Dean and Sam arrive in a small college town where coeds are mysteriously disappearing, but the aftermath of the hunt leaves the boys struggling with something they never dreamed could happen. Will they be able to deal with the consequences or will the boys finally have to give up the hunt?
I do not own Dean and Sam, just the story.
Hey guys, thanks for reading this story! I have no idea if I will be updating this quickly in the future, but I just happened to have a couple days off from work and so I whipped out another chapter quickly for both you guys and myself. Celtic-Spaniard, in answer to your question, keep reading - I think you will be surprised to find that this will end up being nothing like Oglethorpe House. It's an idea that I haven't yet found stories on - you'll see by the end of this chapter. Hopefully you will like it just the same, though. Ironically, the idea of Weston House is just a means to an end. I came up with the name myself because it sounded "dormy." I live in the heart of West Virginia University's campus, but we don't really have any cool dorm names. Which college do you go to? Anyway, thanks for the reviews! Please continue sending them.And on to the story...
More than three hours would pass before the question would be answered, but at 24 minutes past midnight a shrill scream rang out in the darkness. The next victim had been chosen. Dean's head snapped up when he heard his brother scream and he immediately began running in the direction it had come from. "Saaaaaam!" Dean yelled, knowing instinctively that there would be no response. Rounding the corner, Dean frantically scanned the street and lawn surrounding Weston House in search of his brother, but there was no sign of him or his attacker. Dean fell to his knees, breathing heavily. "Sammy," he called again. "I'm gonna find you. Just hold on. I'm coming."
Climbing back to his feet Dean began sprinting to where he believed Sam had last been. He followed his instincts around the corner and found himself confronting two dark shadows several feet ahead of him. There was less light on this side of the building and Dean couldn't make out their identities. A ray of hope shot through his body. "Sam?" Dean asked tentatively as he moved closer.
"No, it's us. Laura and Justine," Laura's quavering voice cut through the air.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded. "I thought I told you to stay inside! I don't have time to worry about the two of you!"
"We saw it," Laura said shakily, ignoring Dean's ranting. "It was here, and then it was just...gone. It took Sam. They went down– Into the ground."
Suddenly his anger was gone. The girls had seen it take Sam. There was a chance for salvation. They knew what had happened. "You're sure you saw them disappear into the ground?" Dean repeated, more out of need for a minute to think than for the actual confirmation.
"I know it sounds crazy," Laura answered defensively, "but we saw it happen. Justine and I both did. ...and Dean, it wasn't human."
"I believe you," Dean assured them, pacing back and forth over the ground where Sam must have been just minutes before. "But now we have to figure out where they went. Where did it take him? Do you guys know if there's anything under ground level of Weston House," Dean asked desperately. "A basement? A storm cellar? Anything?"
"Yeah," Justine replied. "Of course, there's a basement. But the police searched there already. They didn't find anything."
"How do you get to it," Dean asked, already moving in the direction of the entrance to the dorm. "They had to have missed something."
Justine sprinted forward, passing Dean and motioning for him to follow her. Laura was right behind them. "It's this way. Just through this door." Justine reached for the doorknob but Dean stopped her, closing his hand tightly over her hand. "Wait. Let me go first," he ordered. Justine stepped aside and Dean quickly ran through the doorway and down the stairs into the damp, musty basement. He pulled out a flashlight and cast the thin beam of light spastically around the room, searching for anything out the ordinary and screaming Sam's name over and over. The room was suddenly bathed in light ans he was soon joined by the girls.
"We have electricity," Laura announced. "It might help in the search."
Dean simply nodded. He was too intent on finding his brother to deal with thank you's. Running to the nearest wall Dean began scrutinizing every crack and paint chip, running his hands over it and pressing in random spots.
"What are we looking for?" Laura asked, inspecting a different section of wall before she even knew what to do.
"Look for anything that could indicate a secret passageway or a hidden room. Look for anything unusual. Just look for anything that can help my brother."
The three of them searched the room for the good part of an hour with Dean's periodic shouts for Sam being the only thing breaking the silence. They'd been over every inch of the basement several times and Dean was beginning to lose faith that they'd ever find Sam. In a very un-Dean-like manner he slumped to the floor in defeat, pounding his fists into the hard cinder block wall and ignoring the bloodied knuckles that resulted.
"Dean stop," Laura ordered, stepping towards him and grabbing his fists. "You have to be quiet."
"How can you tell me to be quiet at a time like this," Dean demanded, glaring at the girl preventing his fists from slamming into the wall again. "My brother is gone. Pulled into the depths of god knows where and I have absolutely NO LEADS as to where he might have been taken. How can you tell me to be quiet!"
