Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural...I just fanwanked this story ;)

tracer2032-Thanks for the Voodoo New Orleans insight. I definitely changed somethings around because of it!

snchills-Thanks for the kind words! Means a lot that you dropped a couple of lines!

MacCartney-Well...hopefully this post covers alittle bit about the party and the Ladies. More on them will appear later ;)

Here is the next Chap...Hidden Meanings and Stated Words

The storm that had started while Dean had walked into Ophelia's place thickened with rage. Dean stood at the door looking out at the rain. It was barely visible outside. It reminded Dean of a storm one time that the Winchesters ran into in Wisconsin during the dead of winter. He remembered how scared Sam had gotten and it had taken Dean singing to him to get him to shut up. He turned back around to see Laramie walking around with candles, placing some in different spots along with on the table in which Dean had been working for the past couple of hours.

"What are those for?" Dean asked. The electricity was working fine. Until the next clap of thunder and lightning knocked the lights out before Laramie could answer.

"The candles are in case the electricity goes out. It doesn't take much for them to go out," Laramie stated unknowing that the lights had just gone out. Dean grinned in the dark at her foresight.

"Have any matches?" he asked. He heard Laramie walk away from her before walking back.

"Here, don't like it in my world Dean?" she asked. Before Dean could respond, Ophelia called for granddaughter in the kitchen. Laramie turned and carefully made her way into the kitchen. Dean lit the candles one by one until the dining area gave off an eerie glow.

He sat down to look at the flyer again where his leather coat was hanging on the chair, along with stuff that he printed off from the library. Right now, his best lead was Alan who at best had to be human. There just seemed to be something off about how he was picking his victims and why Ophelia's Place? It just seemed off to him. Everything about this job was off.

"Dean dear, you ready to think about something else?" Ophelia asked as she walked into the room with a candle in one hand and a stack of paper in another. Dean nodded his head.

"I'm open to distraction," he stated as he took the papers from Ophelia.

"You remind me of him, your father," she stated with a smile. "How's your brother?" Dean paused at the word brother. He considered lying but what was the point; sometimes older women could read him like a book.

"I actually don't know. I haven't talked to him in about four years," Dean stated as he pulled a candle closer to the first paper. "Is this the seating chart from the night this all started?" Ophelia nodded to him. She stared at the Winchester as he began to read through the papers. He was concerned for them but at the same time was missing something. She wondered what it could be.

"Here is the tape," Laramie stated as she floated into the room like a ghost with no light in her hands. Dean jumped a mile high at the sight of her. Ophelia laughed at the antics as she took the tape from her granddaughter. Laramie pulled up a chair to the table to wait for what was going to happen next.

"Were you here that night?" Dean asked as he flipped through the sheets. Ophelia nodded.

"I wasn't here. I was at a friend's that night," Laramie stated. She pulled out a book out of her pocket. She knew that she was going to be useless for the next half an hour as Dean and Ophelia wrote names on pieces of paper and taped them to their chairs. Dean walked into the kitchen and grabbed extra candles, placing one in front of each spot that a person had died. Dean jumped onto a chair to see if he could see a pattern in who was killed as Ophelia hobbled about lighting more candles.

"Ophelia, tell me about that night," Dean finally stated as he climbed off of the chair. Even Laramie looked up from her book. It was funny to Dean to realize that Laramie was reading with her head down but really it didn't matter where she looked with her fingers reading. Laramie put her arms up on the table next to Dean. He touched her cold arm so she knew where he was. She nodded as they both waited for the story.

"Well, that night went something like this," Ophelia started.

It had been a busier night, one of the busiest nights in a long time. Usually people came for the readings or musician night but it was Voodoo Night. The dining room was packed with young and old alike. We were serving better than we ever had in our lives. The food was good, people were happy, and it was just a blast.

"Ophelia, Alan is here," Brittany shouted to me. I looked over to the door. There Alan stood in his black cloak taking in everyone. Usually I met with the show people before we started but Alan just jumped right into the show.

I watched him begin his show, pulling up a girl. He pulled out a doll that looked like no one in the room. But Alan assured everyone that it didn't need to look like her; we just had to believe that it did. As I stood by the kitchen, I was joined by all of the cooks wanting to see the first trick.

