Harvelle Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Chapter 14: Family Remains
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Yeah?" Dean's voice answered.
"You boys interested in another case?" I asked.
"Keep talking, Sweetheart." Dean grinned on the other end.
"Stratton Nebraska, it's a farm town. A man name Bill Gibson was killed to death with an ax in a locked room inside a locked house. Police reported stated no signs of forced entry. And only the victim's fingerprints were on the ax. So either a Lizzie Borden wannabe is taking the next verse to a nursery rhyme, or I got us a ghost." I reported.
"Why not give it to Jo?" Dean asked.
"Because she's in Oregon dealing with a Wraith," I answered. "And I contacted Bobby, and he recommended to you guys. So are you boys interested or not? Because the next family who's gonna live in the house moves next week."
"Uh, Sky, where are you?" Dean again asked.
"Stratton, Nebraska," I replied. "And I'm on a clock. So are ya in or not?"
". . . See you tomorrow," Dean confirmed.
I gave him the address to where to meet before hanging up. I sighed, staring at the cheap motel room a several of miles away from the house. Luckily it was the weekend, and I sincerely needed a break from reality. Last month was crazy with a project gone wrong. A professor accused me of plagiarizing a photograph I took, and now I am being investigated. I told the professor and the Dean of the art department I did no such thing. All my photographs are genuine, and they all have a signature piece in everyone, with my initials in the back. But somehow, the professor is saying another student had turned in a picture a day before me, and he too is being investigated since the photo is well known on the internet. Apparently, the cyber-plagiarism scanner is real.
So instead of spending a week doing nothing in my dorm. I am taking the weekend on a case to clear my head. I swear I didn't plagiarize anything off of someone. I gave the Dean my Deviant Art Account to assure him any online documents are mine, just to be sure. With nothing else said, I packed my things and waited here in the country.
Life sucks.
.o0o.
Out in the old country fields outside a house as the sky was partly cloudy with light winds. I lean against the hood of my car, fiddling with my phone, waiting for Thing 1 and Thing 2. Let alone searching any message from the school about the situation. Sighing, I looked at my watch, seeing it was almost noon. I have been here for two hours in a dead zone internet.
Not a moment too soon did the Impala drove up to parking next to me. I smiled, putting my phone away. Sam and Dean came out, walking over.
"Well, long time no see," I said.
Dean came over hugging me, "Never thought I see your ugly face."
"Dick," I muttered.
"Wench," Dean countered.
I laughed, punching him in the arm, then looked at Sam. He stood there out of place, not sure what to do. It must be because I'm a bit angry at him and what Dean told me a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, Sam has been working with Ruby and has been using his psychic powers against demons. Although he's helping people, vanquishing demons out of the vessels which most of them survive . . . It's a fact he let Ruby in to help him that bothers me. Ruby is a demon, a witch-demon who lied to the Winchesters and got Dean into Hell. And his stupidity with collaborating with her bruises my ego.
I mean, I helped Sam in the beginning when all else failed with the crossroad demons. I was there when he picked up the phone. There to comfort him as he mourned. There to supervise his drinking. And he had chosen a demon over me.
"Hey, Asshole," I greeted.
"Hey Skylar," Sam mumbled.
"Are ya gonna come here and give me a hug or stand there like an idiot?" I asked.
Sam chuckled slightly, walking over, and hugged me. The hug was short, but we could manage for now. Once the whole friendship reunion is over, we headed up to the house, preparing to investigate the building. Dean took out his pocket knife, fiddling with the lock until he got it. We enter the building finding it empty and bare. The only thing you see is four months-worth of dust.
Inside we walked into the living room, greeted by floral wallpaper. Yikes, I don't know what is terrifying, the history of the house or the wallpaper? Let alone the squeaky floors of each step you take. And with two men weighing over 175 pounds, it's loud if not noticeable.
"Boy, three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide," Dean noted. "This place is gonna sell like hotcakes."
"Well, the new owners got a good deal," I said. "The whole homicide discounts."
"Huh," Dean replied.
We walked into the kitchen, greeted by yellow. The walls were painted yellow, the flooring uneven with linoleum tile, and white cabinets from the 70's with cheap laminate. Yikes, Gibson evidently doesn't know how to maintain a house. We spread out, looking through the cabinets to see if anything was left behind. Dean walked over to the sink area, searching for anything till noticing something off with the wall. There was a rectangle indent that was plaster over.
"Hey, check this out," Dean said, knocking on the wall making a solid sound, except the small rectangle area sound was hollow.
"Huh," Sam said, touching it. "It's probably a dumbwaiter. All these old houses had them."
"Know-it-all," Dean muttered.
"What?" Sam said.
"What?" Dean repeated.
"You said . . ." Sam stopped.
Dean looked at him, "What?"
"Never mind," Sam grumbled.
I chuckled, shaking my head from these boys' antics. We went back to investigating, finding nothing on the first floor. So, we headed to the second floor. Sam pulled out his EMF, searching for any source of paranormal activity. We enter the master room, finding it pristine. Strange for how quick this house got on the market and refurbished after the victim's deaths.
"Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, this is a bunch of bubkes," Dean announced.
"Needle's all over the place," Sam said, as the EMF went off.
"Yeah – - power lines." Dean pointed out the window where power lines were.
"Well, if there's no ghost here, the owners will have the feeling of it if they have electromagnetic hypersensitivity," I said.
I went to the closet and opened the door. There appeared to be nothing until looking down, greeted by two beady eyes. I gasped, jumping back from the spur of the moment scare. Sitting on the floor was a vintage doll's head with its hair cut near bald, that you could see the hair plugs. The boys came over, giving a disturbing look.
"Ugh," Sam said.
"Well, that's super-disturbing," Dean said.
"Think it got left behind?" Sam asked.
"Or one mean move-in a prank," I suggested.
"That, or Bill Gibson likes to play with doll heads," Dean said.
Sam and I chuckled at the creepy thought. Thus, closing the door, we were about to leave the room. That is until we heard the sound of vehicles approaching. Going up to the window, we saw an SUV and a mover's truck coming in from the drive wave.
"Uh-oh," Sam said.
"Skylar, I thought you said the new owners wouldn't be here for another week," Dean asked.
"Apparently, they came early." I replied.
Quickly we came out to make sure the new house owner doesn't enter the building. It's cruel, but it's better than them being murdered in a house by a vengeful spirit. As we came out, there was a family of five outside awing at the new house. I grabbed my ID just in case they asked for credentials. From my research, the house now belongs to Brian and Susan Carter, who have two children.
"Can I help you?" Brian Carter asked.
"Hi. Are you the new owner?" Dean asked.
"Yeah. You guys are . . . ?"
We pulled out our IDs, as Dean introduced us, "This is Mr. Stanwyk, Miss Freebush. I'm Mr. Babar. County Code enforcement."
"We had the building inspected last week." Mr. Carter said, confused. "Is there a problem?"
"The second floor has popcorn ceilings that were tested, which the tox-report came in yesterday indicating asbestos," I answered. Which the boys stared at me with such knowledge. What can I say; I watch the HGTV channel when nothing is in the top five.
"Yeah, I'd say we got a problem." Sam agreed.
"Asbestos?" Susan asked. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning until this house is up to code, it's uninhabitable," Sam answered.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Brian said. "You're saying we can't stay here?"
"It's a health hazard. You don't want to." Dean said.
"Hold up." Another man said, walking up. "We just drove 400 miles."
"There's a motel just down the road," I said. "Until this gets cleaned up, I recommend you stay there."
"All right, and if we don't?" Brian challenged.
"Well, you get a fine, you go to jail." Dean threatens casually. "Pick your poison."
Brian Carter sighed, staring at his family. One being an adolescent girl and the other a preteen boy, the two children looked exhausted from their travels. Susan shrugged, not wanting to deal with the authorities while the other man barely believed us.
"One night." He answered. "One night, and I'll take care of everything, ASAP – I promise."
"Yeah, you do that." Dean agreed.
"Another Motel?" The girl complained. "Awesome, dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one."
Wow, I thought.
I turned, facing the boys, who were surprised by what the girl said. But that is not the problem. We probably got less than fifteen hours to solve this case before the family moves in. Otherwise, local authorities would get involved. And the Winchesters are wanted criminals, if not presumed dead. Try explaining that to the cops of ghosts and demons and stuff.
.o0o.
We waited till the Carter family got in the SUV heading to a motel, leaving the truck. Once they were gone, we changed into detective clothing, and I doing my makeup, then led to the witness who found Bill Gibson's body. Mrs. Curry. She was the caretaker of the house.
She lived in a trailer home a couple of miles away from the haunted house near town. She seemed a bit welcoming though she stood behind a screen door. Sam started asking questions with Dean next to him while I stood behind the boys with a notepad taking notes.
"What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry?" Sam asked.
"I already told the local boys - - there was blood . . . everywhere." Mrs. Curry answered.
"And Mr. Gibson - - where was he?" Dean asked.
"Everywhere," Mrs. Curry answered.
"How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson's house?" Sam asked.
"Mm. About five years." Mrs. Curry answered.
"So you knew him pretty well," Dean stated.
"Oh, not really well. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him." Mrs. Curry said.
"What do ya mean?" I asked.
"His wife dies in childbirth. The daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I'd be bitter, too." Mrs. Curry answered. "I think I got some pictures." She left for a moment to get the pictures. The boys and I waited until she returned with two sets of photos. "Here." Mrs. Curry said, opening the door so Dean could have the pictures.
"Thanks," Dean said, analyzing the pictures. "Can we keep these?"
"Suit yourself." Mrs. Curry said.
"Now, why'd the daughter kill herself?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. That was before my time." Mrs. Curry answered.
"Did you ever notice anything odd in the house when you were cleaning it?" Dean asked, handing me the pictures.
