Chapter 9
Author's note: I got such a great (longer than usual) reviews last time and fast, that I needed to start writing more as soon as my fingers recovered from the long chapter I did last time. I appreciated every review, but one I'm going to answer now.
TheDoctorHarkness: I really appreciated the long review and how you noticed what I have been trying to do with Anna. I always hated how perfect everyone tried to make OCs in these stories and I wanted people to be able to identify with Anna. I also spend quite a while wondering how to make her integration to the story as "natural" as possible...so thank you for noticing ;)
My rule I gave you readers last time still applies: I need at least one review per chapter to keep going... BUT MORE AND I'LL EVEN START GRANTING WISHES ;) But seriously, if you have an idea on where you want the story to go, tell me. My dad loved the 5th episode of season 5 so this is my tribute to that :] Enjoy!
We were in a car once more and on the road. Something had happened in a small town two days ride away that was so big that Dean just had to get there. I was waiting for Lucifer himself to be there, but when we finally got there after two days, I found out this was all about a car. A car. I mean sure, my father had always loved old American cars and we had a mustang when I was little, but my butt was so sore from the ride that some old car was not worth that. Sam wasn't exactly happy either, but his spirits were lifted a bit when Dean let him drive. Men and cars. Sigh. I'm more of a motorcycle kind of girl. Well I would be if knew how to drive one.
"So why is this car so great again and why do we care if the owner died?" I admit it, no proper sleep and I might get a bit mean. Well either mean or I would just laugh at everything. Dean looked at me like I was stupid.
"This car is James Dean's car, The Little Bastard. The car he drove when he got in to the accident that killed him. It's famous. And now they say this car killed someone three days ago." He had this smug smile on his face that I wanted to wipe off.
"We are here because you are nuts about cars. Cars don't kill people, people kill people, monsters kill people." Sam gave an audible sigh. Guess he was getting tired of this bickering. Well I couldn't help it, I was a woman and once a month our hormones make us very easily irritated.
"Anna. Quit it. This is an argument you won't win. And besides Dean has a point. The car's owner was killed and his friend swears that it was the car." Cars killing people? If I'm to believe that I am so not getting into another car. Even if refusing to get into the Impala would really get on Dean's bad side. He had already been a bit jumpy around me since our trip to the future.
"I'm not touching that car then. I can interview someone and patch you up when the car tries to take a bite at you, but I'm not coming near it if it's possessed or something."
"Anna. Cars can't be possessed." Sam was trying to be smartass. Dean looked at Sam like he was some sort a traitor.
"Of course they can. They say that the Little Bastard has a curse on it." What was wrong with Dean? He was supposed to be the unemotional but somewhat rational brother smiling to anything in a tight skirt. Now he believes in urban legends? Common! But I thought it was best to keep my mouth shut before I was in actual war with those two.
As Dean and Sam went to book a motel room and change, I decided to go buy myself some clothes that would fit an image of an FBI-agent. The guys said they weren't sure if it was safer to lock me into the motel-room or to keep me with them at all times. I told them I'd start feeding them only vegetables and lecturing them about the dangers of alcohol if they locked me anywhere. Sam almost sounded exited, but Dean had never looked so horrified. So I get to shop as long as I keep close to the motel and I get to play an agent too. Go me.
"Five-fifty back, there you go. Have a nice day!" "Thank you!" I had found a nice pencil-skirt,dresspants, a blouse and a blazer. A fake badge and I would be ready to fool the world. Me, the most honest person in the world. Well, Sam and Dean could lie for me. They were good at it. Now I just needed to change and see what they thought.
"Well hello there miss FBI. Are you gonna handcuff me?" Even if Dean's sly comments were quickly getting predictable, they made me feel good about myself, unlike Sam's.
"You look like a businesswoman mixed with a school girl. I don't think the women in FBI look like that."
"Well Sammy dear tell me this. What do you know about how they look? You have only been a fake one." Yeah, someone could try to learn some manners. But if six years hadn't thought him anything, I didn't think I could now.
