Chapter 8

Before Sam had time to give into a complete emotional and mental breakdown, his salvation came. A knock, a single knock, and Sam could feel his world beginning to shift.

"Anyone in there?" the woman's voice so sweet, filled with concern. Sam brought his arm up and began the search for the doorknob, grabbed it and used it to brace himself as he began to stand on his weak legs. He cracked the door open bringing only his left side into view, carefully concealing the knife he clenched firmly in his right hand. Just in case.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?" At that moment Sam realized how horrible he must look. His face was still sticky from his tears, and he guessed that his eyes were probably red and puffy. Not to mention the fact he had been raking his fingers through his hair and God only knew how bad that had added to his present state of dishevelment.

"Uh, not really." Came the reply.

"I saw you outside a while ago. You looked lost." Sam's heart leapt in his chest. So someone did see me. Oh, God, please let her help me!

"I'm blind" Sam said the words as if they were fact, Fact not truth. He didn't believe the words, he couldn't, and he began to remind himself that this would only be temporary, it had to be.

"I could see that." Sam could hear the smile on her face.

"Well, I'm still getting used to it, and my brother—he left and I don't know where he is. I tried calling him but he's not answering." Sam replied pulling his phone from his pocket as if making the stranger view the item made his story more believable. He felt the stranger's hand brush his and begin to take his phone, Sam was about to lash out, but the stranger anticipated his reaction.

"You're phone's dead. How about you use mine?"

"It is? Oh, uh, that would be nice. Thank you." Sam was overwhelmed with gratitude as he reached out to take the stranger's gift. He pulled his hand back when he realized that it would take him an hour to figure out the buttons on the foreign object.

"Um, could you dial the number for me?" Sam asked, as a frown crept on his face. I can't believe I have to ask someone to do that for me. Six year olds can dial a phone.

"Sure, honey. Now, what's your brother's number?"

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Dean sprawled out on the bed, his eyes fixed on the closed bathroom door as he listened to Jessie moving around in there. She's lying to me. I know I checked behind the table. But why would anyone lie over a phone call? And why would Sam call me?

Dean felt like he couldn't think straight. Jessie had said that all he did was talk about his brother. But his current memory of Sam was hazy and every time he tried to break through the fog, it seemed Jessie was always there to distract him. It was as if the emotion of the relationship was removed from the equation, and Dean no longer felt any strong tie to the man he called his brother. The illusive phone call had given way to the impression he was supposed to be worried about Sam, but he couldn't figure out why he should be, other than he had left him alone. And while that one thought alone had managed to work him into a state of panic fairly quickly, it now left him confused. Something was missing, it was like when he had gotten a new tape and even though he listened to it over and over, still forgot the words.

Dean's eyes lingered on the bathroom door for a couple more minutes, and when he was sure that Jessie wasn't coming out anytime soon, he made his way to the door and stepped out into the hall. He flipped his phone open and began scrolling through his contacts. They should make these things in order of importance, not alphabetically. What genius thought this one up?

The second Sam's name became illuminated, he hit send and waited. There was no ring, his call was sent immediately to voicemail. That's weird. Sam always leaves his phone on.

Choosing not to leave a message, Dean hung up and was about to try again when he heard the door creak behind him and turned to see Jessie glaring back at him.

Jessie could have slapped herself for being so stupid. She knew that Dean was in a torn emotional state and she had left him alone to dwell in it. It was hard enough for her to latch on when people's emotions were running wild, but the challenge increased ten-fold when they were away from her presence for extended periods of time. She had left Dean alone to his thoughts twice this morning, and the web of confusion she had wrought so carefully was beginning to lose its hold. I guess I'm just going to have to work a little harder.

"So, Dean, are you ready to see that house I was telling you about?" Jessie asked, silently reminding herself to tread carefully.

"Huh? Oh, well, Jessie, you see—um…I don't think so. Not today." Dean mumbled as he pushed past Jessie retreating back into the hotel room to gather his stuff.

"Is this about your phone again?" What is with this guy?

"No. It's not about the phone. It's about my brother. I left him and now he's not answering his phone. And…and…I think, maybe, something's wrong. You know? Well, I'm not sure—I can't really remember. I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"No, not really" Dean bit his bottom lip upon hearing her abrupt reply. Is there any girl on this entire planet that doesn't think I'm crazy?

