AN: Thanks for the reviews. Here's Chapter 2. Please Review.

The next morning Dean and Sam stood at the back of Marion's funeral. The entire town was there. Considering it was a small town, it was still a relatively small funeral.

Marian's parents were in the front row. Her father was dressed in a black suit holding his sobbing wife. The preacher was telling stories about Marion. This was one of the few towns that the preacher actually knew the person who died and could relay first hand accounts of their life.

Rick and Dorian were standing at the back of the crowd. Dorian was dressed in an elegant black dress. Her father towered over her in a black suit. He had his arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders. Even from where the brothers were standing they could see she was uncomfortable.

Dorian turned her head and saw the two men standing behind her. Dean and Sam smiled sadly at her.

"She's got a nice bruise on her cheek," Dean said.

"Guess her father was a little pissed."

She gestured her head towards the woods. Sam nodded in understanding.

Dorian turned back towards the funeral and Sam and Dean walked quietly to the woods.

"Why do you think she wants us to come here?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Probably so she can talk to us away from her father. He did tell us to stay away from her."

"Exactly," Dorian said walking up to them. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes were red from crying. "If my father saw me talking to you he'd be less than happy."

"Run into a door?" Dean asked.

She smiled. "Something like that. What do you want?"

"You wanted us to come here," Sam said.

"Because you wouldn't be at the funeral unless you wanted something, and I'm not going to let you interrogate her parents right now," She said adamantly. It was partially true. She also had a feeling that there was more to these guys than they were letting on.

"Well you know we're FBI," Dean said. "You can't exactly stop it."

She waved him off. "I don't know who you are, but FBI is not it."

Dean smiled. "How do you know that?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. "A. You don't dress like FBI. B. You sure as hell don't act like FBI. C. You're both way to hot to be FBI. So I'll ask you again. Who are you and what is it that you want?"

"Well I'm really Sam and that's really Dean."

"That's a start. At least your names are real. You're because why?"

"We're just trying to find out what's going on here," Sam said sincerely.

She nodded. "I get that. Why?"

"Because, something is killing innocent kids," Dean said.

"Something?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't think it's human," Sam explained. "I know it sounds crazy, but the way the bodies are burned and nothing else is, it's not a normal fire."

"No, it's not," Dorian said. "But nobody in this hick town is going to like being questioned about it."

"So you know it's not normal?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I at first I thought it was hell fire, but then I realized that hell fire would burn down the entire house, not just the body, so I've been trying to figure out what it is on my own," She took a breath. "But in this town, not so easy."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"I told you, you either believe in God, or you're evil," She said. "You ask crazy questions or go around poking into supernatural stuff and you'll be deemed devil worshippers."

"It's not going to stop until someone finds out what's causing it," Dean said. "Pretending it's an accident is not going to make it go away."

"I know that," She said. "Like I said I'm trying to find out what it is myself."

Sam sat down on a log. "So then they think you're a devil worshipper?"

She shrugged and sat down next to him. "They have their doubts about my loyalty to God, but my father makes sure I attend Church every Sunday and all that good stuff, so they don't really say anything."

"Do you believe in God?" Dean asked.

"Not in their God, no," Dorian replied.

"This must be hard for you," Sam said, changing the subject. "I mean you're mom died in a fire right?"

Dorian tensed. "So I'm told."

"How old were you when she died?" Dean asked.

"Three," She replied. "They say the house was struck by lightning during a storm. It caught on fire and it was all my dad could do just to get me out."

"You don't sound like you're convinced," Dean said. He was trying to explore the topic without pissing her off and having her storm away.

"There was a storm," Dorian said. "But the fire wasn't accidental, of that I'm sure."

"How do you know?" Sam asked. "I mean you were three."

"My mom was a witch," Dorian said tentatively. She began tugging at her hair. "She practiced the craft. She kept it a secret from my father, but one of the women in town found out and then my father found out. He didn't like that too much and the town didn't like that too much, so they took her and tied her up in the house and set it on fire."

"You're dad didn't do anything to stop it?" Dean asked, intrigued by the story.

"No, my dad was in on it," She replied bitterly. "He's the one who started the whole thing. I think."

"How do you know all this?" Sam asked.

"A few years ago I started having these dreams," Dorian explained. "It was always the same thing. Mom and Dad arguing, the towns people pissed off and her being tied up inside of the house while it was on fire. They burned her at the stake so to speak." She stood up and started pacing. "I know it's just a dream, but I also know it's real. Almost everyone was in on it, but she wasn't bad you know."

"Witches usually aren't," Sam said.

"It would explain the burnings," Dean said. "Alexus's spirit is probably angry. Instead of taking out on the people who murdered her, she's going after their kids."

"No way," Dorian exclaimed. "My mom wouldn't murder innocent kids."

"It's not your mother," Sam said. "It's only her rage that's left behind."

"I don't care what you say," She snapped. "She wouldn't do that." She stood up. "I'll prove it, tonight."

"How exactly are you going to do that?" Sam asked.

"We'll conjure her spirit," Dorian said. "Where are you staying?"

"Room 6 at the Hotel," Dean said. "You know how to conjure spirits?"

"When I said my mom was a witch I didn't mean I wanna be witch," She said. "She was a real witch and so am I."

"Is that how you got those rope burns on your wrists?" Sam asked.

Dorian pulled up her sleeve and traced the mark on her wrists. "My father knows I take after my mother and he doesn't like it. Every once in a while he ties me to the bed and tries to pray over me. He says he's trying to expel the demon inside of me."

"Does he try and beat it out of you too?" Dean drawled.

She rolled her eyes. "No, that he does for fun."

"Why do you stay?" Sam asked. "I mean you're eighteen, right?"

"Nineteen and I don't have anywhere to go," Dorian said. "But look, I better get back before my dad figures out I'm gone. I'll meet you guys at your hotel tonight at eleven all right?"

They nodded.

"Hey are you sure your dad isn't going to stop you?" Dean asked.

She shook her head. "No, when I need to get out I drug his evening cup of coffee."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm joking, relax," Dorian smiled. "He's asleep by ten every night. I'll sneak out and he'll never be the wiser."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked. "We don't want to give your dad any reason to go after you."

"Look if I'm not there by eleven thirty, I'm probably unconscious and won't make it at all," She joked.

Sam pointed at her. "Not funny."

"Relax, I'll be there," She said. "I'll see you guys later."

She waved and walked back through the woods.

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