-cough- "Well anyways, I think we should get going." I grabbed my camera and by bag from my bed and followed the guys out of the door. The drive was short, but I was confused when we arrived to a storage hall instead of a police station.
"Where are we?" The guys got out of the car and started walking toward the man who had come out of the building. I hurried after them and waited for an answer.
"The car was brought here after what happened. We've got to make sure that the car is a real deal." Sam whispered. Right, in reality Dean just wanted to sit behind the wheel or something.
"Agents Morris, Smith and Morgan from the FBI. We called earlier." I showed my badge and tried to be real convincing. Right now I was glad I had taken that
acting course in high school.
"Yes, yes. Come in. The car is here. The other cops already looked at the blood splatters, but they have no idea who killed the guy. Hope you find out who did it." The car was covered with a hood and the man seemed pretty nervous to be near it so I thought I'd help a little.
"Great, thank you for showing us here. I'm sure we'll be fine from here, but we will call if something comes up." I smiled and moved out of the doorway. The man nodded and half ran away from the room. When I closed the door after him the boys were already getting the car out from under the hood.
"So... what are we gonna do? The car has already been cleaned." I had to admit it was pretty. Nicely shaped. Probably really fast.
"We are gonna check if this is really the Bastard."
"Sooo.. You need to check the engine number?" They both looked at me like I had grown a second head.
"Hey don't look at me like that. Women can know something about cars too." I only knew that bit of information because I had seen it in some TV-show a while ago, but they didn't need to know that. The guys looked at each other before doing rock-paper-scissors. I guess Dean would have to get under the killer-car. I couldn't help but be a little bit worried. A few months ago I wouldn't have believed a car could kill a man, but then again I didn't believe demons existed either.
"Now Little Bastard, I like you, so don't mess this newly born relationship already." I almost laughed even if I was holding my breath. I only breathed easier once he was out from under the car.
"Okay, the car didn't attack you and there is nothing more we can do here. Let's get out of here." The guys nodded and we got out of there, Dean last since he had to glance the Bastard one last time longingly. I knew he would never give the impala up, but it didn't stop him from wishing.
"Okay guys, Bobby just called. There has been another death in town. A local man died in his office and it wasn't exactly clean." More blood. I don't even have time to miss work since I'm seeing more gore and horror traveling with them.
"Are there any witnesses?" Hope his family didn't need to see this happening. Traumas like these never went away.
"The cleaning lady found him in the morning. Apparently he had been working late and when she arrived in the morning, the walls were red." Ugh. Great. I wasn't scared of blood, but no-one ever got used to it, not really.
When we arrived in the scene, the police was interviewing a foreign looking woman, who I assumed was the cleaning lady, some reporters were trying to get to the scene and some cops were taking pictures from the scene. We walked up to the cop interviewing the lady and when we introduced ourselves the cop couldn't have looked more relieved. I soon found out why.
"Puedes atrapar a este asesino?" She didn't speak English. We turned to look at the cop.
"She understands English, but doesn't speak a word of it. I haven't been able to get much out of her, but good luck to you." As he left I wondered what we were gonna do. I could say I love you in multiple languages and speak two other languages besides English, but Spanish wasn't one of them. Dean just looked at Sam encouragingly. Sam spoke Spanish? He never spoke it to me while we were dating. But now I knew there was a whole lot of stuff he didn't tell me back then.
"Signora Alvarez..." And I tuned out. I kind of have a thing for accents, accents and foreign languages. I did not want to want Sam Winchester...again. I had enough the first time around. My attention was brought back on them soon though.
"Sombrero. Muy alto sombrero." I looked at Sam with a clear question in my eyes. The killer was wearing a sombrero? Even Dean was grinning.
"A tall hat. A very tall hat."
"Like Abraham Lincoln?"
"Si, si! Presidente Lincoln kill Mr. Hill." I turned to look at the boys.
"She just told us that the murderer is our former president. I think the case is solved." I smiled a little. A costume killer maybe?
"Excuse us miss. We need to go now." We started walking away from her, got into the car and drove to the motel in silence. I think all of us were wondering how all of this fit together. When we got back to the motel I kicked my heels off and sighed in relief. I loved how heels made my legs look, but they were killing my feet.
