A/N: I would like to thank Clowns or Midgets and VegasGranny for their advice and suggestions on some of the following letters. Their insight helped me to improve the stories and I hope you enjoy them. You gals rock! I took a little different approach to this one and hope you like it. Reviews would make my day. NC
N
The noises of the outside world woke Dean from his sleep, and he had to lay there a moment to get his bearings. He was stretched out in the front seat of his Baby and light was streaming in the windows.
"Hey, we need to get…" Dean started raising up to look in the back to see no one was there. He drew in a deep breath and sighed heavily as the memories came back. He was alone in the car. He closed his eyes as a dull ache built in his chest for the one that was supposed to be sleeping back there.
Sam had left when he realized he couldn't hunt. He was messed up after getting hooked on demon blood and trusting a demon over his own brother. That resulted in him freeing Lucifer from his Cage. He didn't know that would happen when he killed Lilith. He was manipulated by angels and demons alike and the world was suffering because of it.
When Sam walked away from Dean, it almost broke him. Every cell in his body screamed out to stop him, to tell him to come back, to let him know they could work it out, but he couldn't. Dean spent more time worrying about Sam than doing the job and that was dangerous. He had to let him go, it was better that way.
Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scooted behind the wheel of the Impala to crank her. He needed to find food and look for a case. The only way he was going to get through this was to stay busy and keep his mind off his brother. He pulled from the parking space and onto the main room to search for a diner and have breakfast. He would look for one with free Wi-Fi and see if there was anything online that sounded like his kind of deal.
It didn't take him long to find a diner that seemed to be popular and decided the food must be good to have that many customers. Dean pulled into the parking lot and found a safe place to leave his Baby where she would be less likely to be dinged or dented from careless people. He made his way inside and looked around before heading for a booth and faltered when it struck him, he didn't need a booth. It was only him now and he veered to the bar and took a seat at the end where he could see the door and the room.
"Coffee hon?" an older waitress asked as she came by with the pot of coffee.
"Please," Dean nodded turning the cup over for her to fill. He scanned the menu and stopped when his eyes fell on the healthy choices knowing that would be what Sam would order. He shook his head and pushed the memories away knowing he couldn't dwell on them.
"Are you ready hon?" she asked a few minutes later.
"Yeah, I'll have the Blue Plate Special with extra bacon," Dean told her sitting the menu back between the salt and napkin dispenser trying to push away the emotions plaguing him.
"Good choice, I'll get this right in," she nodded scribbling on a pad. "Would you like a biscuit and jam while you wait?"
"Sounds good, Dolly." Dean pulled his laptop from his pack and sat it beside him. He booted it up and went online to see what he could find that might be a hunt. He nodded to Dolly when she placed a plate with a biscuit and pack of jam at his elbow. The smell of the fresh made biscuit had his mouth watering and he paused long enough to pry it open and put the jam inside and taking a big bite. Someone knew how to make biscuits in this place. He sighed happily, before wiping his fingers so he could scroll down the screen looking at the headlines.
Dolly came back by with more coffee and a few minutes later sat two plates in front of him. "Here you go hon; hope you enjoy it. Maybe it'll make you feel better. I kind of get the feeling you're missing somebody."
"If it's as good as the biscuit, I'm sure I will. You could say that, I guess."
"Thanks for the compliment. I usually make them up every morning."
"Well, you are a good cook Dolly," Dean praised giving her a warm smile and wink. He chuckled when she blushed and hurried away to take care of another customer. He pushed his laptop back slightly but kept reading as he ate. Any other time this would be Sam going through the stories and finding them a case, but for now it was up to him. He was almost finished with his breakfast when a headline caught his eyes and he clicked on the article to open it and read it. It sounded promising and what was even better, the town was only four hours from where he was now. He marked the article before closing and putting away his laptop.
"Is there anything else I can get you hon?" Dolly asked when she saw he was done.
"How 'bout a large coffee to go?"
"My pleasure, I'll have that for you in a second." She reached behind her for a large white cup and poured coffee into it and then put a lid on it. She pulled out her pad and added the coffee to it before sitting both in front of Dean. "I hope you'll come back this way again and I'm sure things will work out, sometimes it just takes a little time apart."
"You can count on it if I'm back in the area," Dean assured her. He glanced at the bill and pulled a couple of bills from his pocket. "Keep the change and have a good day Dolly and…Thanks for the advice."
"Thank you and you do the same young man."