"Like what?" Mrs. Curry replied.
"Like, you know, like lights going on and off, things not being where you left them." Dean listed.
"No," Mrs. Curry said, then remembered something. "Well, maybe there was one thing."
"What's that?" I asked while taking notes.
"Well, sometimes, I thought I heard a . . . rustling in the walls." Mrs. Curry answered.
"Like a rat?" Dean suggested.
"Yeah," Mrs. Curry believed.
"Must have been some big sons of guns out there, huh?" Dean joked.
"Wouldn't know. Never saw any." Mrs. Curry comeback.
"Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried?" I asked, changing the topic.
"Ah, they were both cremated." Mrs. Curry answered.
A few more questions, and we left Mrs. Curry to her cooking. Well, that helped a little.
"All right, so it probably wasn't the mom or the daughter," Sam said.
"Unless their soul is attached to something," I added. "Like the creepy doll head."
"Yeah, but if not them, whose ghost was it?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," Dean answered. "But I say we give that place a real once-over and see."
With that said, Sam got in my car while Dean drove the Impala. We headed back to a motel to continue our research. Although the drive over was quite uncomfortable with Sam. We hardly spoke as I drive, and he read over the research I found about the house. From what I discovered, the house was not built on an Indian burial ground, no traces of rivers, limestone, or any source of paranormal battery other than the power lines, and here's the thing, Mr. Gibson was arrested for domestic violence. Neighbors called it in after witnessing the man punched his daughter, Rebecca, let alone the school reporting anti-social behavior. But investigators couldn't confirm the allegation.
"Skylar, can I ask you something?" Sam asked.
"Maybe," I answered.
"Why are you here?" He asked. "Shouldn't you be studying for exams?"
I sighed, "I'm being investigated at the school."
"For what?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Apparently, the school believes I plagiarized a photo, and so did another boy," I answered.
"Did you?" He asked.
"No!" I yelled. "Why on earth would I plagiarize when my hobby, in general, is photography?
Somebody stole my work and is getting me in trouble."
Sam took a deep breath, not sure what to say. Silence engrossed the vehicle as I continued to drive. Although Sam finally spoke again, "I'm sorry I haven't communicated with you all summer. I didn't want to get you in danger."
"Yet you add Ruby to the picture." I sneered.
"Dean shouldn't have told you that," Sam muttered.
"Well, that's what friends do. They tell their friends for help. He simply needed to blow off
steam. But Sam, don't you get it. Associating with a demon is like tying the noose. Look what happened to Jake. And the demon blood, we don't know what the side effects are. The last thing anyone needs' you dead and your soul in hell." I stated.
"So you think I'm a freak," Sam accused.
I stiffened when he said that. "No, I don't."
"Yes, you do," he continued, not believing me.
"Sam, I don't." I ground out.
"Skylar," Sam started.
"Damn it, Sam, you're not the only freak in this car." I snapped. "So shut up, and focus on this damn case."
Nothing was said after that. Fortunately, we made it to the motel. Otherwise, I would have to explain what I meant. The last thing I want is the Winchesters to know that I am clairvoyant and my powers derive from Athena. So once this case is over and done, we can move on and start over again. I slammed the door, marching to my room to change out of this damn outfit.
"What's up with her?" Dean asked outside the door.
"I don't know," Sam answered.
.o0o.
When I calmed down, I took a shower washing away the cosmetics, and blow-dry my hair. I got dressed in a pair of jeans, a tank top, a black long sleeve shirt, and boots. I was about to put on my holster when there was a knock on the door. Quickly I fasten my gun into the holster and put on a jacket before answering the door. Dean and Sam stood there, waiting to begin our ghost hunt.
Nothing to say. We took just the Impala and headed off to the farmhouse. I sat in the back seat, reading more about Rebecca's suicide. From what I understand, this girl went through hell from the autopsy. Signs of fresh and old bruising, scars, and burn marks, but those are not the only thing. The mortician noted that Rebecca's pelvis was more extensive than a standard twenty-year-old female. She was petite and skinny, yet her pelvis was broader, and her breasts were slightly larger. Wait . . . Those physical signs usually mean . . .
"Crap," Dean cursed.
Looking up at the haunted house, lights were on, and the SUV in the parking lot. You got to be kidding me. I thought we told the family it was not safe. Come on, Asbestos is deadly! It can cause lung damage and extensive fibrosis. And a ghost is dangerous too.
"So, what now?" I asked.
"We could tell them the truth," Sam suggested.
Dean and I look at him as if he grew a second head.
"Really?" Dean asked.
"No, not really," Sam answered sarcastically.
Great, just great, I thought.
Sam suggested we walk around the perimeter to make sure the area was secured. Dean liked the idea, though we had to make sure none of the family members spot us. So, for the next thirty minutes, we did nothing but walk around the house searching for any clues of a paranormal spirit or anything supernatural.
"Hey, Sky," Sam whispered. "Can I ask you something?"
