A/N: Hello my dear readers and welcome back for another short story. We have Sam in college and Dean hunting alone and has a hunt go sideways. Can Sam find him and devise a way to save him? I want to thank VegasGranny for her support and help with the story. She has helped make it better with her suggestions and insight. I hope you enjoy the story. I do like reviews/comments. Enjoy…NC
Disclaimer: I do not own anything about SPN. This is my own creation, and any errors are my own.
Chapter 1
The traffic was light as the black, 1967 Impala made its way down the lonely highway. The one person in the car was slouched in the driver's seat listening to the music flowing from the speakers. He occasionally glanced to the empty seat beside him as his mind wandered to the missing passenger.
Dean Winchester had been on his on for several years now, since his younger brother left for college and his father decided to go out on his own too. It took him awhile to find his groove and continue in the family business alone. He had lost his mother nearly twenty years ago when he was almost five. Her death was suspicious in his father's eyes, and he started to investigate. What he found was mind blowing and sent him into the world of the supernatural wanting revenge for the love of his life, his wife, Mary's death.
John Winchester raised his sons as warriors, to follow in his footsteps and become hunters of the supernatural. They protected those humans who couldn't protect themselves. They moved from one town to the next, following the leads, and solving the cases. The eldest son was a natural when it came to hunting and picked it up quickly. The youngest didn't learn about the supernatural until he was older and even then, wasn't as good at it as his brother. He was a natural in doing the research for the hunts and was happy to do that part.
The family broke apart when the youngest announced he had won a scholarship to Stanford and wanted to go to college. His world didn't revolve around the next hunt, and he wanted more out of life. John Winchester was furious with him and accused him of abandoning his family. He told him if he left, to never come back and that is what he did. He left without a goodbye or backward glance or regret.
Dean tried not to think about the past and what had happened between him and his brother, Sam. There were no warm goodbyes and pats on the back or well wishes. He had not said a word as Sam walked out of the motel room and into the night. He knew that was his first mistake. No matter what their father had said, he should have stood by Sam, and now he regrated his actions, or rather non-actions of not letting his brother know he was proud of him.
When Dean saw the road signs ahead, he changed lanes so he could exit and head for the town of Paradise, California, where there could be a possible case. He had found articles online about missing high school seniors that had decided to check out a supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of town. The local cops had searched the place but found no signs of them but did find evidence that he had been there. It was thought they might have run away together.
What piqued his interest was friends of the missing high school seniors said they were going there to do a séance and try communicating with the dead. It was a week before Halloween and things like this seemed to be a common occurrence. Dumb kids doing dumb things like that and messing with things that were dangerous and they didn't understand.
The exit loomed ahead of Dean, and he took it and followed the signs toward the town. He had other things on his mind as he stopped at a red light and let his gaze roam around the area. He was thinking of Sam and thought maybe when this hunt was over, he would go check on him since Palo Alto was less than four hours away. He only wanted to catch a glimpse of him, just to see and ease his mind that Sammy was okay.
The light turned green, and Dean eased through the intersection and continued into the town limits. He needed to get directions to this haunted house and check it out for himself. He knew what to look for where local cops had no clue. The best place to gather evidence was the local diner and listen to the gossip being shared. He found a local diner and pulled into the parking lot that was partly full. He found a place to park and got out to go inside.
After picking out a place to sit that put him near several older patrons, hoping to overhear them talking about the missing teenagers. He picked up a town paper on a table nearby and sat down in a booth. After giving the menu at the table a quick look, he waited for the waitress to come over to take his order and get him a drink. Once she hurried off, Dean began to scan the headlines, looking for anything on the missing teens.
There were a couple of articles on the first couple of pages, but they didn't tell him anything that he didn't already know. He caught a few words from the older customers about the cops still didn't have any leads yet. Dean leaned closer their way to hear better but was distracted by the waitress bringing his drink.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," Dean spoke to the older customers. "I'm a cop on vacation but read about the missing teenagers in the paper. Does anyone have any clues or ideas what happened to them?"
The one who seemed the leader of the group turned to look at Dean for a moment before speaking, "Some are wondering if they ran away, but we don't think that's the case. All of them were good kids that never got into trouble and did good in school. They had no reason to run away."
"I think someone took them, maybe human trafficking," another older man offered.
