Ok, so I only have nineteen chapters written because i've hit a major block and my stupid brain won't break through it, so updates may not be as often from here on out. I am trying my best, and I promise you that updates will come even if it's a while. I'm also currently completely swamped in my personal life. I'm working, while looking for more work and also doing two qualifications online so this story isn't my first priority right now, but it's up there. I just hope you guys can bear with me.
Anyway, enough of the boring stuff, story time.
Xoxo
Not that she needed waking, she didn't really sleep these days anyway, but Sam brought her a coffee the next morning, and she changed and the three of them climbed into the minivan and headed to the carnival.
"Check it out. Five-oh." Dean nodded toward a trailer where two detectives were chatting with a couple of clowns. "I'll go check it out."
Dean climbed out of the car, but Sam just stared at the clowns suspiciously.
"Why are you so scared of them, anyway?"
Sam shook his head and stepped out of the car, and Jessa followed. "I don't know. I just am, I guess."
The pair hung around and waited for Dean.
"Another murder?" Jessa asked him when he approached.
"Two more last night. Apparently they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little bow with them."
"Who fingered a clown."
Both Jessa and Dean glanced at him with questioning looks for his poor choice of words.
"Yeah, a clown." Dean finally said, "Who apparently vanished into thin air."
"Looking for a cursed object is like looking for a needle in a haystack." Jessa commented pessimistically.
"More like a needle in a stack of needles." Sam added, "They could be anything."
"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."
"Oh good." Sam said sarcastically, "That's nice and inconspicuous."
"I guess we'll have to blend in." Dean smiled and pointed to a 'Help Wanted' sign.
"Hell no!" Jessa told him, "I did not come all the way here to work at a carnival. I'm an FBI Agent for god's sake!"
"You got a better idea?"
"Well… we could…" She trailed off, knowing Dean's idea was the most logical. "Fine." She snapped. "But I'm not going to be cleaning up garbage."
When they walked into Mr Cooper's office, he motioned for them to take a seat. There were two chairs by the desk, and one was shaped like a clown. Dean rushed for the regular one so Sam was stuck with the clown one. He chuckled at himself so Jessa smacked him upside the head.
"Grow up." She hissed, leaning against the window.
"You three picked a hell of a time to join up." Mr Cooper said, leaning back in his seat, "We've got all kinds of local trouble."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, playing clueless.
"A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first."
"Got themselves murdered?" Jessa barked, "Somehow I don't think they asked for that."
"Jessa!" Dean cautioned her. He loved his sister, but sometimes she was just as hot headed as he was and now wasn't the time.
Mr Cooper ignored her, "You ever worked a circuit before?"
"Yes, sir." Sam answered, "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."
"Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS men?"
"Uh, um, well." Sam stammered.
"We were ring-ins." Jessa answered, lying flawlessly, "Bit of this, bit of that."
"Is that so?"
"It is so."
"Do you want to know what I think? I think you lot have never worked a show in your lives."
"Nope." Dean answered, "But we really need the work. And Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." He smirked.
"Grow up, Dean." Jessa hissed again.
"See that picture?" Mr Cooper pointed to a black and white image in a gold frame, "That's my daddy."
"You look just like him." Sam said.
"He was in the business. Ran a freak show until they outlawed them most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess." He leant forward, clasping his hands in front of him, "You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three? You should go to school. Find someone, have two point five kids. Live regular."
"Been there, done that." Jessa answered, sounding bored, "Ain't for us."
"Fine. If you're sure." Cooper sat up straight, "We could use a couple more people cleaning the place up."
Jessa groaned inwardly.
"But you, little lady, I could use you somewhere else." He told Jessa.
"I look ridiculous!" Jessa exclaimed, gesturing to the get-up Mr Cooper forced her into. She was wearing a black and red dress that barely covered her, and plunging neckline showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with.
"You do." Dean agreed.
"How the hell am I supposed to help you find this cursed object if all I'm doing is taking tickets at the gate?"
"Well," Sam started, holding back his laughter, "You could scout for potential victims?"
"Great." She gave him a large faux grin, "I'm the towel boy." She pulled at her hair so that it covered more of her exposed body and tugged at the frilly hem of the ridiculous 'uniform'.
"What are you three doing standing around?" Cooper approached the siblings, "You get to the gate, and you two get to cleaning."