I sighed, "What is it?"
"What did you mean I wasn't the only freak in the car?" Sam asked.
I took a deep breath-stopping where we were. Me and my big mouth. Why do I word vomit when I'm angry? Seriously it's going to get me in trouble.
"I'm clairvoyant," I whispered.
"What?" he asked, flabbergasted.
"I'm clairvoyant. Well, the psychic said claircognizance, same difference." I muttered. "I know things before they could happen. Like Spiderman."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked.
"I tried, but you were either ignoring me or on a case," I answered.
"And it just happened, just like that?" He continued.
"Yep," I said, popping the p. "Look, it's nothing serious. And right now, I want to focus on the case before another Amityville horror repeats itself."
Sam nodded, understanding what I am going through. He had been there, trying to comprehend what these psychic powers mean and how to use them. But we are different. Mine was genetically inherited from my father, who got his ability from Athena. Sam was unknowingly got his ability as a baby from the Yellow-eyed demon. Either way, we both are dealing with the complication of how to use these gifts. Only I fear for Sam, because one false use and he may end up dead.
Suddenly there was a scream inside the house. Quickly Sam and I ran to the house, followed by Dean. Dean pounded on the door immediately. The door opens, revealing the second man who was confused. Not bothering permission, we marched into the living room. The daughter, who I think the mom called her Kate, seemed distraught as the mother tried to soothe her while the son, who name I believe was Danny, stood there confused.
"We heard screams," Dean said. "What's going on?"
"Oh, you three! Did you touch my daughter?!" Brian demanded, after seeing us.
"What? No," Dean answered.
"Who are you guys?" Brian demanded.
"Relax, please," Sam said. "You have a ghost."
"A ghost," Brian said sarcastically.
"I told you!" Kate said.
"It's the girl!" Danny said.
"Both of you relax," Brian told his children. "What are you guys playing?
Wow, what an optimistic man, I thought.
"Your family's in danger. You need to get out of the house now." Dean said.
Suddenly the lights go out, just like that. Seriously, ghost surely likes to be dramatic when haunting a damn house, don't they? The girls gasp huddling together. Meanwhile Brian looked at his family to make sure they were safe.
"What the hell," Ted grumbled.
"Nobody move!" I instructed.
Suddenly there was whimpering. A dog was whimpering and barking practically hysterically. And the dog suddenly yelped in pain.
"Buster!" Danny yelled, escaping his mother's grasp in search of his dog.
Immediately the family ran out in search of the dog, leaving the Winchesters and me in the house. Wow, they sure love their dog. We ran after the men who went outside, going around the house hearing the dog whimpered. Buster whimpered till yelp going silent. When we reached the other side of the house, there was a trail of blood on the grass, while on the truck wrote in red,
"Too Late."
"Buster!" Danny called from the balcony, followed by Susan and Kate.
"Go back inside," Brian ordered.
Susan nodded, wrapping her arms around the children leading them inside.
"We are not the bad guys, but you're in danger," Dean said.
"First thing's first," Sam said. "You got to get your family out of here."
Brian looked at the warning, and the other guy, who I assume is probably the uncle. Both quickly thought about this and nodded. Immediately we got the rest of the family out of the house, escorting them to the car. If a ghost can perform a warning in a dog's blood, there's no doubt this spirit is pissed off. And an angry ghost means a powerful one.
"Head to the motel I told you about," I told the family. "You'll be safe there."
"What are you three gonna do?" Brian asked.
"Oh, no . . . "Dean said, running to the Impala. The impala front tires were inflated, though Dean got a closer look finding all four tires slashed. "Oh, come on!"
"Check your car," I told the Carter family.
They did so while Sam went to the trunk opening the hood. I walked over and gasped. All of the weapons the Winchesters had were gone. All the guns, knives, and sharp objects that could kill have entirely vanished. All that remains were the herbal remedies and salt.
"Dude, the guns are gone," Sam told Dean. "So is the . . . Basically, everything is gone."
"Truck's no good." Ted yelled, running back to the group.
"Both tires slashed," Brian added about the SUV.
"What kind of ghost messes with a man's wheel?!" Dean exclaimed.
"What's going on?" Kate asked, scared. Suddenly she screamed. "She's there! She's there!"
"Where?" Susan asked.
"She was right there in the woods," Kate yelled.
We all looked at Kate's visual direction seeing nobody. The boys and I pulled out our flashlights to get a better look. In the end, we found nothing.
"What's a ghost doing outside?" Dean asked.
"You want to stay and find out?" Sam replied.
"Shit, everybody inside," I instructed the family.
"Are you crazy? We need to get the hell out of here!" The uncle yelled.
"In what?! This ghost is hunting us!" Dean shouted. "Everybody back inside now? Move!"
Back inside, we got the family into the living. Dean went to the fireplace, looking for any source of iron. Meanwhile, Sam and I grabbed the salt we brought and started making a large circle. Ghost and demons are unable to cross salt since it purifies evil. So, it's the only protection this family got until morning. Since the power is out and there is no cellular signal for miles out.