"NO! I mean be quiet and listen. There's something on the other side of that wall."
Dean immediately shut his mouth and listened to what Laura believed she had heard. Justine inched closer as well, straining her own ears. For what seemed like an eternity there was silence, but when hope was all but lost they heard the yell. It came through so faint it could have easily been missed by anyone not listening for it specifically. Dean pressed his ear to the cinder blocks and listened with everything he had, praying that he was hearing his brother and not some kids messing around.
The yell came through louder this time and Dean got his answer. "That was Sam! That was definitely my brother. We have to break through this wall." With renewed strength Dean frantically scanned the basement for anything he could use to break through the wall. On a workbench along one of the walls sat a pile of tools. Within the pile was a sledgehammer which Dean grabbed and raced back to the wall, swinging the tool before his feet had even come to a halt. Metal hit concrete with a sharp thwack sending chips of matter flying in every direction and leaving the start of a gaping hole in the wall. Dean took another swing and connected with the same spot as more concrete separated from the wall. After the fourth hit a tiny pinpoint hole revealed a room on the other side. Hit five generated a hole the size of the end of the sledgehammer and they were immediately struck with a wave of nausea as an overpowering stench emanated through the gaping hole. The three of them backed off for a second, gagging at the sickening sweet smell of rotting flesh that had greeted them. But Dean didn't let that keep him down for long, and soon he was back at the wall, ignoring the stench. It was sheer determination that got Dean through the wall so quickly, and twenty minutes later he was climbing through the opening he had created into the hidden dungeon on the other side.
Once again pulling out his flashlight Dean scouted the room, cautiously shining the light around trying to find Sam and looking out for his captor at the same time. They appeared to be in a massive, cavernous room carved entirely out of the mud and dirt of the ground. From what he could tell there were no support beams or anything to provide reinforcement, yet the room held it's shape. Roots protruded on all sides of the room.
It was on the second scan of the room that Dean finally found Sam dumped in a heap on the floor on the opposite side of the room. Throwing caution to the wind Dean racedover to Sam and fell to his knees beside his brother. Following his reckless lead, Laura and Justine came to rest beside Dean and Sam.
"Sam, I'm here," Dean leaned over his brother and slipped his arms under Sam's armpits, helping him to sit up. Sam shrugged Dean off as soon as he was leaning against the wall.
"It's still here, Dean," Sam said through chattering teeth. "You have to get them out of here. They're not safe."
Knowing Sam was talking about them, Laura and Justine shook their heads adamantly. "Uh uh," Laura said. "We're in this just as much as you are, now. We're staying. Just give us some weapons or something."
It seemed odd to Dean that the girls had never asked the obvious question of how. Both of them had simply accepted the fact that a strange creature had pulled itself and Sam literally into the ground where they had landed in a mud carved room with no way for a human to enter or exit. They didn't question the boys when Dean opened his coat and revealed the artillery closet hidden beneath his coat which contained both civilian weapons and supernatural weapons. Dean offered the girls their choice of holy water, stakes, and potions, but he was unwilling to hand them any of the guns, assuming they wouldn't know how to use them safely.
"Dean, help me stand," Sam ordered weakly.
"I think you should just sit there for a little bit, Sammy," Dean replied, laying his hand on Sam's shoulder to keep him sitting.
"It's Sam," he corrected his brother. "I'm fine. I just got the wind knocked out of me. And we don't have time for this. I don't know what happened to it, but it didn't leave. It'll be back. I'm not meant to be left alive."
"How do you know that?" Dean demanded, finally relenting and helping his brother to stand.
"Because of that." Sam grabbed the flashlight from his brother's hand and aimed it at the ground several feet to the right and revealing a large pit dug into the dirt floor. As the group inched closer to it the putrid smell that had invaded their senses from the second the sledgehammer had gone through the wall became stronger and stronger. The light was shone into the deep pit and gasps followed. Hands reached up to cover mouths and noses and it wasn't long before Justine had to back off into a corner to be sick in private. The others looked though, mesmerized and unable to turn away despite the grotesque sight that met their eyes. In the pit lay the bodies of all seventeen coeds that had gone missing, their bodies in various stages of decay. Everyone of them was still fully clothed and had been laid face down, side by side, in ritualistic fashion. Most disturbing, though, was the fact that each one of them had their skulls cracked open and inside was nothing.
"He ate their brains," Sam explained unnecessarily. "He fed off of them."
