were five views almost immediately. Sam looked satisfied with his work and closed the computer.

"We should be able to kill the Rake the next time it shows up," he said, and we both went back to sleep.

~oOo~

It seemed to take forever for the Rake to return. It had been a week, and I had to go out to hustle pool for more money. The bar wasn't that full. The only people there were some tough looking dudes and their girls. A few fairly drunk guys decided they could beat me even if their vision was blurred.

"Where're ya from?" one of them slurred.

I focused on the pool balls and ignored the man's question. I made my move. He wasn't too worried about where I was from anymore. He had bet two hundred dollars that he would win, and now he was losing. He scowled at the pool table and shakily hit the cue ball. He hit nothing. We continued on like this for hours. By the time the guy was done challenging me, I had gotten two grand off of him.

I blew some of the money on a few drinks before I headed back to the motel room. Sam was at the table on his laptop. He glanced up at me when I came in.

"Our post has over a hundred thousand views," he said.

"Too bad the Rake won't show up," I muttered.

Two days later, the Rake finally did show up. Sam shot it, and we got on the road again.