"Whatever's outside, it can't get in this circle," Dean explained, after making a fire and held a poker. "As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be."
"Safe from ghosts?" Brian asked unconvinced.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Dean answered, irritated.
"Okay. I'm not listening to this anymore. Come on." Brian said, walking out of the room. "I got to get my family out of here. Let's go."
"Nobody's going anywhere until we kill this thing," Dean ordered as he got up.
"Sir, please. This is what we do." Sam tried to reason. "Just . . . trust us."
"You hunt ghosts?" Danny asked.
"That's right," I answered.
"Like Scooby-doo?" Danny asked in awe.
"More like Ghostbusters meets Men in Black," I answered, smiling. "Without the suits."
Sam walked over to Kate, taking out the two pictures of Mrs. Gibson and Rebecca. "You saw her outside, right? Okay. Does she look like either one of these girls?"
Kate looked at the photos getting a better look. She then pointed at one of them. "Her. She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her."
"That's the girl in the walls," Danny confirmed after seeing the picture.
"So it's the daughter?" Sam said.
"That girl in the picture - - She-She's dead?" Susan asked.
"She killed herself inside this house," I answered.
Susan showed signs of sympathy, while the rest of the family became disturbed. Who wouldn't after finding out, not only the owner died here, but the daughter committing suicide and now is haunting the place? But why stay after this. Rebecca got her revenge, so wouldn't she have moved on . . . Unless her spirit is trapped in something.
The Winchesters and I walked away to figure this out.
"So, what - The maid got her story wrong? Rebecca wasn't cremated?" Dean asked.
"Unless her spirit just attached to something inside the house." Sam guessed.
"She hung herself in the attic, right?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, that's what the police report said," I answered.
"You want to babysit? We'll check it out." Sam offered to Dean.
Dean nodded, thinking it's the best option.
Although, the uncle, Ted, wasn't taking more of this. "Look—I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on here, but— "
"It's a spirit, man." Dean corrected.
"No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all "Deliverance" on my ass," Ted said.
"Well, nobody's leaving the house," Dean said.
"Stop me," Ted challenged, walking out of the room.
Suddenly Dean lunged forward, gripping Ted and pinned him to a wall. "Listen, man. I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole."
He let go of Ted, who shoved his shoulder and went back into the circle with the rest of the family. Sam and I went over to Dean. That was not cool.
"Dude, you don't have a gun," Sam whispered.
"And?" Dean replied. "I'm not letting that bastard or anyone die tonight."
"Actually," I whispered, unzipping my jacket to show them my gun.
"What type of bullets?" Dean asked quietly.
"Iron, ten bullets in total," I answered, handing it to him.
Dean pulled out the magazine just to be sure, then handed it back. "You keep it. It's your gun, and you two are going up there."
I nodded, putting the gun back in the holster.
Sam looked at Dean concerned, "You cool?"
"Go," Dean just said.
Sam and I nodded, going upstairs to the attic. Once up there, I coughed at the amount of dust and cobwebs filtering the air, let alone some mildew here and there. But for the small attic, there were boxes upon boxes of the previous owner. I got in first, though when Sam tried to get in, he banged his head.
"You alright?" I asked.
"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing the bump on the noggin.
"Downside of being tall," I teased.
Sam rolled his eyes, holding the flashlight while I dig through boxes. Most of the boxes were filled with clothes and mothballs. I asked Sam to aim at the corner, which he did, showing a box with Rebecca's name on it. I crawled over since it was in the small space of the attic. Sam cleared his throat, turning the light away.
"Sam, light," I called out.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, aiming the light in my direction.
I grabbed the box and dragged it back to where Sam was. When opening it, we found Rebecca's stuff from books, clothing, and figurines. Although when opening the box, the first thing we were greeted with was a headless doll.
"Ugh," I groaned.
"Guess we know where the head goes to," Sam muttered.
"Yeah," I said, taking the doll out and lifted the clothing. After searching, I found a leather-bound journal. Breaking the girl world code of privacy, I open the journal, reading the first entry that was a diary. "Found the diary."
Out of nowhere, there was screaming. Quickly Sam and I went downstairs to find the family went and Dean was wrestling with a girl. The girl was pale with tangled brown hair, wearing a dress from the seventies. She held a knife swinging wildly at Dean, screeching like a banshee. Dean tripped, carrying the iron poker in defense while the girl raised the knife, ready for the kill.
"Hey!" Sam bellowed, holding a flashlight aiming at the girl's face.
The girl saw the light and screamed, covering her face. She scurried out of the light, running to the closet. Sam went over to capture her, except she vanished. What the hell? What type of ghost are we dealing with?
"What happens?" I asked.
"Turns out, we're dealing with the phantom of the opera," Dean muttered, getting up.
"What?" I said, confused.
"We're not dealing with a damn ghost. It's a girl." Dean explained.
