Chapter 2

Las Vegas, Nevada

3 weeks later

" Blackjack!" The dealer called out. The sound of claps and shouts surrounded the table.

Sam walked up to one side of the table. " Dean are you going to be done soon?"

"Oh hey Sammy! Would you look at this man, four hundred dollars in chips. I'm hot right now and I'm not just talking about looks." Dean said with a grin wiped across his face.

"As a matter of fact…" Dean leaned in close to Sam, "How about doing you Jennifer Love Hewitt thing and help me out with the next hand."

Sam sighed. " Dean I'm going back to the motel. I suggest you do the same, I found a new lead for the next job and…."

"What? I can't hear you, too much noise." Dean said with sarcasm.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away.

-2 hours later-

Dean walked in to the motel room, it was 2 a.m. and he was expecting Sam to be sleep.

What do you know, geek boy is still sitting at the laptop. Dean thought.

"Can't sleep?" Dean said casually shutting the door and throwing his jacket onto the bed.

" Nah, just studying up for the next job." Sam said while yawning.

" I see, so where to next?"

" San Jose, California. The Winchester Mansion."

" Winchester, that's kind of ironic isn't it."

" That's exactly what I said, but who knows, maybe it's a sign. Dad does mention it in his journal."

"Yeah well, we should hit the sack." Dean said, throwing a pillow at Sam's head. "Isn't it like 5 hours to San Jose from here?"

"Try 8"

Dean winced. He really didn't want to get up early in the morning. Hell, it was morning.

Sam closed the laptop and hopped into bed.

"Dean."

"Yea Sam?"

"Don't try to use my gift for your own means of compensation purposes, or twisted pleasure."

Dean laughed. "Oh so now it's a gift."

"Yeah….I guess in a way." Sam said with a smirk.

My gift, my curse, my destiny.

- Next day-

" Okay so what else do we know about this mansion?" Dean asked while sipping his coffee in one hand and steering with the other.

Sam's eyes were scanning the screen of the laptop. "Uh.. It says it was originally built in 1884 by Sarah Pardee Winchester. In 1862 , in New Haven, Connecticut , she married William Winchester. He was the only son of the owner of the Winchester Repeating Arms Company, Oliver Winchester. The couple had one daughter, Annie, who died while an infant. Sarah fell into a deep depression following the death of her daughter, and the couple did not have any more children. Oliver died in 1880, quickly followed in March 1881 by William, who died of tuberculosis, giving Sarah approximately 50 percent ownership in the Winchester company and an income of $1,000 a day."

"Whew that's a nice chunk of change." Dean said.

"Yeah. It also says that Sarah felt that her family was cursed."

That sounds familiar. Sam thought.

"Go on."

"She sought out spiritualists to determine what she should do. A medium told Sarah that the Winchester family was cursed by the spirits of all the people who had been killed by the Winchester rifle, and that she should move west and build a house for herself and the spirits. The medium told Sarah that should construction ever stop on the house that she would die. The building continued on the house for thirty eight years. After Sarah died she left the house to her niece, who opened it for tours a couple years later."

"Yeah so what happened there recently?"

Sam pulled up an California post newspaper article on the screen. " Says that a young man, Carlos Verde was found dead in one of the living rooms. His girlfriend Michelle Steele was found five feet away from his body, apparently she fainted. She told authorities that Carlos was shot through the head by some invisible force."

" So nothing happened to her?"

"Nope."

" Is there a number we can call to find out where she is?"

Sam dialed the number at the bottom of the page.

" Okay… yea… thank you." Sam hung up his cell.

"So?"

" They can't give out personal information, but they did say she checked into a temporary psychiatric confinement facility."

"A.k.a. a house for the nutty."

"Right."

"Well looks like we have two more hours to go until we get there, might as well pass the time." Dean said reaching for one of his Black Sabbath tapes.

Sam glared at him. " Don't even think about."

"Shut your cake hole Sammy."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."