Disclaimers: Do I own them? Psh, only in my dreams.
A/N: Like always, reviews are appreciated.
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Chapter Two
"What did you say to the man to get him that angry?" Dean asked once they were back inside the room.
"We were talking about The Sapphire Room and he just got real serious and said don't go there." Sam shrugged as he reached for his laptop.
"Why?" Dean asked as he slid back onto his bed.
Sam stopped and contemplated what James had told him. Bad things happen there. Sam wondered what the old guy had been talking about. Bad things happening do usually result in hauntings but Sam couldn't shake the feeling that there was something the old man wasn't telling him. The look of fear that James had attempted to hide hadn't gone unnoticed by Sam. But there was something else there. Something Sam could only describe as a look of genuine sadness.
"Sam?" Sam realized his pause had lasted a little too long.
"Huh?" he asked.
"Why'd he say not to go to The Sapphire Room?" Dean inquired with a little more force behind his words.
"I dunno, Dean." Sam sighed, "He didn't say. I'm gonna do some research and find out what really happened there."
"Good idea, geek boy." Dean leaned back against his pillow, "First thing in the morning."
Sam shook his head and opened the laptop, "No, I wanna get it started now."
"Sammy, it's late." Dean pointed out, "The best thing to do is rest and start fresh in the morning."
"Rest?" Sam scoffed. "This coming from the guy who'll sleep for three hours and then go out and fight a poltergeist."
"Well," Dean shrugged, "that's 'cause I'm talented. You on the other hand-" Dean stopped, leaving the insult opened ended.
Sam shut the laptop. He knew he could work off of three hours of sleep but decided to attempt to sleep anyway, if only to appease Dean. He'd research in the morning.
"Besides," Dean continued, "you could really use some beauty sleep. You're starting to look like a bad imitation of Shaggy from Scooby Doo."
"Oh yeah and you look so much better?" Sam shot back.
"I always look good, which is why I don't need as much sleep as you." Dean grinned before switching off the light and sinking back into the bed.
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Dean woke the next morning to find Sam already up, dressed and staring intently at the computer screen.
"How long have you been up?" Dean yawned.
Sam glanced at his watch. It was 8 which meant he'd been awake for five hours. He knew Dean wouldn't be too pleased about that so instead of setting himself up for a lecture, he lied. "Only an hour." He shrugged.
Dean yawned again as he swung his legs out of the bed. "Find anything?" He asked as Sam continued to click the keys of his computer. Sam held up his index finger, signaling for Dean to wait. After a few more seconds of clicking Sam peeled his eyes away from the computer and looked at his brother.
"You were right about stories of hauntings there." Sam turned the computer in Dean's direction. On the screen was the homepage of a website dedicated entirely to stories regarding ghostly encounters that people claimed to have had at The Sapphire Room. "My favorite though," Sam smiled as he spun the computer back around to face him, "is the story of a woman who told her husband that after visiting The Sapphire Room she was possessed by the spirit of a woman who died there. When the spirit finally left her later that night, she found herself in bed with a strange man," Sam turned and raised both of his hands in front of him for emphasis, "naked."
Dean laughed, "That's a new way to explain cheating."
"I know." Sam nodded still grinning.
"Most of the stuff on this site is either second hand accounts or just stories past down through the generation but after some cross referencing between this site and a few others I did manage to find records of who owned it and what actually happened there."
Dean clapped his hands, "The King of Research comes through again."
Sam rolled his eyes, "You wanna know what happened or not."
Dean rose from the bed and joined Sam at the table. "Hit me."
Sam bit back the desire to launch a sarcastic reply at Dean's last remark. Something to the effect of how he'd be glad hit Dean but decided against it. Relaying this information was far more important at the moment. He'd save the sarcasm for later.
"The Sapphire Room was opened in 1942 by Bernard Fontaine. Fontaine was originally from Harlem and had been actively involved in the Harlem Renaissance. After he left Harlem he came to Philly and opened The Sapphire Room. In 1947, a mysterious fire ripped through the building. There were no survivors. The strange part though, no bodies were found."
"What happened to Fontaine?" Dean asked.
"No one ever heard from him after the fire. Most people assumed he either died in the fire or was the one who set it for the insurance money but got spooked and skipped town." Sam explained, his eyes scanning the computer screen.