"And she's gone," Sam added.
Dean went over to the closet, confirming what Sam said. How could this girl vanish if she's not even a ghost? From what Dean could tell from the encounter, we're dealing with an actual human. Not taking another catfight, we went outside. Brian came over, confused.
"Where is everybody?" Dean
"Hiding," Brian answered.
"Alright, go get them. Go. Go get them." Dean said. Brian nodded, getting his family. We three went over what we just learned. "It's not a ghost."
"So, it's just a girl?" Sam asked.
"It's not just a girl. It's Psycho Nell." Dean answered.
"Who?" I asked, never heard that name.
Dean waved his hand, meaning forget it. "I'm telling you, man - - humans."
"So, who is she then?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca." Dean guessed. "Maybe she didn't hang herself."
"No, she would be fifty years old by now," I said.
"Well, I don't know. What'd you find in the attic?" Dean said.
"Some old junk. Skylar found Rebecca's diary. That's about it." Sam said.
"I wish you'd found a howitzer," Dean grumbled, taking a deep breath. "Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human so that they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off."
Sam pointed out the Carter family was back. Still scared out of their wits about the situation.
However, two members were missing. Brian called out for Danny and Ted, telling them to let go. Only Ted came in, joining the group. Susan called her son over and over again, but the boy was a no-show.
"I told you it was some crazy bitch," Ted muttered.
"Yes, you did," Dean said bitterly.
"Whatever," I spat.
"Hey, uh, head to town. We'll take it from here, okay." Sam said to the family.
"Danny, come on, baby! We're leaving!" Susan called out.
"Danny, we gotta go!" Brian yelled.
The boy didn't return. There was silence waiting for the boy, thinking he either typed his shoes or ran farther and returned. But he wasn't coming back.
"Brian, where - - where is he?" Susan asked.
"Danny!" Brian bellowed.
The parents panicked, calling for their son. Brain tried to calm Susan before she ran back inside, "We will find Danny. I promise you. Take Kate and go now."
"Not without Danny!" Susan cried. "No way!"
"I'm not going out there with mom alone!" Kate said.
"She's right. She's right." Dean said, trying to stop the fight, separating the parents. "Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now is in the shed."
Kate looked at him as if he were stupid, "I am not going in there, either."
"Yes, you are. It is the best defense. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now." Dean explained. "Trust me."
"Susan, Kate . . . go," Brian told his family.
"Skylar, I want you to join them," Sam said.
"You sure?" I asked.
"Yeah, go join them and make sure they're safe," Sam answered.
I nodded, running with the girls until we got in the shed. I looked around, examining the area for any hidden doors or loose regions the girl on the wall would get in. Finding none, I told Susan and Kate not to lean against the wall as I locked the door. We waited for the guys to return, as I had gun safety unlocked while sitting on the ground, holding a flashlight reading Rebecca's diary.
As I read, I held a straight face not to frighten Kate and Susan, except what Rebecca wrote was a complete nightmare. This girl lived in hell, full of abuse, neglect, and . . . incest. Bill Gibson did more than abuse his daughter; he raped her and . . . Impregnated her. The abuse got worse during the pregnancy, and Gibson called her worthless, a whore, and will hide the baby inside the house so no one will know in this small religious town.
When Sam and Brian knocked on the door, I let them in and showed Sam what I just found in Rebecca's journal. He read the entry of Gibson raping his daughter and the baby being in shock. He quickly hid this before any of the Carter family saw his reaction. We're not dealing with Rebecca; we're dealing with Rebecca's daughter. And add the incest to the mix, the girl's psychological behavior is out of whack.
"Look . . . why are we just standing here?" Brian asked, pacing around in the shed. "Let's go in.
Let's check the house.
"We have to wait for those guys to get back, okay?" Sam said.
Suddenly rapid knocking bang on the door. "Sam, it's me. Help me out." Dean's voice said.
Quickly Sam opens the door letting Dean in. However, he came in alone. Ted was not with him, and the look on Dean's face meant he was dead.
"Did you get Danny?" Susan asked.
"No," Dean answered.
"No…" Susan said. "W-well, where's Ted?"
"He's outside," Dean answered. His head bowed, not looking at Susan or anybody.
"Well, why doesn't he come inside?" She asked.
Dean took a deep breath looking at Susan, "Because I had to carry him out. I'm sorry."
The Carter Family gasped, comprehending what Dean meant. Ted was dead.
"What does that mean that you're sorry?" Susan asked.
"Are you saying that he's dead?" Brian asked.
"No. No, he's not saying that he's dead. You're not saying that, are you?" Susan said, denying this.
"We were in the walls, and she attacked," Dean confirmed to Brian's question.
"Oh my god," Susan gasped.
"And I couldn't get to him in time." Dean finished.
Susan hugged her husband crying.
"Uncle Ted is dead?" Kate asked in shock.
"I shouldn't have left him alone. I'm very sorry." Dean apologized before getting out.
.o0o.