The girl had claimed that she didn't believe in what Alan was going to do to her. He walked behind her so she couldn't see him and twisted the dolls arm. At first, she said nothing. Alan gave everyone looks. The second time he did it, she screamed.

"Was that Karen Macabe?" Dean asked interrupting. Ophelia shook her head no.
Still, you could tell that people didn't believe that Alan was for real. Until he picked a little girl who was with her parents. Granted, Alan had been at this for about an hour now so he was getting irritated that people still didn't believe that he was the real thing.

Poor little girl, she just came with her parents because they couldn't find a sitter. Alan pulled her in front of everyone. Within moments, the little girl was screaming, screaming at the top of her lungs. The parents rushed forward to grab their daughter. Alan was chased out of the building by fathers and brothers alike. The little girl kept screaming and screaming until suddenly she grew blue in the face. By the time medical help came it was too late, she was already gone. It was the worst night of my life.

"What doesn't make sense," Ophelia stated, "was how he was picking people and how he did half of his tricks. Most seemed like they needed more than one person but Alan was doing everything himself."

"Unless someone in the room was involved too," Laramie stated. Dean nodded his head.

"Everything was random?" he asked. Ophelia nodded his head.

"I couldn't even point to you where around the room he did things. I only remember the girl because it was the end," Ophelia stated to Dean. He nodded his head again.

"So, we have five victims. They all sit around this room in different spots with no rhyme or reason to it. And Alan, who has ties to everyone here because he was here that night, is picking people randomly. And not to mention the fact that it happened here," Dean spoke out loud. "Are you sure that he doesn't have anything against you?" Ophelia laughed at the mere suggestion of it.

"I'm sure that this has nothing to do about me," Ophelia stated. Dean peeked over to Laramie who had a different look on her face. Something still isn't right; Laramie knows something or is hiding something…..that moment had such an uncomfortable air to it.

Ophelia quickly stands off of the table and looks to her watch on her hand.

"Look at the time, I, a lady of my age, should be in bed," Ophelia stated. Dean watched Laramie nod her head. Because that didn't give anything away that you're hiding something Dean thought.

"I'll take care of this," Laramie declared.

"I'll help," Dean said. He started to blow out candles and carry them into the kitchen. Dean and Laramie continued to put things away in the dining room as Ophelia walked up the steps to go to bed. Laramie had no problems putting up the chairs as Dean put away the candles, stacks at a time so he'd have some light.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" Laramie finally asked as she finished putting up the chairs. Dean was surprised at her question. He looked around just because he had that feeling again.

"No, sometimes I welcome it. Why do you ask?"

"You asked for the matches right away when the lights went out. You still haven't put out all of the candles yet," Laramie stated. "It was just a simple question."

"No, that question has a lot of force behind it," Dean stated as he blew out the last candle putting both of them in the dark. How did she know I didn't put them all out?

"What do you mean force Luke," Laramie joked. Dean followed her voice to stand right next to her. He was still uncomfortable about her question. Why would a normal grown man be afraid of the dark? Then again, he knew what was truly out there….

"It just has a lot of connotation behind it," Dean stated.

"Connotation? Busting out the big words aren't we?" Laramie asked. She held out her arm and found Dean's shoulder. Her hands felt icy cold through Dean's shirt. "Come on, you can stay in one of the guest rooms." She pulled Dean up the steps slowly.

"Where are your parents Laramie?" Dean asked as they turned a corner. His eyes were finally adjusting to the dark. Laramie opened a door and walked through it before answering.

"Dead, both killed in different car accidents on the same night," Laramie stated, "that was the night I lost my sight. It was pretty traumatizing for a ten year old." Dean stopped as Laramie turned on the lights to the room.

"God, Laramie, I'm sorry," Dean stated. That was horrible question. He should have figured.

"What about you? Hunting is something that normal people don't usually get into because they want to hunt," Laramie stated as she found some blankets in the closet. She sat down on the bed as Dean didn't answer. He stood staring off in memories when she interrupted. "You're silence is deafening."

"Sorry," Dean stated. "My mother was killed in my brother's nursery by something." He paused for a beat. "My father has made it into a personal vendetta to hunt this thing down. I guess I have too. Sam though, god, he's up at college studying to be a lawyer or something. He hates hunting." Dean sat down shifting his weight to lean on the head board.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate it," Laramie stated. She crossed her legs and looked in his direction.

"You haven't met Sam," Dean stated. Laramie cocked her head her head with a smile.