Dean strolled from the diner and headed for the Impala. He dug out an atlas he kept in the car and found his location and then the town he was heading to. His eyes quickly roamed over the map, picking out the best route to get there. With that done, he started his Baby and pulled from the parking lot to the main road that would take him to the interstate. He sat back and relaxed but couldn't help looking over at the empty seat beside him where his brother was supposed to be sitting. He bit back the feeling of sadness and grief that flooded his mind knowing he needed to get his head in the game if he was going to hunt. He couldn't let anything distract him or make him loose his focus since that was what got you killed.
With his sights set on Clayton, New Mexico, Dean cleared his head of all other thoughts. He flipped on the radio and found a station to his liking and upped the volume since there was no one to stop him. He let his head nod to the music and drummed his hands on the steering wheel. He wouldn't get to Clayton until evening so he couldn't see trying to rush there. Nothing could be done until the next day and that meant getting a motel room for a few days and checking out the deaths to see if it was a case.
spn
Night had fallen across the small town and Dean checked several motels before deciding on the one he liked best. He pulled up to the office and stopped sitting there for a moment before it dawned on him. He needed to get out and get a room. That was always Sam's job and now he was flying solo. He swore under his breath at himself and opened the door to get out. There were a lot of things that were going to be different working alone and he was going to have to get used to it. He didn't know if Sam could hunt again or not, but he couldn't wait on him to decide or find out. There were still people out there that needed saving and he couldn't just stop. This is what he did, it was in his genes, he was damn good at it.
Dean opened to door to his room and stood there looking in. It didn't look right or feel right. He had gotten a single since double beds weren't needed. Seeing only one bed in the room make his chest tighten and he fought to control his breathing. He had to remember Sam was an adult and could take care of himself. He wasn't going to be out there fighting monsters alone so he shouldn't worry about him.
After another moment, he moved into the room and sat his bag on the dresser. He dropped onto the bed and flipped on the television since there was no one to talk to. He knew he should be reviewing the article he found and seeing if there was anything else online, but his heart wasn't in it right now. He flipped through the channels and stopped when he found one of Sam's favorite movies and settled down to watch it even though he didn't really like it. It gave him a feeling of being close to Sam.
spn
Several hours later, Dean snorted and jerked himself awake and gripped the gun laying by his side. It took him a moment to realize where he was and looked at some random movie playing now. He glanced at the clock and grunted knowing he needed more sleep. He pushed himself from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom to use it before making his way back to the bed. He kicked off his boots and stripped his jeans and long sleeved shirt off before pulling back the covers to lay down. He turned off the television and lamp by the bed before rolling over and trying to go back to sleep.
The noises surrounding him seemed louder and out of place. He could hear traffic outside the room, but there was no soft snoring to lull him to sleep now. He worked on shutting down his mind and letting sleep take him into the abyss where he didn't feel anything. It wasn't a peaceful sleep for him, but it was better than nothing. The dreams that he couldn't seem to lock away showed Sam smiling at him with blood stained teeth and a trail of blood running down the side of his mouth that he licked away. At his feet lay a body that had been drained of blood. He fought the dream and tried find a peaceful place and leave that horror behind.
It was early morning when Dean jerked himself awake knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep any longer. He got up and trudged to the bathroom, shivering slightly as he felt the room was closing in on him. He was used to a bigger room with two beds and much more breathing room. He flipped on the shower and used the commode while the water heated. When the temperature was suitable, he undressed and stepped under the hot spray hoping it was wash away some of the tension and tightness in his shoulders and neck. He shampooed his hair and washed his body before standing under the spray and letting it beat on his back. With a long sigh, he shut the water off and grabbed a towel to dry off before stepping from the tub.
He secured the towel around his hips before stepping from the bathroom to grab briefs and his suit. After he was dressed, it was still early so he headed out and got in the Impala to check out the diner down the road. It was too early to visit the local cops and that was his first stop before the morgue. The parking lot was beginning to fill with locals stopping for breakfast before heading on to work. He found a parking spot and went inside hoping the food was good. He planned on ease dropping on the locals to see if anyone was talking about what was happening in town.
spn
The sheriff's office was small and set near the middle of town beside the courthouse. Dean pulled into a visitor parking spot and got out straightening his tie and jacket before heading for the door. He stepped inside and walked up to a counter with a male deputy sitting behind it filling out paperwork. He waited for him to look up before he spoke.
"Is your sheriff in yet? I'd like to speak with him," Dean told him.
"And you are?" the deputy questioned.
"Agent Wilson, FBI," Dean said. He pulled out his fake credential and flashed them his way.
"One moment, you can take a seat over there."