An hour later, we waited for Dean. Sam and I read the diary to get a better picture of what is going on. Meanwhile, Kate paced in the shed, while Brian soothed his wife. It wasn't helping Susan, assuming her son is dead since Rebecca's daughter killed her brother Ted. Brian reminded her that Danny said, The Girl in the Wall wanted him to stay and the rest of the family to go. So hopefully, Danny is still alive.
"No. No. I don't understand why this happens to us. I mean, we're good people. We're a good family." Susan mumbled.
"What happened to Andy happened, okay? I cannot change that. But I will find Danny, I promise you. And when I do, we are gonna be fine. You and me, the kids -we're gonna be fine." Brian said.
"Okay," Susan nodded.
Sam and I listen to their conversation then back to reading.
Brian went outside, saying he needed some air and seeing if Danny got out by any chance. A moment later, Sam went outside to make sure he doesn't get killed. I leaned against the wall closing the door. Ten minutes later, I finished reading the last diary entry. My god, Rebecca, lived in hell. Bill Gibson destroyed his daughter in every direction that lead to her suicide. No, what he did was her murder, killing every ounce of innocence and forced her to death.
I told Susan and Kate to stay here and went to find the boys. I found Sam telling him that we need to show Dean about what is written. We walked to the front of the house, seeing Dean with Brian. They looked at us.
"Dean, we gotta talk," Sam said.
Dean nodded, telling Brian to go back to the shed. We hunters headed inside to discuss the diary and what we're dealing with.
"What is that?" Dean asked, seeing the diary.
"Rebecca's Diary. We just finished reading it." I said, a bit disturbed.
"And?" Dean asked, going to the closet to make sure the girl in the wall wasn't there.
"Thar girl back there - - We're pretty sure she's Rebecca's daughter," Sam said.
"Rebecca had a kid?" Dean asked, surprised.
"Kids," I corrected. "Twins. Although, she wrote one of the kids was too ill and assumed the child died."
"It's all she talks about - - being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant," Sam said.
"Geez. Rent 'Juno.' Get over it." Dean muttered. "Wait – why kill herself after the babies."
"Maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock the baby up. Where nobody could ever see it." Sam explained.
"Also, back in the day, a woman who wasn't married and had children were frowned upon," I said. "Along with the town would have known if a girl was pregnant, or someone was adopting. But that's not it."
"And what else?" Dean asked.
"Well, um . . . he's not just grandpa," I answered.
Dean's eyes widen, "Oh, gross."
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
"So the daddy was the baby-daddy, too?" Dean asked to confirm.
"He was a monster, Dean," I said. "He put her through hell the moment she turned twelve."
"Why twelve?" Dean asked.
"Seriously, did you pay attention in middle school health class?" I asked.
Dean caught what I mean and shuddered. Yeah, ever since Rebecca's menstrual cycle started, Mr. Gibson went all at it. Since some people believed when a girl bleeds, she became a woman.
"Wow. A story ripped from Austrian Headline. Humans, man." Dean said, shaking his head.
"So she's been locked up in this house for her whole life?"
"You saw her eyes," Sam said. "Has she ever seen the light? She's barely human."
"Okay, so what then. She's kept caged up like an animal. And then she busts out and ganks dear, old dad/granddad?"
"Apparently," I said.
"Well, can't say I blame her," Dean said.
"I'm sure her life was hell, Dean. That doesn't mean she gets a free pass for a murder spree." Sam reminded.
"Like you know what the hell's like." Dean snapped.
"I didn't," Sam started.
"Forget it," Dean finished.
"Boys focus." I reminded them both. "Right now, we need to save Danny and figure out what we are gonna do with the girl. Our options are killing her ourselves, or get the kid out and have the local authorities handled this?"
"So, where do we find her?" Sam asked.
Dean paused, thinking about it. "Kid's gotta eat, right?"
"What?" I asked.
"He kept her hidden, locked up, but he had to feed her, didn't he?" Dean said.
"I guess," Sam answered.
"I think I know where," Dean said. "Sky, get Brian, and protect the girls."
"Aye, aye, Captain," I said, going out as instructed.
.o0o.
The men were inside the house in search of getting Danny. I stayed with the girls keeping watch. The chest blocked the door, the window sealed, and the board and any source of possible entry were secured. I sighed, sitting on the chest, holding my gun, making sure it was together correctly. Kate and Susan sat on a bench as Susan tried to calm her daughter.
"It's all right," Susan murmured, combing her fingers through Kate's hair. "It's alright."
And then the gut feeling of something terrible is going to happen.
Out of nowhere, the single window burst open, causing the glass to shatter everywhere. Kate and Susan screamed, backing away from the window. Susan pushed Kate back while I got my gun standing in front of them aimed at the window. The area was engrossed in silence. Nothing happen though my Spidey-senses were tingling, pointing at the wall where the girls leaned against.
"Get back!" I ordered.