"Maybe he doesn't hate hunting but he hates that he wasn't given a choice in the matter," Laramie stated. Maybe it was the job or lack of sleep but the comment didn't sit well with Dean.

"Well, maybe if my mother had a choice of being killed on Sam's ceiling I wouldn't be here right now," Dean snapped back. Laramie sat up quickly, her eyes betraying her thoughts of hurt. She pulled herself off of the bed and into the door frame.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean it like that," Laramie stated as she walked out of the room, closing the door to make her comment the last. Dean just sat, with the light on in his room thinking about what she said. Sam's innocence was something that Dean had always hated.

Sam got to play sports while Dean trained. Sam was in a school play while Dean killed off ghosts. For once in his life, Dean wished he had had choices concerning his life. He leaned back on his bed closing his eyes. But what did it matter? Duty and loyalty came before his choices. It had always been his responsibility for everything growing up. How would Laramie ever know that the choices for Sam were a given.

Choices for him were not.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Dean heard a noise from the hall. Instantly he was up with his hands solidly gripping his gun that had been in the back of his pants since he first walked into the restaurant. Realizing that the light from his room was going to give him away if he opened the door, he switched off the lights praying that who ever was out in the hall didn't notice the lights. Allowing himself a moment to get used to the dark, Dean very gently pulled open the door to the hallway.

He didn't see anything at first. The hallway was just as dark as his room as he pointed his gun into the hall. He half expected Ophelia or Laramie to be out in the hall because of the noises. He turned towards the window at the end of the hall.

And that's when he saw her.

She was wearing a simple dress with her hair up in curls. Fear was written in her eyes and her body movement. Dean lowered his gun, he had a feeling that this was the little girl from the story and that she wasn't a threat to him….yet. She shifted to him quickly; he was shocked at her speed. She tugged on Dean's shirt just like Sammy did when he was younger and needed to whisper anything. He thought for a moment before kneeling down.

"I'm not the only ghost in this house," she whispered having an airy feel to her voice. Dean turned and cocked his head at the little girl. Why did she feel the need to tell him that? "You need to get out of this hall now!" She shouted as she disappeared.

Movement came from the window in front of Dean and to his right. He pointed his gun to the right first. Laramie was standing outside of her room.

"Dean?" She asked. A shattering of glass caused Dean to whip his gun at the two men that broke through the second story window.

"What the?" Dean whispered as he stood with his gun raised. The two men pointed a flash light right in his eyes causing his to look away.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Dean heard before they scrambled for something. He heard the unclicking of a safety.

"Dean?" Laramie asked again as she stepped between him and the men. Everyone froze for a moment, the room dropping in temperature.

"It's her, get rid of her," Dean heard. He grabbed for Laramie's arm as the first round went off but missed only to feel a cold misty air rush past his hand.

"Laramie get down!" He shouted as he hit the deck himself opening fire on the two men. Laramie dove to the floor as the men scrambled out the window to avoid Dean's gun fire. Dean got off of the floor to chase after the men. He saw the fire escape and quickly moved out of the window.

"Laramie stay put!" Dean shouted holding out his hand to her as he continued to follow the men down the steps. He quickly jumped from step to step gaining on the men who were similar in size and in height. One was wearing a black cape while the other had on all black clothing. One of the men turned around to fire shots off at Dean. Shots off bounced off of the metal fire escape. He dodged most of the pinging until he felt the hot sensation graze across right arm.

"UGH!" he shouted as he dropped his gun to cover up the already bleeding wound. He peeled back his hand slightly to see how deep the cut was. It was merely just a flesh wound. For the Love of everything good Dean thought to himself as he picked up his gun. He gave one final look to the streets below to where the men took off down the road into the night making him turn back to where he left Laramie.

"This better not leave a scar," he growled to himself as he stepped through the window where Laramie was standing holding a plant ready to fire away.

"Dean?" she asked pulling the plant back.

"It's me Laramie. Have a first aid kit?" He asked as she slowly lowered her weapon. Laramie nodded and motioned Dean to follow her. As they walked down the hall together, Dean felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck. He turned to look to the window.

There, sitting there was the little girl with tears running down her face. Her words echoed in Dean's mind again.

"I'm not the only ghost in this house."

A/N: Hmmmmmm...Please Review and Let me know what you think, good or bad!