Sounds Like Shadows

So, I'm thinking the guy in the rafters surprised you a little bit? At least it was more fun than a crazed barn owl attack, which was my other option… But in all seriousness, thanks a bunch for the reviews. Y'all made my day.

Chapter Three

Dean looked up from where he was half-sitting, half-lying in the hay. "Well, there's something you don't see every day."

Whoever the guy was, he was very, very dead. His neck had been snapped from the sudden fall. Despite that, he was staring longingly down at them from about fifteen feet off the ground, his body gently swaying back and forth, wearing jeans and a standard farmer-type flannel shirt.

"Cut me down?"

"All right. That's almost the freakiest thing I've seen today," Dean observed.

"Almost?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"You've gotta admit this has not been one of our better days," Dean said, still looking up at the body in the rafters. "Do I need to mention the car again?"

"Cut me down?"

"Dude, is he going to keep saying that until we do? Cause it's already getting on my nerves."

"Do you think we even can?" Sam asked, his face horrified as they looked up at the ghost.

"Hey, you feel like crawling up there and giving it a try, be my guest," Dean said. Sam momentarily quit staring up into the rafters to glare at him. "Fine, we could shoot him," Dean offered. "He'd at least dissolve for a while. Is there anything with rock salt in that duffel bag?"

Dean didn't know if it would do any good, but he'd love to take a pot shot at whatever was outside the barn too. If nothing else, it would make him feel better. His forearm was killing him where the trunk had slammed down against it, his leg was throbbing like it might fall off and the scratches across his shoulders weren't feeling much better. Judging from the look of the scratches on his brother's back, they probably both looked like they'd gotten into a fight with Wolverine and lost.

What he wouldn't do to have Marigold with him now, but Dean knew for a fact she was still sitting in the trunk of the car. He didn't like leaving his sawed-off shotgun in the duffel bag. He needed to rig up some sort of holster for her. It might be a little Mad Max, but then he wouldn't be in this mess if she'd been with him. No doubt Sam would never let him live it down, just like he'd never live it down if Sam found out he'd named his shotgun. But Marigold was as reliable as they came and you didn't leave your best girl home on a Saturday night.

"I've got some salt left," Sam said, "but the only gun is loaded with wrought iron."

"Well, that's just perfect," Dean bit out. "We've got a pissed off ghost grizzly something prowling around outside, a dead dude hanging from the roof and everything we need is sitting in the trunk 300 yards away. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink."

"Cut me down?"

"Dude, SHUT UP!" Dean shouted, his frustration getting the better of him. "You're a freaking ghost! We can't cut you down!"

"Cut me down?"

"Sam, give me the gun," Dean held out his hand for it. "I'm going to have to shoot him on general principle."

"Dean, calm down," Sam said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean bellowed. "Could this situation get any worse?"

"Cut me down?"

"I said SHUT UP! Get your own freaking self down!"

As they watched, the ghost reached out its arms and grasped the rope above the knot. He pulled himself up, loosening the noose and pulled his head out of it. He then let go of the rope and dropped to the floor, his knees bending deeply as he landed. The man straightened slowly, standing between the two brothers.

Sam backed up against the barn wall. "I think you were saying something about it getting worse?"

"Sam, stay back," Dean ordered. "Where's the salt?"

"I put it back in the bag," Sam answered.

A massive blow shook the barn as something slammed into the wall directly behind Sam. He tumbled forward from the force and landed in a heap on the floor within reaching distance of the ghost. He scooted back on all fours, but halted as the thing outside crashed against the wall again causing the wood to splinter.

"You've got the gun, Sam. Shoot something. I really don't care which one," Dean said hurriedly.

Sam rolled onto his back and shot through the wall just as the wood shuddered beneath another blow. A half-scream, half-snarl filled the night and they both heard heavy steps moving away from the barn.

Sam stood swiftly, backing away from the ghost who was now taking halting steps toward him.

"I just want to leave," the ghost said, his voice echoing up into the rafters. "She won't let me leave."

Sam took one step sideways as if to get out of the ghost's way before a roar sounded outside the barn. Dean saw the wall jolt directly behind Sam. His brother screamed and Dean saw the tips of claws appear through Sam's shoulder.

Feel free to blame the length of this chapter on my boss calling me in to work. I certainly do. Let me think… Dean… work…Yeah, I'm gonna go with Dean. This does mean I'll get away a little early and tomorrow's chapter will be longer, honest.