Dean looked around and saw four chairs lined up against the wall and stepped to them taking a seat. He looked around the place thinking it wasn't any different than any of the other sheriff departments he had been in over the years. The one big difference was he didn't have his brother there to dish out the charm and get what they needed. He watched the deputy talking quietly on the phone before going back to his paperwork, occasionally glancing at Dean as he worked.
The door behind the counter opened and an older, distinguished looking man in uniform stepped out. He looked at the deputy who nodded toward Dean and cast his eyes in his direction.
"Hello, I'm Sheriff Bishop, how can I help the FBI?" he asked greeting Dean and holding his hand out to shake.
"Agent Wilson, Sheriff. I'm here about the deaths that have taken place over the past few weeks. Can we go somewhere and talk?"
"Of course, we can use my office, this way." The sheriff lead Dean through the door and to the back of the squad room to an office. He motioned to one of two chairs sitting in front of his desk and went around to take the one behind it. "I'm not sure why you're here; I don't remember calling the FBI for assistance."
"I don't know, I think someone called the main office and my boss's boss got in touch with him and my boss with me. I just go where they tell me sir."
"Don't they usually send two agents out on a case?"
"They do but my partner was reassigned, and I haven't been given a new one yet," Dean told him, not able to hide the sadness in his eyes. He didn't see the sheriff studying him for a moment wondering what he wasn't telling him. "What can you tell me about these deaths?"
"That's the thing, I'm not sure what to think about them. One witness swears several zombies attacked a group in the park and another one says some creature attacked some hikers on the outskirts of town. I can't confirm either nor, can I find a trace of any attackers. It's like they vanished into thin air."
"Were the two incidents linked in anyway?"
"Not that we could find. The ones in the park were friends, but there's nothing to link them to the hikers. We got a couple of calls from local farmers that something was attacking their livestock and yet again couldn't find any trace of alleged attackers, but there were several dead animals. I'm afraid these events have got us stumped."
"Was there anything strange or unusual happening around the time of the deaths? Something that you couldn't explain?" Dean hated this part of the investigation, playing nice with the locals to get the information he needed. Sam was always much better at it and could pour out the charm.
"Now that you mention it, there was a power outage in a half a block radius the night of the attacks and the report from the farmers. There has been a total of five now. It was almost like it was planned. What makes it weirder was how the outages bounced around. The first outage happened, a few days later another one happened and a few days later it happened at the first location again, then went to the second one. The last outage was in a different place but has only happened one time. They were miles apart and nothing explains why it would happen in those places. I mean down to the minute, but the victims were nowhere near the outages and the power company has no explanation as to why it happened. It lasted less than thirty minutes and the power came back on just as suddenly as it went out. We could find no tampering with the lines or any reason for that to happen. It has us stumped and we can't find any type of connection to the locations and the victims."
"Alright, do you have the location of those outages in the reports?"
"Yes, and the reports from the power company."
"Could I get a copy of all your police reports on the cases and I'll need to see the victims."
"Sure, always happy to cooperate with the FBI and the morgue is in the basement of the hospital about two miles away. You can follow the signs when you leave our parking lot. I'll have someone copy the files."
"Thanks, that'll be a big help," Dean said. He waited until he was off the phone before asking. "Do you have any theories Sheriff?"
Sheriff Bishop huffed a breath and sat back in his chair to look at Dean. "If there weren't the deaths, I'd say someone was pulling pranks, but to be honest nothing makes sense. We don't have that many murders in a small town like this and now we've got six in less than three weeks is unheard of. How can these people be killed without any evidence being left behind? It's just not adding up."
"Understandable. Well, I'll see what I can find out."
"If you'll keep me informed on anything you turn up, I'd appreciate it."
"Of course. The witnesses you talked to, are they reliable sources?"
"Yes, I've known both of them a number of years and could see no reason for either to lie about what they saw."
"Alright. After I visit the morgue, I'll check out the crime scenes and if anything else turns up, please call me," Dean told him pulling a business card from his pocket.
"I will, the deputy will have the reports for you out from. It was nice to meet you Agent Wilson."
"Likewise, Sheriff, have a good day." Dean shook his hand and turned to leave heading back to the front to wait of the files. This was sounding like something he needed to investigate, but he wasn't sure what he might be looking for. Now was the time he really missed his brother and his huge brain. They usually split the work and Sam was a whiz at narrowing down a possible creature or killer quicker than he was. He had to wait fifteen minutes for the deputy to copy the files before leaving to find the morgue.