"So, any ideas on how James Dean's car and Abraham Lincoln could murder people? Ghosts?" Dean looked at me like I was crazy.
"They can't be ghosts!" Sam had that look on his face that said: I know something you don't.
"Actually there are a lot of stories about famous ghosts, we just have never run into them. We need to find out if there are any of them buried here or if there are actual items here that belonged to Lincoln."
"Wait a minute. That add! When we came into town, I read that there is a big freaking wax museum here. I think it even said they have items that belonged to the people the statues represent." I knew I was looking smug, but I couldn't help it. I knew something they didn't.
"We should go there. I hope we don't have to burn the place down though, even if it is full of famous people's stuff. I think the add said they have a hat that belonged to Heath Ledger." I really wanted to see it. I hope he didn't try to kill me though, even if I thought he was the best Joker ever in Batman - Dark Knight Rises.
"I'm going to check if there are any famous people buried here. And by that I mean I need to visit the cemetery, they don't have an actual database in a town like this -sigh-" Dean didn't sound too happy about that.
"So who am I going to come with?" I looked at them hoping they'd say Dean, even if it meant walking around a giant cemetery and I had serious cramps. Okay maybe a wax museum sounded a little bit better, even with Sam. He would probably appreciate it a little more than Dean would anyways.
"Museum sounds more like you. You can put your heels on again." He grinned and I groaned. Two hours in those heels was enough. I put on flats and we headed for the car. Dean left me and Sam to the museum doors and headed for the cemetery. I walked in Sam on my heels and the museum inside turned out to be more creepy than cool. Wax dolls seemed all to be staring me and as we searched for the curator I kept waiting for them to come alive.
"Excuse me? Are you the owner?" We saw a man in his mid forties, who was putting a jacket on a statue.
"Oh, yes. Yes I am. And you are? Not that it matters. What do you think of this one here? We just got our Barak Obama statue." Well it did look like him. Maybe the best president the States has ever had. But I thought we should introduce ourselves anyways.
"Agents Smith and Morgan, FBI. We have a few questions, do you have a minute?" Sam looked around as if saying: there is no-one here but us! I just shrugged my shoulders.
"Yeah, this time of the day really isn't that busy."
"There have been a couple of murders in town and it seems they are somehow connected to your museum. Do you sell these items that you have here?" he looked between me and Sam as if trying to figure something out.
"Umm, no. We have never sold them. But I think I could make an exception for you. Are you interested in one them particularly?" He though I wanted one of these creepy things in my kitchen or something? No thank you.
"No I don't sir. But the killer of these individuals has been wearing costumes and I somewhere read that you have some items that actually belonged to the people the statues represent?"
"Oh dear. I haven't noticed any of the costumes disappearing, but you are free to look around if you think you see something I haven't." We both nodded to him.
"Thank you, we will and we would also like a list of those items I mentioned." The man nodded and as he left to retrieve the list, we started walking around and looking through the rooms.
"So you think he is telling the truth? Do you think this is ghosts?"
"I'm not sure. There is something off here." I thought so too, but didn't say it out loud. Sam stopped in front of one of the statues.
"Sometimes I wish everyone in this fucking world thought about things the way he did?" Who? Gandhi? Well I know Dean would have laughed into his face, but I sort of realized what he was talking about.
"Yeah, but you'd be out of jobs then." I smiled a little as we I turned around.
Sam didn't follow me though and just as I turned to him, the wax statue jumped on his back. Sam yelled, trying to get it off himself, but it held on tightly, trying to bite him. I panicked and grabbed the nearest item which was a spear from a statue representing Alexander the Great. I hit the statue three times in the back just as it was trying to choke Sam and only then did it disappear in a puff of smoke.
"Are you okay?" I barely did anything, but I was out of breath. I looked around us franticly, trying to figure out if it would come back.
"Yeah, I'm fine. But I think we need to rethink our game plan. That wasn't a ghost. If it were, one hit with the iron spear and it should have fled." He was right of course, but I didn't want to think of a game plan. I wanted to get out of here and never come back. I managed to hit the thing, but now it was probably angry with me and I did not want its vengeance.