Jessa spent the entire of the day taking ticket stubs and faking smiles. She was beyond glad when her shift ended, and she waited for the boys by the minivan.
"What've you got?" She asked them, glad she was back in her jeans and jacket.
"We're thinking less cursed object, more remains." Dean informed her.
"Remains?"
"The fake skeletons in the fun house." Sam explained, "What if they're not so fake?"
"Doesn't seem likely, but still worth checking out."
"We also think we got our next victims."
"Great, let's go."
They followed the family back to their house and sat in wait.
"Dude, I still can't believe you told the Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Jessa said, reclining back in the shotgun seat. They briefed her on the drive over.
"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown." He corrected. "I never said it was real." Dean picked up his gun.
"Keep that down!" Sam yelled at him, reaching from the backseat to hide the weapon from view.
Dean rolled his eyes, "But get this, I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse and guess what?"
"What?" Sam and Jessa said in unison.
"Before Mr Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."
"So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?" Sam asked, a half smile appearing on his face.
"Something like that." Dean stared at the house, then looked back to his siblings, "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."
"I can't believe we have to sit here until something comes to kill these people." Jessa sighed.
"I bet you did a lot of stake outs with the feds." Dean said to her.
"A few. Don't mean I like 'em." She rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, "Wake me when something happens."
"No way. If we gotta do this, so do you." He poked her side until she sat back up.
"Fine."
They sat in wait for hours, and eventually the lights in the house turned off and the family went to sleep. It was another hour or two later that the dining room light turned back on.
"Lift off." Jessa muttered, grabbing a salt gun.
They watched as the little girl came to the front door and opened it, inviting the clown inside.
"Let's go." Dean told them.
As soon as the little girl was out of sight, the three of them climbed from the car and silently broke into the house, ready to go.
Not long later the girl and the clown rounded the corner where they were waiting. Jessa counted them down before she and Dean jumped round the corner, aiming their guns at the clown. It was then that Sam rushed in to get the girl out of harm's way.
As to be expected, the little girl started screaming as Jessa and Dean fired the salt rounds at the clown. Instead of disappearing, the clown just stumbled backwards, unfazed by the salt.
"Sam, watch out!" Jessa yelled as the clown jumped through the front door, shattering the glass, and disappeared.
A second later, the little girl's parents were there.
"What's going on here?" The dad yelled, bracing for a fight.
"Oh my god!" The mother screamed, "Get away from my daughter!"
"Who the hell are you?" The dad yelled at them, "Get out of my house! Get out!"
The three of them bolted, trying to put as much distance between them and the house before the family called the cops.
"I think it's time to ditch the minivan." Jessa panted when she was in the backseat. Her chest ached and she felt her pockets for her pills. "Shit!" She cursed, "Shit, shit, shit!"
"What?" Dean asked, panic creeping into his voice.
"I can't find my pills."
"So? We'll get you some more." He reasoned, speeding through the streets.
"Dean!" She snapped, "They have my name on them!"
"Shit!" He cursed, "Sam, they floating around the front?"
Sam frantically started searching the foot well. "I can't see them." He reached down under the seat, "Wait, I think I got 'em."
He tossed her the little yellow pill bottle.
"Cheers." She tipped a couple of pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry, longing for the moment they eased her pain.
"What kind of a spirit is immune to salt?" Dean asked, when he was sure they were far enough away.
"And you saw it, it didn't disappear." Sam added, "It turned invisible."
They drove for a while and Dean eventually parked the van on the side of the road, mostly hidden in trees.
They each grabbed their things, and Dean removed the plates and stuck them in his duffel.
"You really think they saw the plates?" Sam asked, flicking through John's journal as they walked.
"I don't want to take the chance." Dean answered, "Besides, I hate that friggin' thing."
"Is there anything in Dad's journal?" Jessa asked Sam, trying to glance at the pages and failing because of their height difference.
"Zip." He answered, flicking it closed.
"Give me your phone." She held out her hand to Sam.
"Why?"
"Because I don't have one."
Hesitantly, he put the phone in her hand, "Who are you calling?"
"Maybe Ellen or Ash know something that could help us." She said, keying in the familiar number of the roadhouse.
"Hey, do you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
"No!" Dean and Jessa answered at the same time, with equal amounts of disgust.