"Look, I'm sorry. Last night was the best night I've had in a long time, but I really need to go." Jessie watched as Dean began to put his jacket on and sighed. React, Jessie, you're gonna lose him.

"Dean, wait!" Jessie smiled when he actually did. At least he's listening "What if we swing by the hotel first before we go to the house. We need to pick up your car anyway, and you can check up on your brother and once you see that he is fine—and he is fine, trust me. And then, well, we can enjoy the rest of the day together." Say Yes, Dean.

"I guess that'll work, but if my brother's not ok, then I'm staying with him and you're just going to have to deal with it." Jessie was slightly taken back by the Dean's harsh reply but chalked it up to him just being a over-protective older brother and went to get her keys. Twenty minutes later, she was following the Impala across the parish to the Wayside Motel.

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"It's busy." Sam stated, defeat evident in the admission.

"Well, did he mention where he was going before he left? Leave you an address or a name of a place?" Images from his most recent nightmare replayed in Sam's mind. He knew where Dean was gonna be. Lying never came easy to Sam, he loathed it especially when the person he had to lie to had been nothing but helpful. He had to fight every day to keep the truth from Jess and that alone almost killed him. Desperate times call for desperate measures though. Right?

"Well, he mentioned this old house he wanted to check out. I think he said it used to be a plantation or something like that." Sam knew it was vague, but it was the best he could do, and if the stranger was from around here then she should know what he was talking about.

"Well, Terrabone has a few plantations. But the Toliver place is the closest to this hotel. It's a fantastic home—got this great red door that just--"

"That's it! That's the house!" Sam couldn't contain his excitement. I'm gonna be able to save him. I'm gonna be able to help Dean! Toliver…Why does that sound familiar? Who cares?

"Alright then. What are we waiting for?" Sam felt the stranger's gentle touch on his arm as she continued, "Okay, do you need me to get anything for you?"

"No, uh, just give me a minute." Sam bent down to get his backpack and managed to unzip it and conceal his knife fairly easily before shouldering the pack and grasping his stick. Well, you helped me before, but just so you know, if I think my brother is somewhere within a mile radius, I'm dumping you.

Sam expected for the women to lead him to a car; instead she informed him that the Toliver home was only a mile and a half away. She also had mentioned that he looked as if he needed the exercise as well as the sun because he looked paler than the moon. At first Sam had complained, but the afternoon sun wasn't quite as hard on his eyes and he was enjoying the company.

He had asked her name and she had said Myrah. It was a new name to Sam, but he couldn't help thinking it sounded like an old-fashioned one. One thing was for sure, Myrah knew a lot about the history of the Toliver plantation. The more she talked about it, the more Sam was intrigued.

"So, Lady Toliver was killed by her husband?"

"So the legend goes."

"So where did they bury her?" the question came without thinking now, he had asked it so many times in the past 6 months.

"What kind of question is that?" Myrah laughed.

"Just curious." Sam replied defensively.

"Well, if you must know, she wasn't. Buried, I mean. Apparently, the story goes that there wasn't anything left of her to bury after Lord Toliver was done with her. Some people even go as far as to say that the hallways turned into seas of blood as he continued to chop away at her. Gross, huh?"

The question lingered unanswered in the air. The more Myrah revealed, the more Sam pondered why the story sounded so familiar. Maybe it's tied to my nightmare somehow.

"Okay, we're here. Just take a step up—that's it. Good, I think you're getting the hang of all this." Sam smiled at the encouragement as he heard Myrah open the door. Taking his hand she guided him into what she described as the main foyer, closing the door behind her. Sam was startled by the sound but his mind shifted back to Myrah as she began going into all kinds of facts and information regarding the abandoned relic, her voice was quiet almost reverent as she spoke.

"Myrah?" Sam interrupted. He spoke gently, not wanting her to think he was rude.

"Yes, Sam."

"How do you know all this stuff? I mean, it's just that you seem to know everything about this house, far more than the local legends reveal." Sam couldn't help it. His curiosity and instinct were kicking in. Something was off.

"Well, of course I do." Sam tensed as he felt her hand on his shoulder. Her warm touch that once had brought him comfort now made his blood run cold. Everything in him told him to run, but his body wouldn't move. Her icy grip sent chills down his spine and her voice penetrated to his core as revelation racked his body.

"I'm the Lady of the house."

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So what'd you think? good or bad? worth the wait? please R&R--inspires me to write more. Thanx.