Spectrophobia

- Floor 1, part 2 -

oo0oo

Jessica Lee Moore and Thomas Daniel Miller. The two names were not particularly unusual; though for both of them to happen to appear on gravestones in a mock-cemetery wasn't a bet Dean would ever put money on. And the fact that the dates and stones themselves matched… well, the odds were astronomical.

Sam was looking at him with such hope-filled eyes, wanting his brother to be able to explain it all. But, try as he might to think of something, anything, Dean was coming up empty. Then, something clicked. He remembered Kole mentioning the name 'Tommy' as someone who had died in a fire.

"Maybe," he took a wild stab, "maybe they found out the names of people who died in fires. Maybe they just randomly picked a cause of death and found obituaries to match." He was starting to warm up to the idea. "I'm sure those three don't have the creativity to make up enough names and dates on their own…"

Sam was nodding, wanting so much for that to be the answer. Unfortunately, Kole had settled down and found her voice.

"And that's the theory you're going with here?" Kole asked, skeptically from her now-seated position a few faux-grave rows over.

As Dean turned to face her, the cuff of his jeans caught on something and he lost his balance, falling to the ground; his elbow making contact with a small headstone that barely broke the surface. Rubbing feeling back into his elbow, Dean looked down at the small, plain stone.

"Well," he muttered, "there goes that idea."

"Dean?" Sam leaned down to give his brother a hand. "You OK?" Dean tried to cover the stone, but Sam saw it anyway and gave his brother an anxious look.

Dean Michael Winchester

January 24, 1979 – March 7, 2006

"Did you guys feel that?" Kole asked as Sam pulled Dean to his feet.

"Yeah," Sam said, looking around, "the wind – "

"Fans," Dean corrected.

"Fans, whatever. They're getting stronger."

"No, not that…" then she felt it again. It was a slight vibration, a shifting of dirt beneath her. She wasn't sure if they had earthquakes in New England and had never actually experienced one herself, but she imagined that this might be what a mild tremor felt like.

The boys hadn't felt anything, but before she could explain…

"What was that?" Dean asked, scanning his surroundings.

It was definitely wood. And it was definitely a sort of cracking. Kole imagined the trees in winter, frozen branches swaying in the breeze. Sam thought of the old wooden floor from his apartment back at Stanford, creaking beneath his feet. But Dean knew better.

"OK guys," he said, taking out his sawed-off shotgun filled with cartridges of rock salt, "I think we better keep moving." He began making his way towards the opposite end of the room. He couldn't see the door but knew the exit had to be in that general direction.

Sam gave the replica of Jess's grave one last sad look and then followed Dean's lead, towards the exit and readying his weapon.

Kole stood and took a step to follow but then heard something new. She stopped moving and listened for the sound, the whispering, again. It was soft, but it was gaining volume, and she could make out 'key' and 'me'.

"This way, Sammy," Dean said as he cut through the rows of headstones in a diagonal path. The creaking was getting louder and was accompanied by cracking. And though he couldn't make out anything distinct, he had a feeling he could hear far off voices and moans.

The ground beneath her feet was moving again, but Kole didn't notice for all the concentration she was giving the whispers. They were becoming clearer, and then she understood.

"Nikki, help me. Please, help me Nikki."

She stood motionless, staring at the dirt in front of her as it continued to shift and open up, a hole growing larger and nearing her feet. Her brain was screaming to move, but her body wouldn't listen. And, from the grave, she saw one and then a second hand slowly creep through the surface. All the while, the voice got louder and more desperate.

"Finally," Dean said when he found the door that had been painted to match the walls, but it wouldn't open.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked him.

"It's locked," the 'duh' apparent in his voice. He turned around to face Sam and noticed for the first time that Kole was not behind them. He stepped around Sam to look for her and saw that she had yet to move from her position near the headstone. "Kole!" he yelled out, but she remained in a daze and paid no attention.

"Dean…" Sam started anxiously.

"I see it," he replied as he started walking back towards Kole, knowing his brother saw the undead thing climbing out of the faux-grave in front of her. "Work on getting that lock open."

Sam turned back to the door, obediently took out his lock pick set, and began his operation without question. Now was not the time to argue about the difference between orders and requests.

Dean walked carefully back to Tommy's grave, noting that it was not the only one that showed signs of life, or rather, movement. Though, it did seem to be the liveliest. The figure was making his way out of the dirt quite quickly and would soon be standing in front of Kole. Dean quickened his pace.

"Nikki, help me," his voice pleaded to her. "It's cold… I miss you…" Kole was shaking and trying to keep the tears from her eyes. She began whispering apologies to her friend, not knowing what else to do since she was no longer capable of moving.

"Please, Nikki, help me…" he said, reaching his hand out to her.