"Please can we think about this back at the motel. I have a feeling it's not very far." Sam nodded and I practically ran outside. He called Dean, who was really not that happy that all his work had gone to waste.
Only we were back in the car could I sigh in relief. Sam was on the phone and Dean was asking me about what happened.
"..so Gandhi just attacked Sam? Do you know what that means?"
"Umm, noup?"
"Sam fancies Gandhi!" Dean was grinning from ear to ear. Sam who just got of phone and looked incredibly annoyed by his brother.
"Dean cut it out okay. I just appreciate his wisdom."
"Gosh Sammy, you're talking like an old maid. What can a half an hour in her company do to you?" Dean still wouldn't stop laughing so I decided to ignore him.
"What was the call about?"
"Huh, right. It was the coroner of the case. He said he had found something interesting in the victims stomachs. Seeds of a supposedly indistinct tree." Seeds? What kind of a monster would be interested in its victims eating habits?
"I already googled it with my cell and guess what came up?" Me and Dean just raised our eyebrows to him.
"An old religion god called Leshii used to feed on sacrifices who's stomachs had been filled with these seeds. The people who worshipped her did the work and she devoured the victims. It's supposed to live in eastern Europe though. I think it moved here when it's natural environment is destroyed."
"Well it would explain why he turns into celebrities. It wants worshipped." Dean only seemed to care about one thing though.
"How do we kill it?
"With an iron axe apparently. Old forest god should be taken down like a tree." I would not chop anyone's head off with an axe. I treated people, helped people. Sure I had hit the monster to save Sam, but I could not chop it's head off.
"How do we catch it?"
"Apparently it's a bit mad it didn't get to eat Sam as a snack. One of the cops from earlier just texted me, a girl had gone missing." Great, here we go. We drove to the police station, only to see a cop looking at two young girls like they were crazy. What did they tell him, that Brad Pitt just eloped with their friend?
"I think I should take this. They'll need someone they think can actually believe them, who they can identify with." The guys looked at me.
"I'll come with you."
The girls told us that their friend had been kidnapped by Paris Hilton. They were all fans of the dumb blonde millionaire apparently.
"..she looked really skinny though." I couldn't help, but laugh in my mind. On the outside we promised to find their friend and left the room. We got back in the car with Sam and headed for the last place we had seen the monster in, the wax museum. The museum was closed when we got there, but apparently my ex is pretty handy in picking locks.
"Where should we look? Should we split up?" Dean grabbed my upper arm and started dragging me to an opposite direction to where Sam was heading.
"Now be as quiet as you can. We want the element of surprise." That's exactly when something hit me in the back of my head and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes the next time the blonde bitch was standing in front of Dean, who tied up to a fake tree like the girl beside and Sam too.
"..but I can totally read your mind Dean. I know who your hero is, your daddy. Am I right?" Paris turned away from him, only to see me awake.
"Oh, your new girl is here to see this too. This is going to be so much fun to let her watch, you see I didn't like what she did earlier. And I have something of your father's."
"Poor little Dean, all you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up." Dean got himself free then and tackled the blonde. I needed to get my hands free, now! He needed help, she was beating him! I struggled and my tiny hands slid easily through the knots she had made. I took Sam's knife and freed him before running to the axe, stuck in the wall.
"Sam catch!" Dean had punched Paris to the ground and he managed to roll out off the way just as Sam lifted the axe for a hit. I turned my head and put my hands on my ears so the only indication that my ex just chopped her off was the drop of blood that splattered on my hand. When I turned to look and saw the head on the floor, the blood on Sam's face, I had a hard time remembering that I had things like this before as a nurse.
"Are all of you okay?" I looked at Dean, who was looking at Sam murderously.
"Not one word." Well let's just say Dean should have bullied Sam about liking Gandhi earlier. The next car ride was filled with silence between the two and a couple of unwanted comments on how Dean got his ass kicked my Paris Hilton. Sigh. Men can be such babies at times... Says the woman who would do anything for some candy, a blanket and a disney-movie right now.