There wasn't much time to dwell on the image in front of them, though, because another shrill scream invaded their world. This time it came from Justine and the other three looked up just in time to see her body fly across the room. They heard the thud as she connected with solid matter, but they didn't have resources to go after her. The creature was closing in on them and Dean and Sam were frantically working through their cache of weapons trying to find the one that would kill him.
As the creature stepped into the light of the flashlight Dean recoiled in horror. He was the only one yet to see it. 'Well at least he's consistent,' Dean thought to himself sarcastically. In front of him towered the creature. It wore no clothes, and it's fat greyish body was shriveled and wrinkled. He looked like one giant brain. And he was standing just inches away from Dean.
"Dude, you might want to thing about a breath mint, brain boy," Dean remarked as he caught a whiff of the rancid, moist breath. As if in response the creature reached one of it's plump arms out and smacked at Dean, sending him hurling several feet to the side and leaving him with a dislocated shoulder.
Already armed with the knowledge of how strong the brain creature was Sam frantically turned to Laura. "Run!" he ordered as he was lifted bodily into the air. Sam kicked with everything he had while struggling to grab his knife from the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled it out triumphantly and slashed out. The knife connected with the mushy brain-like matter in the creature's neck and slid in easily as it howled with anger. It flung Sam across the room like a rag doll and shifted it's attention back to Dean who was slowly climbing to his feet, his left arm hanging limply by his side.
While the creature had been aiming it's attention on Sam, Dean had had enough time to load his gun with the silver bullets and he now aimed it where the heart should be and fired. The creature faltered, but recovered quickly and came after Dean, angrier than ever. Dean backed up, his hands searching once again for a weapon and closing around the wooden stake. He lashed out and made contact in the flesh just above where the bullet had entered. Now wild with rage the creature reached out and grabbed Dean by the throat, lifting him high off the ground. Dean struggled to free himself from the creature's firm grasp. His lungs burned as they used up the last bit of air, but it was impossible to break free. Sam was nowhere to be seen and the girls didn't stand a chance at fighting this thing. Dean was on his own, and his time on this earth was fast approaching its end. He had one more chance to save everyone. Removing the last iota of salvation he had, Dean stopped trying to tear the creatures hand from his throat and reached into his coat one last time for the sword that hung from his waistband. He pulled it out and swung with his last ounce of strength, connecting with the creature's neck and separating it's head from the rest of it's body.
Dean dropped like a sack of potatoes on the ground and gratefully sucked in breath after breath of the putrid, life giving air. His throat screamed in pain, helping him forget all about the throbbing in his shoulder. The brain creature had fallen a few feet away, dead as a doornail. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. This nightmare was over. And yet, not so much.
"Dean, get over here. Your brother!" Dean snapped out of his reverie when Laura's frantic cries broke the silence. He scrambled to his feet and over to where Sam lay motionless on the ground.
"Sam? Sammy?" Dean crouched beside his brother and surveyed the situation. A small trickle of blood flowed from Sam's mouth and Dean could hear the gurgling sound of his breathing, indicating fluid in his lungs. Sam stared wide-eyed back at Dean, terror in his eyes as he struggled to suck in a full breath of air.
"Just hold on, little brother. I'm gonna get you out of here. Brain boy's dead and everything's gonna be fine now."
"What can I do?" Laura asked anxiously, her eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Sam.
"Go check on Justine," Dean said, his eyes never wavering from his brother. "We're gonna get you out of here as soon as the girls get back," Dean assured Sam. Dean allowed himself to survey the room for a minute, trying to figure out how he was going to get Sam out of the room. They had only waited until the hole in the wall was big enough to climb through, so it was still several feet off the ground. There was no way Sam would be able to climb through it in his condition, and Dean only had one good arm to support his brother. How would they do this?
"She's dead," Laura said monotonously as she returned to the boys, interrupting Dean's thoughts. The reality would probably hit her later, but she was still holding strong while the situation demanded it. "Let's get your brother out of here while we still can."
"OK, Sammy. We're gonna get you sitting. Nice and easy." Dean began to lift Sam's arm, draping it loosely over his shoulders and wincing as the weight settled on his injured shoulder. It occurred to Dean that he'd called Sam Sammy twice without protest. The sheer fact of that realization put Dean into hyper gear and he ordered Laura to Sam's other side as he prepared to lift.
"Dean stop!" Sam cried desperately. "Put me down, please." Sam coughed painfully as the exertion of raising his voice was too much for his weakened lungs. Blood sprayed in specks on the dirt floor.
"Sammy, we've got to get you out of here," Dean protested. "You're hurt. We have to get you to a hospital."
Sam's breathing was getting shallower and he sucked in a raspy breath before he was able to speak. "You can't move me," he insisted. "Dean, I can't feel my legs."