"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"
"The way I understand it is they had some kind of falling out." Jessa answered, "Ellen doesn't like to talk about it."
"Do you ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"
"It isn't a secret that Dad was hard to get along with, Sammy. You should know that."
Jessa kept glancing at Dean out of the corner of her eye, noting that he was tenser than he had been previously.
"What's up with you?" Sam asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this strong silent thing of yours. Its crap!"
"Oh god." Dean moaned, and Jessa slipped the phone into her pocket, knowing she was about to have to break up a fight. She wanted to let them be for a moment first, to see if they could sort it out themselves, before she had to intervene.
"I'm over it!" Sam went on, "This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."
"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean yelled, stepping in front of Sam so they stopped walking. Despite the fact that Sam had nearly a foot on Dean, he still looked the more intimidating of the pair. It was something about Sam's posture that made him resemble a teddy bear. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to!"
"No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean!" Sam interrupted. "I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, alright? I just want to make sure you're okay."
Dean shook his head and continued walking, "Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late." He stopped walking again.
"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked, looking like a kicked puppy.
"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this!" Dean roared, "I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"
"Okay." Jessa stepped between the two wearing a furious expression, "Enough! Yes, Dad is dead, but arguing and fighting isn't going to change a damned thing!"
Both boys stared at each other with steely expressions.
"You both need to grow up." She snapped, walking off.
When Jessa put a little distance between them she relaxed and let her mind run through everything she knew about the case.
"Rakshasa." She exclaimed after half an hours walking. She turned back to the boys and repeated it so they could hear. "Rakshasa."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"A race of ancient Hindu creatures. I don't remember a whole lot, most of what I know is in the books back at my place, but from what I can remember they appear in human form and feed on human flesh. They can also make themselves invisible and cannot enter a home without first being invited."
"Which is why it's dressing as a clown." Dean said, "So the children invite it in."
"What else do you know?" Sam asked her.
"Not a whole lot. They live in squalor, sleep on a bed of dead insects or something."
"Nice." Dean scoffed.
"So why didn't it eat the kids?" Sam asked, "I mean, kill the parents, why not the kids too?"
"Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Dean tried, "I don't know, maybe it just don't like the taste."
"I don't think they need to feed all that often either, I don't know. It's been a long time since I read about them."
"Well, that would make sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."
"And who do we know that worked both shows?" Jessa grinned.
"Cooper." Dean and Sam both answered.
"That picture of his father looked mighty like him."
"You thinking that was him?" Dean asked, to which Jessa nodded.
"I'm gonna give Ellen a call. See what she knows about 'em." Jessa pulled out Sam's phone and dialled.
"Harvelle's." Ellen answered.
"Ellen, its Jessa."
"How goes the Hunt, honey?"
"Making a little headway. Hey, what do you know about Rakshasa?"
"Not a whole lot. Why? Is that what you're dealing with?"
"We think so."
"Hang on, I'll give you to Ash. Maybe he knows something."
"Thanks Ellen." She waited while Ellen handed the phone to Ash.
"What can I do you for, Winchester?" Ash asked. She couldn't see him, but Jessa could imagine him reclined back in a chair with his computer in front of him and most likely a beer too, despite it being breakfast time.
"What can you tell me about Rakshasa?"
"I thought your fancy degree would have taught you that." He grinned.
"I know enough, but it's been a while."
"I bet it has." There was an underlying suggestion in his voice.
"Not gonna happen, Ash. Tell me what I need to know."
"Which is?"
"How do I kill it?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.
"That is a good question. Give me a moment." Jessa waited, impatiently humming as she walked. "A dagger of pure brass."
"Pure brass?" She asked with a scoff. "Brass can't be pure, dumbass, it's an alloy."
"Well then, smarty pants, the knife has to be all brass."
"Thanks Ash."
"Just know, my offer still stands."
"Never going to happen." She hung up the phone and handed it back to Sam. "Brass dagger." She told the boys.
"I know where we can get one." Dean said.
"Yeah, well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper," Sam started, working his logical mind, "We're gonna wanna make damn sure it's actually him."
"You're a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean said, and the siblings shared a grin.
Please feel free to leave reviews, criticism or otherwise will really help me work on through my writer's block.
Until next time,
Xoxo