"Why would they think he's torch his own club?"
"Fontaine liked to gamble. No one knew how serious it was but it was always a theory that he got in too deep."
"What happened to the club after the fire?"
"In 1948, the club was purchased by Roberto "Lucky" Montgomery. He renovated it and reopened it under the same name. A month later he was found dead in his office, a single bullet wound to the head. There were no clues and no arrests were ever made. The club stayed open for another five years under different management but people kept complaining about strange things happening. Out of fear, the club was shut down and sold. The new owner encountered the same problems and ended up selling it to the state. It was boarded up and has been like that ever since."
Dean cracked a grin, "All this, and you've only been awake for an hour?" Sam heard the skepticism in Dean's voice. He shrugged and cracked a sideways smile.
Dean returned the smile. "Well, looks like we've got some snooping around to do. I'm gonna go take a shower and we can head over and take a look at this Sapphire Room."
"Yeah," Sam pretended to sniff the air, "you do that."
"What?" Dean said as he stood up, "Like you smell like a bed of roses first thing in the morning."
"Actually it's lilacs." Sam joked.
"See that right there," Dean waved a finger at Sam, "explains why you like chick flick moments. You're a chick." Dean laughed.
Sam rolled his eyes, "Go take your shower." He ordered.
"Okay, okay," Dean lifted his hands up in mock surrender, "But seriously, answer one question for me," he leaned towards Sam, "where do you hide your uterus?" Sam swung his fist at Dean jokingly but Dean sidestepped the swing and backpedaled towards the bathroom, "It was just a question." He laughed as he closed the bathroom door behind him leaving Sam standing by the table shaking his head, a smile creeping onto his lips.
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After Dean got out of the shower and was met with a pillow to the face from Sam for his earlier comment, the two headed over to The Sapphire Room. It was only a 15 minute drive from the motel. Dean, however, managed to make it there in 7. Sam had expected to see the place surrounded with construction workers, machinery poised, debating on how the demolition would be done. Or at the very least someone posted outside the club to prevent activists or the curious tourist from entering but instead, he found the club darkened and boarded up. The building was tucked between a corner store and an empty lot that judging from the overgrown grass, broken glass, and discarded waste, hadn't been maintained in a long while.
Dean pulled the Impala over and stared at the once thriving club. "So this is it." He said. "Is it just me or did you expect something more-" Dean paused, unable to think of how to fill in the blank.
"Preserved?" Sam suggested.
Dean nodded slowly as he studied the club. The front had two pieces of plywood blocking the front entrance which had been covered with graffiti. The two large upstairs windows had been broken and were both boarded up from the inside. Whoever had done the boarding up hadn't even bothered to remove the broken glass. It was still hanging slightly out of the window, threatening to fall at any given moment.
"Yeah." He said finally with a shrugged, "Oh well, let's go."
He exited the vehicle and headed towards the building. "Dean?" Sam called after him. Dean turned back and looked at his brother, "Shotgun?" he mouthed. Dean thought for a second before nodding at Sam. Better safe than sorry. Sam looked around, checking to make sure the coast was clear before reaching into the trunk, grabbing one of the shotguns and concealing it under his jacket.
The main entrance to The Sapphire Room was facing the street and Dean knew that breaking in that way would probably attract too much attention. He glanced into the alley next to the empty lot and figured it made more sense then trying from the side near the store because the store attracted more attention than the empty lot. He gestured at Sam to follow him.
"Shouldn't we be doing this at night?" Sam whispered as he followed behind Dean.
"This is a preliminary investigation," Dean said, "We find out what we're dealing with now, come back and kill it tonight."
They crept around the back of the building. The service entrance was still there but a large dumpster had been rolled in front of it, most likely to keep people out.
Dean sized the dumpster up. "You eat you're Wheaties this morning?" He cracked as he leaned his shoulder against the dumpster. Sam mimicked his actions.
"You may need you're Wheaties," Sam quipped, "But I've got brute strength."
Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, whatever Boy Wonder. On my count," he ordered, "1…2…3." Both Sam and Dean leaned into the dumpster with all their strength and after a few hard pushes, managed to move the dumpster away from the door.
Once the door was free of the dumpster, Dean instinctively reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. The door didn't budge. He could hear Sam laughing behind him. "What?" he shrugged, "It was worth a try."