He found the signs for the hospital and followed them to a three story building and pulled around to the back for the rear entrance, knowing they wouldn't be bringing bodies in the front. He parked and got out seeing a door marked delivery.
The temperature dropped as he pushed through the double doors marked Morgue and looked around. He opened the door to the right and stepped into a brightly lit room with two stainless steel tables sitting in the middle of the room. A lab tech was sitting at a desk near the door and looked up.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm Agent Wilson, FBI; I'd like the see the murder victims from the past couple of weeks."
"Umm..I'm not sure I should…"
"I've already spoke the Sheriff Bishop and he approved it."
Dean turned when a middle aged man dressed in scrubs and lab coat stepped into the room. He figured he was the coroner and waited for him to speak.
"Holt what's going on?" he asked the tech looking at Dean.
"He's with the FBI and wants to see the murder victims."
"Well, don't just sit there, go pull them out," he ordered. "Help these days. Sheriff Bishop sent you over here."
"Yes, I'm lending a hand with the cases. While I inspect the bodies, could I get copies of your reports?"
"Of course, Holt, make the agent copies of those files and make it snappy."
"Yes, Dr. Grant," Holt answered. He had opened and pulled six bodies from the drawers and hurried to the filing cabinets that lined the wall by the desk to find the files.
"Thank you, doctor," Dean nodded. He stepped across the room and grabbed gloves from a box on the wall to slip on before going to the first one and pulling the sheet from the body. He let it settle at the hips and surveyed the body studying the wounds. He was sure they were made by human teeth and started to tell Sam to take photos but snapped his mouth shut and dug his cell from his pocket before he could say it. Dean moved around the body taking closeup shots before covering it and moving to the next. He did this to all the bodies, wanting as much evidence as he could get. The difference was obvious as he snapped photos of the wounds that were raw, jagged and like something had ripped out huge chunks of flesh and some were gashes made by claws. "Were there any organs missing from either?"
"As a manner of fact, the one you're looking at was missing his heart and liver."
Dean finished with the bodies and covered the last one up. He pulled the gloves off and tossed them as his mind began to work on what could have done this. He accepted the files from the tech and nodded his thanks to the coroner as he left. He was going to check the police reports to see where the bodies were found and go check the sites out. Maybe he would see something the local missed and would point him in the right direction of what could have done this.
spn
Dean was walking around the yellow tape still there showing the crime scene in the park when his cell began to ring. He answered it, "Hello, Agent Wilson."
"Agent Wilson, Sheriff Bishop. We just had a call from the hospital about two admissions you might want to check out."
"Are there other victims?"
"I don't know. They're still alive, but you might want to meet me there. It's better you see it for yourself instead of me trying to explain it over the phone. I'm looking at it and I still don't believe it."
"I'm on my way Sheriff. I should be there in twenty minutes of less."
"Come to the emergency room entrance. I'll be waiting for you there."
"Alright." Dean hung up wondering what the sheriff had found and how the two hospital admits tied into the case. He went back to the car and dropped into the driver's seat to head for the hospital. Traffic was light and he made good time back across town and followed the signs to the emergency entrance at the side of the building to park.
He got out and made his way inside, giving the waiting room a once over, looking for the sheriff. He was about to ask at the desk when he stepped through a door looking around until he spotted Dean.
"This way agent," Sheriff Bishop waved to him. "It's okay Maggie, he's with me," he told a nurse who was about to stop Dean from going back where the patients were being treated.
"Alright Sheriff," she nodded going back to her work.
"What's going on Sheriff?" Dean questioned seeing the strained and worried look on his face.
"Remember I told you about the power outages on the nights of the attacks?"
"Yes."
"There have been two people brought into the ER that live in the center of where each the power outages happened. One is a thirty-four-year-old female and the other is a fifteen-year-old male. Neither have any connection to the victims that I can tell from my brief interview or know each other."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"You will," the sheriff said pausing at a curtain and pulling it back enough for them to go in.
Dean stepped in with the sheriff and stumbled slightly when he saw the old woman lying on the bed breathing heavily. He frowned and looked to the sheriff wondering if they were in the wrong cubicle.
"This is Stacey Reynolds, she lives at the center of the first outage," he said quietly so not to disturb her. "Her husband was on a business trip, so she was alone at home that night. All she remembers was the lights went out and something was in the house with her. She woke up feeling rundown and like she was coming down with the flu, so she took a few days off work. The power went out again less than a week later and her husband found her in their bedroom and brought her in."
"She's supposed to be thirty-four?" Dean questioned taking in the wrinkled, aged features of the woman's face. Her hands were draw, had aged spots and her skin seemed paper thin with blood vessels prominent across the top of it.
