A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, it's overwhelmingly awesome that I'm getting such a huge response to my first work in the realm of Supernatural. I'm glad everyone's enjoying it! Keep it up!
Chapter 5
The second the brothers stepped out of the circle, they knew the Whooper was aware of it. A soft breath passed over the ground and spun around their legs as if to push them down the trail.
"Dean?" Ron's voice asked.
Dean turned back.
"If you're going to try to exorcise the spirit, it won't work. A priest has already attempted it. He died." Ron spoke.
Dean was silent as he cast stony hazel eyes over the three men inside the circle.
"Stay in the circle." Dean finalized before turning away again and walking down the trail toward Whooper spring. Sam followed in uneasy silence.
In the dark, the trail seemed long. With only the light of the moon to lead them, it seemed even longer. It twisted and turned through the trees. It confused and taunted them with whispering breaths of malice carried by the wind from the trail's end. A strong chill had settled in the air and small tendrils of steam came from each man's mouth with every exhale. Sam rubbed his cold hands against his bare arms and tried to stop shivering. Dean cast sympathetic glances to his younger brother and wished that there was something he could do to help, but he'd left his jacket back at the fire as well.
Through the forest to the right, the rippling river rushed by with a fearful cry of sorrow and longing. Dean squinted through the trees and saw the silver moon dancing atop the water to release shimmering silver diamonds with every step. Shadows slithered across the path with sick amusement at the darkness they created as they moved.
Dean and Sam pressed on through the deafening silence that claimed them and coated them in a thick sheet. The maliciously whispering breeze continued to taunt them, laughing in their ears and sending soft breaths to prance across their faces and make them shiver.
A clearing loomed ahead and Dean was the first to step forward. The moon bathed it in a soft glow that illuminated the trees in pale silver and a slight inlet from the river grabbed greedily at the shoreline. The water was dark and the moon sent crystalline light bouncing off of it to shimmer in the night.
The heavy chill still sat in the night, blanketing all in a strong sense of overwhelming cold. Foggy steam began to hover above the inlet and the crystal light kept dancing on the darkened water.
"Wrong spring. We have to keep going." Dean replied. Sam nodded in the dark, but he was invisible to all eyes as the darkness swallowed him up.
A cloud crossed the face of the moon and ruthlessly murdered any light the silver orb cast down to the cold Earth on which the supernatural walked among the living.
Dean kept walking, sensing his way down the path, and going where the forces tugged him. His eyes scampered anxiously across the ground, looking into the far corners of the darkened woodland for any secrets that lurked deep in the shadows. Occasionally he tossed a glance into the night behind him, or called his brother's name to be sure he was still following. Each time, Dean received Sam's reply in return and those replies allowed for him to relax a bit and focus on what lay ahead.
Another clearing, another inlet, this was the right one. Dean knew it. He could feel the dense sorrow hanging in the air and heard it crying in the background. He felt cold fear rippling up and down his spine, the hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably and he shivered as a sharp chill jolted through him. The forest seemed to draw in a breath and the next second the horrific screaming slashed through the night and echoed fiercely in his head.
He brought his cold hands up to cover his ears and the screaming droned out to a loud hum.
"Sammy?" Dean yelled, stumbling in the dark in search of his little brother. He wanted to know that Sam was all right, wanted to be sure he was safe, he wanted to provide a protection against the screaming evil that shouted through the forest.
A hand gripped his side and he turned to see Sam's figure in the night. His brother's eyes locked onto his own and Sam nodded. He was fine.
Dean searched the clearing as the hazy light from the moon once again crept through the woodlands to touch the dark corners of the night. He searched in silence, and he saw it. The shapeless shadow rose from the ground and green eyes bored into him. The screaming grew in intensity and the shadow drifted toward Sam and himself. On pure instinct, he stepped in front of his brother to protect him.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam hissed.
"Shut up Sammy. Stay behind me."
The shadow continued to advance and Dean cast his eyes down to the ground and saw with some curiosity that a wooden marker was sticking through the dirt. Further investigation, showed that he and Sam were standing directly in front of the marker.
The shadow advanced and Dean hurriedly shoved Sam off of the grave and into the shadows, hiding him from the prying green eyes of the Whooper. With weak knees, Dean stepped off of the ground on which he stood and the Whooper vanished, but the screams still thrashed through the night.
"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked.
"I'm fine. What the hell do you think you were doing?" Sam asked, his voice was hard, but still thankful.
"What did it look like?" Dean questioned.
"I'm old enough to handle myself Dean, you could've gotten yourself killed!"
Dean was quiet as he kept an intense gaze on Sam's pale face, eerily illuminated by the moon.
"We're here. Now, if there are bones buried here, we'll try and put the spirit to rest." Dean replied no longer dwelling on Sam's previous words.
"You know what happens when the dirt is disturbed, Dean. We'll never be able to uncover him. He'll kill us first."
"Then let's hope it's a shallow grave."
Sam only nodded and watched as Dean dropped to his knees next to the grave and scratched at the hard ground with his bare hands. Neither had thought to bring a shovel. Within seconds, the air burst with the sounds of screaming and a shadowy hand pierced the ground to grab Dean, who immediately began to struggle wildly in the grasp of the Whooper.
"Dean!" Sam yelled and grabbed a handful of Dean's shirt to pull him back. He couldn't, and his eyes widened in worry as Dean was pulled into the grave.
"Dean!" Sam called when his grip slipped and Dean vanished.
Sam let wild eyes roam over the ground as he searched for his older brother to resurface. He watched in detached amazement, as the ground seemed to hollow and cave in to reveal a pile of dusty bones crumpled in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of the hole. Dean was nowhere to be seen.
Sam cursed aloud and dug into his pocket for a match. He pulled it out, struck it and tossed it into the hole. The bones snapped and crackled in the heat and Sam watched as they blackened and sunk deeper into the ground. Flames leapt from the hole and engulfed the old wooden marker to disintegrate it in an orange glow.
The flames died away, and so did the screaming. Sam searched with desperate eyes to find his brother, but didn't succeed. Dean was nowhere to be found.