"Ya'll tryin' to get into The Sapphire Room?"
Both Dean and Sam spun around and faced the alley they'd taken to get behind the club. Standing in the alley were two boys who looked to be in their late teens. They were both dressed in baggy pants and oversized jackets. The one who had spoken had his hair covered with a white do-rag while the other wore a fitted Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap.
"No," Sam stepped forward, "We were uh-" Sam shot Dean a look hoping for his brother to take the lead.
"Chill," the other boy said, "We ain't gonna rat you out."
"Why you tryin' to go in there anyway?" the first boy asked, "You know it's haunted, right?"
"Yeah," Dean said finally with a grin, "We're visiting from out of town and wanted to see what all the hype was about."
"I don't think ya'll should go in there. Weird things happen inside that place." The first boy said again, "I mean, that's what I heard."
The other boy laughed, "Chris, you a punk. Here," he stepped forward and knelt down in front of the service door, "I got that." He pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket and began working on the lock. Dean knew he could pick the lock himself but he was still trying to play the role of curious tourist so he let the kid do his job.
"What you mean I'm a punk." Chris asked, "People go in that place and don't come out Dre."
"What are you talkin' about?" Dre asked, his hands still working on the lock. Dean took a step back and stood next to Sam, watching the interplay between the two teens with amusement.
"You remember Jameer's cousins, baby's mother's best friend, Shanice?" Dre nodded, "She went in there one night on a dare and nobody ever heard from her again."
Dre shot Chris a look.
"Shanice moved to Florida, you fool."
Chris paused, "W-well," Chris stuttered and then paused again, "That's what you think." He finally spit out the remark attempting to resemble a logical argument but fell flat.
Chris turned to look at Dean and Sam who were both stifling laughs. "All I'm sayin' is weird things happen there. Like sometimes, late at night, I be hear music comin' from inside."
Sam's interest was peaked, "What kind of music?" he asked.
"Like Louis Armstrong type music." Chris said.
"Blues?" Dean asked. Chris nodded enthusiastically at having someone show interest in his story.
"I told you before," Dre said as he rose to his feet, "You just be hearin' shit."
"You never heard the music?" Dean asked.
Dre shook his head, "Nah, I'm never around when he claims to hear it."
"If you think I'm so full of shit then how come you never went in there?" Chris demanded.
""Cause on the slim chance that you are right, I ain't tryin' to fuck with no ghosts." Dre laughed. He twisted the doorknob that he had just been working on and gave it a push. The door creaked open revealing a dark hallway with a few streaks of sunlight leaking through. Dre took a step back and stared into the building, "There you go."
Sam was glad he had thought to bring a flashlight with him. He pulled it out of his back pocket and approached the door. He clicked the flashlight on and shined it into the building. The hallway ran parallel to the outside wall and Sam figured that there would be a doorway at the end that let to the main ballroom. Dean was right behind him. They glanced back at the Chris and Dre who had taken a few more steps back.
"G'luck." Chris called, "Hope you make it out." Dre gave him a playful punched to the shoulder. Then they both ran out of the alley.
"Punks." Dean joked as he and Dean began down the alley. There was enough light so that the flashlight wasn't necessary but Sam kept it on just in case. The hallway opened up slightly revealing three doors. Two were directly in front of them, the third was on the left.
"Pick a door, any door." Sam muttered as he shone the light over all three. As if on cue, the door to the left slowly creaked open. Sam peaked through and saw that the door led to the main ballroom. He glanced back at Dean who was attempting to peak past him into the room, "You really think we should go into the room that the building chose for us."
"Seems welcoming enough." Dean replied sarcastically as he pushed past his brother and entered the ballroom. The room was streaming with sunlight which for some odd reason, surprised Dean. The place actually did seem welcoming and that in a way was more scary that if it had been dark, dank and looming. Against the left wall was a small stage, raised about two feet off the ground. The room was littered with tables and chairs, some overturned, others positioned at odd angles. Dean took a step into the room and immediately ducked behind the bar which was resting against the right wall.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked as he entered the room and looked around.
Dean popped his head from under the bar, realizing that the bar had long since been stripped of alcoholic beverages. "Huh?" he asked, "Oh," he stood up empty handed, "I was just checking."
Sam pulled the shotgun out of his jacket and began to push through the tables. Dean retreated from the bar and pulled out his EMF meter and began to sweep the surrounding area. After five minutes of nothing Dean had become bored with the ballroom.