"What could have done this to her?"
"I don't know," Dean admitted.
"The teenager is in the next room." The sheriff stepped through the curtain and moved to the next cubicle allowing Dean to go in first.
The woman was bad, but the teenage boy looked like he had aged fifty years. His body was shrunken, his hair white, and he gasped for each breath he took. He turned his head toward them and looked up with eyes that were cloudy from cataracts. It was like the life was sucked out of both patients.
Dean was at a loss for words knowing this case just got very complicated and he was going to need help.
"Eddie lives where the other outage occurred."
"No one else was affected that you know of?"
"No, we can't find anyone else sick, missing, nothing. The doctors ran test but can find nothing wrong with them except they suddenly aged in a week's time. Nothing shows up that they are contagious or can affect others. At least that's one thing. Things like this don't happen in small towns, I don't even know where to start to investigate this or how to stop it from happening again."
"I'm heading back to the motel to make some calls to some people that might be able to help. Hang in there. Keep me posted on any changes," Dean told him.
"You think this is some weird disease or bug?"
"I can't say, but I'll do my best to stop it." Dean gave him a nod and hurried from the emergency room and back to the car. Once he was inside, he pulled out his cell and called the only person he knew that might be able to help.
"Hey Bobby, it's Dean."
"Dean! Son good to hear from you. It's been awhile."
"Yeah, I know. I'm working a case that has really thrown me and hope you can do some research for me or maybe you've come across something like it before."
"Sure Dean, has Sam found anything useful?"
Dean didn't say anything as he drew in a long breath.
"Dean? Is something wrong?"
"Sam's not with me, we're doing our own thing right now," he finally got out. Dean winced when Bobby swore at him about being an idjit and should know better than to split up. They were the best hunters out there and had each other's backs like no one else could. He didn't say anything as he berated him and knew he was right but couldn't make himself fix it.
"What have you got?" Bobby asked after he had calmed.
"Six deaths and two people who aged like fifty years in less than a week. Some witnesses said zombies attacked four of the victims, but there was no trace of the attackers when the crime scene was worked. Could I be looking at a witch? What's really strange is there have been power outages in three places in town and the ones who aged each lived in the middle of two of them. I swear Bobby, it's like their life force was sucked from them or something."
"Let me do some reading and I'll get back to you."
"Thanks Bobby. I'm heading back to the motel to go back over everything I have and see if I missed anything." He hung up and cranked the Impala. His mind was churning trying to come up with a monster that might fit the profile. Now, more than ever he missed his brother who was a star with this kind of thing. Dean decided to stop at the diner for some food so he wouldn't have to go back out. He didn't know how long he had before there was another death or another victim of aging, but he had a feeling somehow the two were connected.
spn
Dean had a map of the town spread out on the table in his room so he could mark where the victims were taken, bodies were found, where the power outages happened and where the two in the hospital lived. He leaned over the map and studied it trying to find the missing piece. Dean swore when nothing stood out and flopped down in a chair as he slammed his hand down on table. His cell started ringing and he looked around for his jacket to grab it.
"Hey Bobby," Dean answered hoping Bobby had some news for him. "Did you find anything for me?"
"Maybe, I was looking at Shtriga, but the power outage thing threw me until I finally found a reference that had me looking at some rare tomes and I think you're dealing with a Night Hag. It's a spirit and similar to a Shtriga."
"Night Hag, what do you know about it?"
"Well, it feeds off a person's life force draining them. With the Shtirga they usually only attack children since they have a powerful life force and they don't age, only lapse into a coma and die. The Night Hag must take more from the person to age like that," Bobby contemplated. "The spirit can create and manipulate nightmares which would then materialize in the real world and go on killing sprees until they fade away. The more it feeds the stronger it gets until the nightmares become corporal and stay that way. Whenever the night hag feeds, it results in the disruption of all electrical in the vicinity shutting it down until the feeding is over. Night hags possess the ability to conjure up manifestations of people's worst nightmares, so your victims were killed by someone else's nightmares. They can manipulate weather, Terrakinesis, Electrokinesis and Pyrokinesis. This is one nasty spirit."
"Okay, but how do I kill it?"
"As a spirit, Night Hags are vulnerable to iron. However, unless they are feeding, it only hurts them. Being stabbed with an iron weapon while corporeal will kill them. It's got to be feeding to kill it."
"Oh, that's just great!" Dean growled. "How am I supposed to find this spirit when it could be attacking anyone in this town."