"Kole! Down!" Dean yelled when he saw the corpse move towards her. He shot the rock salt right in the center of the thing's back, but the spray went right through it. The body, that had seemed solid enough as it emerged from the earth, wavered out of existence, leaving Dean to see what the salt had actually made contact with.

Instead of dropping the way she had been taught to when one of the boys yelled 'Down', Kole remained standing face to sorrowful face with her old friend. Lucky for her, Tommy had been a bit taller than she was. And luckier still, Dean had shot him from an angle and not head on. Instead of a chest or face full of rock salt, Dean only managed to pepper her right shoulder.

"Kole!" Dean yelled as he ran over to where she was now laying face first in the dirt, the force of the shot having spun her around and knocked her to the ground. Gently taking her left arm, he helped her sit up.

"Umm… ow," she mumbled in accusation, then coughed a couple times and spit out a mouthful of dirt.

"Sorry," Dean said weakly and cringed when he saw her frayed sleeve and a couple abrasions on her right cheek, one of which was bleeding slightly. "You were supposed to drop," he said while helping her to her feet.

"I… couldn't. I don't know why, but I couldn't seem to move. Why… Dean, look out!"

Dean crouched down and spun around just in time to dodge a punch thrown by an undead version of himself. Kole grabbed for the first thing she could think of – a flask of holy water from her pocket. She flipped it open and tried to spray the not-Dean with it, only to have the water go through him and splash the gravestone behind him.

"Wait a minute," Dean said as he stood up and passed an unbelieving hand through the midsection of his double, "it's not real." But, as he looked into the sneering face in front of him, not-Dean swung his fist again and connected with real-Dean's chin. Caught off guard, real-Dean went down.

Then, not-Dean turned to Kole and swung at her. She was able to bring her own arm up in time to try and block, but the fist went through her block and connected with her cheek. Stunned, she landed on the ground next to Dean.

"Well," he said as her turned to face her, "that doesn't seem fair."

"Run?" she asked.

"Run," he agreed. They both got to their feet and ran towards Sam and the door to the next floor. Not-Dean took off after them and was joined by others as they climbed from their graves. Dean and Kole had to dodge gravestones and emerging hands as they ran.

They were nearing the edge of the cemetery and could see Sam holding the door open for them, beckoning them forward, when Dean tripped over a small, tilted gravestone. He rolled and tried to regain his footing, only to be stopped by a large rectangular stone at his back. Before he could make another move, his double caught up with him and blocked his path. Not-Dean looked down at him with an evil grin and pulled his foot back to give real-Dean a sharp kick to the belly. Real-Dean curled up instinctively and shut his eyes tight, bracing himself for the pain. But it never came.

"Dean!" he heard Sam yell. He opened his eyes slowly and found that his double was no longer in front of him. He looked around and stood up cautiously.

"Kole, look out!" Sam yelled again. Dean whipped his head around and saw that Kole, who had stopped running momentarily when Dean tripped, was now surrounded by six undead. One of them was approaching her with fists clenched. She stood her ground and, just before a fist could make contact with her face, she closed her eyes.

"What the…" Dean started as he watched the fist move seemingly through Kole's head. Once the large undead man completed his momentum, he wavered away the way Kole's friend had. But, his thoughts were interrupted when more of the undead started towards him; one came close enough to ram into him and send him over the large rectangular gravestone. He landed on his back with a painful thud.

"Dean," Kole called out, "close your eyes."

"You've got to be kidding me," he grumbled, but then looked up to see the linebacker-shaped undead man put his hand on the gravestone, using it for leverage as he jumped over it. Dean's eyes snapped shut just as the man was about to land on him. Nothing.

"There's a tree to your left, Kole," he heard Sam call out and realized that Kole was moving for the door with her eyes closed. "Move a little more to your right. The branches… OK, you're past them."

Dean stood up and slowly began making his way towards Sam. He stretched out his arms low in front of him, reaching out to make sure he didn't run into anything. He moved his feet low to the ground and took small steps to try and avoid tripping. Still, he managed to run into something.

"Uh… Marco?" he called out to his brother.

"You're at the wall, Dean," Sam told him, referring to the four foot stone wall that surrounded the edge of the cemetery. "Move about six feet to your left. Kole, you need to go about five feet to your right."

Both Dean and Kole, eyes still closed, began moving towards each other with one hand on the wall. When they reached the opening, Dean chanced a look behind him. The undead stood close enough to reach out and touch them, but stayed where they were. Once Kole was through the opening, Dean walked through backwards, still watching the undead. As he passed the threshold, they all wavered out of sight.

"They're gone," he said quietly, still trying to figure out what they were in the first place.

"Come on," Sam said, "we've got four more floors to go." He held the door open for Kole to walk through. Dean started through the doorway then stopped and looked at Sam.

"Dude, when someone says 'Marco', the right answer is 'Polo'," he said with a grin.

Sam rolled his eyes and followed him through the door and up the stairway to the second floor.

Spectrophobia: the fear of specters or ghosts