"Here." He said, tossing the meter to Sam. "I'm gonna go check one of the other rooms."
"Okay." Sam replied, "But Dean," Dean stopped and looked at him, "Be careful."
"Dude, I know." Dean replied before turning and heading back into the hallway. He swung open the first door and was greeted by the clattering of pots. He jumped back slightly as a pan came rolling out into the hallway. He picked up the pan and tossed it back into a kitchen. A kitchen was rarely a hotspot for spiritual energy so Dean decided to bypass it and check the second door. Considering that the second owner Montgomery had been killed in his office he figured that was the best place to check for energies. He pushed open the second and looked in cautiously. Inside was a desk, a filing cabinet and various other office related items.
Bingo, Dean thought as he stepped into the office. The room was well light so Dean had no problem making his way over to the filing cabinet. The cabinet produced a shrill squealing sound as Dean pulled it open. He grimaced at the sound.
He quickly began to root through the files. Most of the useful files had been removed prior to the closing of the club but Dean still found a few records that had been left behind. He began to pull the files out when a loud crash behind him caught his attention. He whirled around and saw that the door he'd entered from had been slammed shut. Wind, he thought hopefully but he had no such luck. Just as he had gotten all of the files out of the cabinet he heard a booming voice coming from the direction of the closed door.
"I'm sorry son," it said, "but you don't appear to be on the list." And with that Dean felt himself behind hurled backwards into the desk.
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Sam swept the ballroom but still wasn't getting a reading. He began to think that he was right all along. The stories about hauntings at The Sapphire Room were just urban legends. Just as he was prepared to turn off the meter and go find Dean he heard a low whirling coming from homemade meter. He looked down and saw the red lights shining back at him. When he looked up again he saw the transparent image of a woman looking back at him. The woman had brown hair pinned tightly around her head with a small barrette holding it all together. She had strings of pearls highlighting her collar bone and her red dress hung loosely over her thin form. Around her shoulders was a white fur wrap. Sam's immediate reaction was to take a step back and point the shotgun at the woman. The woman didn't appear to be threatening but it was an instinctual act to back away from anything transparent that appear out of thin air.
The woman didn't acknowledge Sam's existence. She took a step towards Sam and before he had a chance to react she walked right through him. Sam spun around and watched as the woman continued to walk and then within the blink of an eye, she was gone. Sam stared at the place where the woman had been for a second. Vengeful, angry ghosts he could handle but pretty, smiling ghost who paid him no attention was a new experience.
His mind was pulled out of its thoughts by a loud bang. "Dean!" he called. When he received no response he started towards the hallway where the noise had come from. "Dean!" he called again. No response. Sam began to panic. He raced towards the first door and encountered the same clattering of pots that had attacked Dean earlier. He kicked the pots back into the kitchen and turned to the second door. He tried the handle but it wouldn't budge. He threw his shoulder into the door while calling his brothers name. He heard a loud crash from behind the door.
"GET OUT OF MY CLUB!" A voice ordered from inside the room.
Sam summoned all his strength and with one last shove, the wooden doorframe broke and the door gave way. He rushed into the room and saw his brother struggling to get to his feet. Aside from Dean, the room appeared to be empty. Dean's only injury was a thin line of blood dripping from the corner of his eyebrow. He wiped the blood away and looked at Sam who had rushed to his side and was trying to help him out of the room.
"I'm fine," Dean said, pushing Sam away, "Just got some face time with the desk.
"What was it?" Sam asked.
"It was just a voice." Dean said glancing around the room suspiciously.
"A voice." Sam paused, "A voice threw you into a desk."
"No Sammy," Dean replied his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I was so scared that I threw myself into the desk." He glared at Sam for a minute.
Sam suddenly remembered the girl in the ballroom. "I saw a-" He paused and gestured towards the ballroom.
Dean raised his eyebrow, "You saw a what?"
"A girl."
"A girl?" Dean questioned, "That figures. I get tossed around by an angry ghost and you get a girl. So, you still believe that this is all just some urban legend?"
Sam glanced around the room before cautiously, "Guess not."
"Good. Then tonight we come back," Dean directed his comment to the apparent empty room, "And I'm gonna kick your transparent ass!"
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TBC…