"Well, the Night Hag will look for someone that is vulnerable and easy to manipulate. Maybe someone who has lost a loved one or broken heart, I can't tell ya son."
"Will it come back to either of the two that it started draining?"
"I don't know, maybe. The reading did say it usually took three to four times before the victims are totally drained. Do you want me to join you and help? Where are you?"
"Clayton, New Mexico, too far for you to get here. I'll see what I can do here Bobby. Maybe I can trap it someway."
"I'll put out a call and see if there's anyone close that can lend a hand. After you're done why don't you head my way? Maybe I can knock some sense into that hard head of yours."
"Maybe Bobby, I better go," Dean said quickly hanging up not wanting to hear Bobby's angry words. He paced the room for a moment as he tried to decide how to proceed. If the Night Hag was bouncing around from victim to victim…Dean stepped back to the map and let his finger move from the first reported power outage to the second, to the third, the fourth and finally the fifth. It clicked; Dean knew where the Night Hag was going to strike next. At least he hoped it was right. Knowing he was going to need the sheriff's help he grabbed his cell and jacket as he headed for the door. "Sheriff, Agent Wilson, I need you to meet where the last power outage took place, at the center…I'll be there in fifteen minutes…We have a big problem," he spoke into his cell while getting into the car. He didn't wait for the sheriff to question him further knowing time was of the essence. Dean pulled from the parking lot to head across town to the hospital hoping he wasn't too late. He pressed harder on the gas once he was in traffic.
spn
Dean was parked on the street and looked at the houses around him. He knew someone in one of them had been attacked by the Night Hag and needed to find them. He looked up as the sheriff pulled in behind him and got out, walking slowly toward him.
"Thanks for joining me Sheriff. We need to start knocking on the doors of these houses to find out if anyone is sick," Dean explained as he pushed from the Impala's side.
"You know something you're not telling agent."
"I don't have time to explain it right now. After we find the person and get them to safety, I'll tell you my plan." Dean didn't like involving the locals in a hunt, but he didn't have a choice with no backup. "I'll take this side; you start on the other. Text me if you find anyone."
The sheriff watched Dean walk to the first house on the corner and up the walkway wondering what he was hiding. He wasn't going to let this drop and was going to be sure the agent told him the truth. The only way to find out was play alone and see where this led. He crossed the street and walked up to the first house and rang the doorbell.
The first three houses were a bust for Dean but when he rang the doorbell for the fourth one something told him he had found the place. He could hear movement inside, but it took a few minutes for that person to answer the door. It was a guy who looked like death warmed over. He was coughing, his completion was pallid, and he looked like he had aged.
"Good afternoon sir, I'm Agent Wilson with the FBI. We're doing a door to door canvas to see if anyone has become ill over the past few days and you seem to fit the bill."
"It's just the flu dude, should've got the flu shot when my Mom told me to," he wheezed and coughed into a wad of tissues.
"Sir, mind telling me how old you are," Dean questioned.
"I'll be the big three O in another month why?"
Dean looked him over and knew for sure this was the place. The guy could easily pass for fifty, not thirty. "Sir, I need you to pack a bag and go to the hospital. I'm going to have to check your house out for contaminants." He pulled his cell out and sent a text to the sheriff, looking at the house number again to be sure he got it right.
"What? You can't do this. I'm just sick," the guy complained his voice getting louder and weaker.
"There a problem here Agent Wilson?" Sheriff Bishop asked as he stepped up on the porch.
"I don't know. I've asked the gentleman to head to the hospital and I need to search his house," Dean replied.
"Sheriff can he do this?"
The sheriff looked at the house number and stared hard at the guy standing at the door. He knew this person; he was sure of it.
"Are you Amos's son, Kit?" he asked cautiously hoping he was wrong.
"Yeah, you know my father from high school." Kit replied.
"Son, you do what the agent wants and hurry up."
"You sure Sheriff?"
"Yes, it's for your own safety Kit. Go to the hospital and call your Dad."
"Alright Sheriff," he sighed as he shuffled away from the door and headed down a hall to get a small bag and change of clothes.
"We need to talk after Kit leaves," Sheriff Bishop declared looking Dean in the eyes. He got on the radio and called for a car to come and take Kit to the hospital.
Dean knew he wasn't going to be able to lie his way out of this and wished Sam were here to help him. They waited in the foyer for Kit to return. He tried to come up with a cover story that might be believed but nothing good was coming to mind.
Kit came back down the hall, moving slowly like an old man with a small pack over his shoulder. He was breathing hard and sweat was beating up on his forehead.