"Really Stan, you know that's the least likely thing that could have happened," a third told him. "Something happened to them in that house. You know the rumors that have been started over the years. No one goes there at night, it's too scary."
"Exactly where is this haunted house located?" Dean asked.
"You head out of town on Mercury Street and turn left onto Copperhead Road. It's located about ten miles further on the right. There's a long driveway that leads to the house. It's been empty for years. No one wanted to take on the expense of remodeling it and being so far from town they never got anyone dumb enough to buy it."
"Thanks for the information. Maybe I'll go check it out."
"I'd be careful doing that."
"I plan on it." Dean sat back as the waitress brought his food out and sat it in front of him. "Thanks."
"Anything else I can get you?" she asked.
"No, I'm good Sandy." Dean gave her a lopsided smile and quick wink making her blush slightly and hurry away.
He sprinkled salt over the fries and on the tomato on his burger before taking a bite and chewing slowly. The burger was hot and juicy and seasoned to his taste. He poured a blob of ketchup on his plate and dipped a fry in it before eating it. Once Dean finished his meal and got a drink to-go, he headed back to the Impala to follow the directions given to him by the older customers to the supposed haunted house.
Dean nearly missed the driveway and had to backup before he could drive down it. It was overgrown with weeds, and they slapped at the bottom of the Impala, but he noticed most had been beat down by the number of cars that had traveled it before him. The driveway was cocooned with overhanging branches from the trees that grew along it. It was like driving through a tunnel until it opened onto a large clearing with a two-story house sitting in the middle of the site.
The house was wooden and need of repair. Windows were boarded up, vines were climbing up the sides trying to claim the structure, the porch steps were barely standing, and shutters hung by one hinge or just lay on the ground below it. It was the perfect description of a haunted house, and he could see the lure for teenagers this time of year with Halloween coming up.
Dean pulled the Impala around an overgrown patch of bushes to hide it and parked, cutting the engine before getting out and leaned against the side of the Impala as he surveyed the house. He was close enough to see the crime scene tape that blocked the front door, but that wouldn't deter him from going inside. He went to the trunk and got a pump action shotgun loaded with rock salt bullets. After checking that it was fully loaded, he chambered a round and grabbed a flashlight and stowed several knifes in his pockets before closing the trunk and walking slowly toward the house.
He had to bypass the steps to get onto the porch and moved to the door finding it locked. After picking the locks, Dean pushed the door all the way open and stood in the doorway to look inside before slowly stepping over the threshold. He stood in the foyer and let all his senses go on hyper alert, trying to sense any danger. All he heard was the creaking and settling of the house and some random rodent scurrying around in another room.
With the shotgun ready for action, Dean slowly made his way deeper into the house searching for the room that the supposed séance took place. He moved through the rooms on the first floor and found nothing of interest and went back to the staircase leading upstairs. Staying to the side of the steps, he crept up them to the second floor and found more crime scene tape across a door midway down the landing. He headed to it thinking it was a bedroom and found it was the master bedroom.
After removing the tape, he stepped into the room and looked around. The place was bare except for a lone chair and several rotten cardboard boxes, but he could tell where the dust had been disturbed on the floor and saw candle wax positioned at four separate places. He could still smell the herbs and spices that had been burned in the room and slowly did a three sixty turn to check it out.
The room was covered in dust and dirt, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling and the empty curtain rods hanging on the windows. There was a broken chair in one corner but not any other furnishings. The closet doors were barely hanging on its hinges, but Dean sensed something not right inside the closet. The afternoon sun was shining dimly through the dirt encrusted windows, not really giving enough light for him to see. He raised his flashlight and clicked it on, letting the beam fall into the closet.
It was dark inside the space, but there was something else there, something even darker than the darkness surrounding it. The beam of light seemed to be absorbed by this darkness, like it was devouring it. Cautiously, Dean walked closer to the closet and reached to pulled one side of the doors out of the way. To anyone else, it would seem that the closet was empty, but Dean didn't think that was the case. He gripped the gun tightly and when his foot moved into the shadow of the darkness, suddenly everything went black, and Dean lost all sense of time and space as he was sucked into the abyss.
The room was quiet except for the slow spinning of a flashlight just outside the closet doorway. As it comes to a stop, the silence engulfs the room and the light shines toward the darkness.