"I've called a deputy to take you to the hospital Kit and I'll call the ER to let them know you are coming. They'll take good care of you."
"Thanks Sheriff, I was hoping the medicine I took would help but it doesn't seem to be doing any good."
"You'll be fine, just do what the doctors tell you son." He looked down the street when one of his deputy's arrived and helped Kit to the SUV and into the car. The sheriff gave the deputy instructions before they drove off and turned to look back at Dean and the house. He walked back up the walkway and into the open door, shutting it behind him. "Okay, what the hell is happening in my town?"
Dean looked at the sheriff and saw his tense and angry body language and decided to tell him the truth. He wasn't sure how he would take it and hoped he didn't throw him in jail or the nut house.
"Why don't we find the kitchen and see if he has any coffee?" Dean suggested thinking it would be better if they were sitting down. They made their way through an archway and saw the kitchen off a small dining area. Dean took the lead and walked into the room giving it a quick once over before going to the coffee pot and checking it out. He opened a couple of cabinets and found coffee, filters and mugs. Once the coffee was brewing, he joined the sheriff at the bar to wait. "Sheriff, what I'm going to tell you is…This is going to be hard…Maybe impossible to believe but I am telling you the truth," he started trying to say the right words. "There are things in this world that are not human. What has invaded your town is called a Night Hag."
The sheriff looked at him with hard eyes and his mind flipped a coin to determine if Dean was nuts or if what he was saying was true. He pursed his lips and frowned deeply before finally speaking.
"Go on, just what is a Night Hag."
"It's a spirit that feeds off the life energy of others until they die or almost die. When she feeds any electricity around her stops working, thus your power outages."
"You mean the ones at the hospital and Kit. They've had their life energy taken from them?"
"Yes, and the murder victims were attacked from nightmares that the Hag manifested to life. The reason you found no evidence at the crime scenes was she was still too weak to make them come to life. When that happens, it will be a blood bath unless I stop her. Why don't you go on back to the office and I hope to have this wrapped up tonight?"
"You tell me this wild story about a spirit attacking people and you want me to just bow out?" he asked in shock. "You're not FBI, are you?"
"No, I'm a hunter and this is what I do. I find the bizarre deaths or incidents and investigate them to see if there are supernatural elements involved and stop them."
The coffee dinged it was ready and Dean got up to pour two cups. He came back to the bar and pushed one toward the sheriff as he watched the emotions play across his face. It took him a few minutes of some serious thinking before he looked up at Dean and spoke.
"I'm not letting you do this alone. This is my town and I plan on protecting it no matter what is attacking it."
"You sure?"
"Yes, tell me more about this Night Hag and how do we stop it."
Dean was impressed he was taking this in stride and went on to tell him what he knew and how everything fit together. The sheriff listened closely absorbing everything.
"So, iron will kill it, but it has to be feeding off a person?"
"Yep. I'll be bait and when the spirit starts to feed on me, I'll stab her with an iron knife."
"No, you might not be able to move, or she could stop you. I'll be bait and you can take her out. You've got more experience than me with this kind of thing. You say this spirit will come at night when a person is asleep. So, I'll sleep in Kit's bed tonight and you can hide in the closet."
"Well, if that's the case, I have some bullets that will do the trick. They have iron tips, blessed by a pastor."
"I still can't believe you do this all the time. If this is real, then there must be more out there we don't know about."
"Yeah, but I think you know enough for now. No need to overload your mind. We need to be focused on this spirit and stopping her from killing again."
"Okay if that's settled, I need to call the office and let them know where I'm at and mark me out for the rest of the day. You should probably get a little sleep if you're going to be waiting up tonight."
"Yeah, I can grab a couple of hours on the couch and then we'll set up for tonight."
"I'm going to run home and change clothes and pick some food up for us. Will you be okay here alone? I mean will it attack during the day?"
"I don't think so, didn't really find any reference to that. Let's hope not."
"I will be back in an hour or so."
"Alright Sheriff and…Thanks for believing me and the assist. I don't usually let civilians help with cases."
"Since you're alone, it's better you take my help, so you don't get yourself killed. This seems like a two person job to me. I am the sheriff and it's my duty to protect this town." He headed for the front door and closed it behind him leaving Dean sitting at the bar.
Dean thought about what he had said, and he was right. It was a two person job, he just didn't want to admit it. He took his coffee and went back to the small living room and sat down on the couch. Right now, he wished his brother was here with him to help and be backup. He thought about Bobby's words and knew he was right, maybe after this hunt something could be worked out, he didn't know. He knew Sam left because of what he had done and his fear of relapsing and drinking the blood again.
He sat the cup aside and stretched out hoping he could nap so he'd be alert and ready for tonight. If he figured it right, the Night Hag would come back here tonight for one final feeding before searching for another victim.
spn
Dean looked up when Sheriff Bishop stepped from the bathroom in sweats and a tee shirt. He walked silently in socked feet to the bed and pulled the covers back.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I wouldn't think less of you if you decided to backout. What you've learned is a lot to take in for anyone."
"No, I'm good," Bishop stated with determination while trying to hide his true feelings.
"It's okay to be scared Sheriff. Every hunt I go on there's a risk it might be my last."
"And you do it anyway?"
"Someone has to," Dean shrugged. "And I'm good at it."
"Well, I'm glad you're out there doing this for us."
"Yeah, right. So, you understand what you need to do?"
"Yes, get in bed, go to sleep and wait to be attacked."
"Pretty much. As soon as the Night Nag is corporal, I will kill it. I'll be in the closet waiting so when it shows I'll be ready."
"Just don't miss."
"I won't," Dean assured him going to the window to open it four inches while Bishop got in bed and covered up. "Sweet dreams."
"Funny," Bishop grunted sarcastically as he settled in the bed.
Dean went to the closet and opened the door to look inside. He moved things around in there and took a stool to sit on. He turned off the light and made sure he was positioned where he could see Bishop clearly. He clutched his gun tightly in his hand and got comfortable to wait. He didn't know how long it would be since the times were all different when the Night Hag came the other five times. He hoped the sheriff wasn't too anxious to be unable to go to sleep. Dean adjusted the night vision goggles on his head knowing he wouldn't be able to see when the power went out.
It was several hours later that Dean hear soft noises in the bedroom. He carefully and slowly stood, leaning against the wall until he felt steady on his feet. He moved a step forward and looked out into the bedroom knowing when the Hag started feeding the power would go out. They had positioned a nightlight so Dean could see it and know the feeding had started. He lowered the goggles over his eyes and tensed when he heard the noises again. A shadow moved into his vision and he froze, waiting patiently for his chance. The Night Hag moved to the bed and slowly crawled up the body of the sheriff to where she was straddling him and lowered her head to his face. She began to suck his breath from his lungs and a thin, whitish mist started to rise from his open mouth. Dean saw the nightlight flicker and finally go out.
With a steady hand, Dean raised his handgun and with the help of the night vision goggles drew down on the Night Hag. He squeezed the trigger and the bullet exploded from the barrel on a direct path into the Night Hag's head. He stepped from the closet and fired two more into her chest, knocking the Hag from the sheriff's body and off the bed. Dean quickly moved to the pile of rags and put two more rounds into the body for good measure.
The sheriff groaned and set up in the bed, reaching to turn the lamp on by the bed making Dean grunt madly before quickly flipping the goggles out of the way. They both watched as the dead body started to dry and crack and suddenly small, intensely bright orbs slipped from the cracks to hover over the body for a moment. One orb floated in the air and wove up and down before moving toward the sheriff and disappeared into his slightly open mouth. The sheriff swallowed and coughed as he felt his body being restored its energy and essence. The other orbs danced around the bedroom for a moment before finding the open window and disappearing into the night. They were on their way to their rightful bodies at the hospital.
"Is it over?" the sheriff asked swinging his legs off the bed to sit on the side of it.
"Yeah, it's over," Dean stated. He looked at all that was left of the Night Hag, a pile of ash amid the robe and cloak laying on the floor.
"I can't thank you enough for what you did for my town."
"All in a day's work. Thanks for the help, it did make it easier."
"Well, I hope you find your partner again. I don't see how you can do the job you do alone."
"I'm heading back to the motel to get a few hours of sleep before heading out."
"Good luck to you."
"If you need my help again, you have my contact numbers, call me."
"Oh, believe me I will. I know when I'm in over my head after what I've seen and learned."
"Take care Agent Wilson," Sheriff Bishop told him.
"The name's Dean, Sheriff. You do the same."
Sheriff Bishop watched the hunter turn and leave and looked for his boots before heading to the window to watch him get into his black car and drive away. He hoped he found his way back to whoever he had left behind.
spn
Dean rolled over in the bed when an annoying buzzing woke him up. "Answer the phone Sammy," he mumbled before realizing he was alone. He clawed at his cell, finally getting a grip on it and brought it to his ear.
"H'llo," he mumbled, wondering what time it was.
"Dean, I want to come back," the familiar voice of his brother spoke to him in a pleading tone.
The End