Suddenly a knife punctures through the wall between Kate and Susan. The women screamed, jumping back. I fired my gun, hoping I got her. Silence again, only this time you could hear whimpering.
"Stay center of the shed," I told them.
Kate and Susan nodded as they stood center of the shed away from the walls. I walked around, leaning anxiously but not too close to listen to the girl. Footsteps were leading to one side of the wall in the bottom corner. Looking down, hearing a creaking, until a board started shifting.
"Mom!" Kate gasped.
"Fuck," I cursed, bending down, trying to keep the board down. I sat on the ground and pushed my legs against the board. Susan came over with a rake, driving the metal brush on the bottom as well. We pushed hard against the girl's entry, trying to prevent her from coming in.
However, the girl pushed back, practically running through the board, causing both Susan and me to tumble. I pushed Susan aside as the girl on the wall crawled in, raising her knife at me. I grabbed her hand, mustering all my strength to keep her hand back. She growls, leaning forward, attempting to bite me, except I head-butted her. She cried, pulling her head away, though added much strength to her hand with the knife.
"Gun!" I yelled at Kate.
The gun was by her foot. Kate kicked it over to me. I grabbed the gun, leaning to the side as the girl stabbed forward to the ground. I grabbed my gun, shooting her in the gut, causing the bullet to be through and through. The girl gasped, holding her stomach, and raised her knife for another kill. However, something grabbed her leg, dragging her out.
Kate and Susan grabbed me, pulling me off the floor away from the hole. We remained silent, listening to the girl scream as somebody stabbed, sliced, and killed her. The boys must have come after hearing the gunshot. And after another cry, there was silence. We stood there listening, hoping this was all over.
Pounding on the door surprised us. When hearing Brian yell for Susan, we relaxed. Susan and I went to the chest, moving out of the way before answering the door, letting Brian in. He walked in covered in blood while holding a knife.
"She's dead," Brian said. "And Danny is safe."
Susan cried, walking over to her husband, but he lifted his hand, "Maybe after I clean up."
His hands were shaking—a universal sign of shock after a first kill. Hunters told me the first kill, no matter what it is will startle people. Let alone the blood on him, must have been a massacre of adrenaline. We got out of the shed as the women headed to the steps where Danny was, while Brian and I moved the girl's body. However, the moment he saw her, he froze. I told him to stay where he was as I moved the girl's body, dragging her near the bushes.
She laid there, body spread out. I got a better look at her, seeing she was in her thirties. A woman trapped in a frightened child's mind and on instincts. Skin pale as snow, eyes an ice blue shade, and veins exposing all over her body. The way she lived her life inside the walls. The sun and society's isolation had indeed turned her into a ghost—a vengeful ghost in a taboo body.
A hand rested on my shoulder. I flinched, turning around to see Sam. He gave a concerned smile, leading me away from the girl's body, back to where the others were. After ten minutes of comprehending what had happened, Brian suggests he calls the police. Dean advised him to wait, allowing us hunters to collect our weapons, and leave. Brian hesitated but said okay, allowing Dean to fix the two tires on the Impala. At the same time, Sam and I dealt with obtaining the weapons.
Sadly, I being skinny and shorter, had to go into the crawl space's filth, collecting guns, knives, and bullets. I cursed at Sam, who waited at the dumbwaiter laughing at all my girly shrieks when touching a dead rat or stepping into something that isn't an animal. I even screamed in seeing a dead body of a boy. Sam mention Dean killed the twin brother, but he didn't say where the boy was lying.
After an hour, I managed to collect all of the hunting gear out of the basement. Sam lowered the rope as I wrapped it around my waist, and he pulled me up. Once out, I got a better look at myself, as my clothes were now ruined, being cover in mud, blood, and shit.
"You owe me a pair of new boots," I grumbled.
"I'll add it to the Christmas list." Sam chuckled.
"Size 8," I said.
"Come on, let's see if Dean got the Impala fix," Sam said, grabbing a duffle bag filled with gear, and then wrapped his arm around me, leading the way out.
We walked outside as Dean finished swapping tires. It was seven in the morning, as the sky were grey and the sun up. We put the hunting gear in the Impala's trunk, making sure everything was secure, and we had everything. The last thing we want is police finding a silver bullet or a gun casing with rock salt. That would make things complicated for Mr. Carter to explain to the local authorities. And speaking of the devil, Brian and Susan came out all clean.
Dean got up after taking the Impala off the jax. "Thanks for the head start."
"Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?" Brian said.
Sam chuckled, "Sort of a, uh . . . the mutual-appreciation thing, really."
"Well . . . thank you," Brian said, shaking our hands.
"Thank you," Susan said, shaking my hand.
"You okay?" I asked her.
"No. We're the opposite of okay," Susan answered. "But . . . we're together."
As she and Brian held hands.
So with our final goodbyes, we headed back to the motel. None of us spoke as we went to our separate rooms, showering and putting on clean clothes. Hell, I even took a five-hour nap when my cell phone rang. I was so exhausted that my six senses didn't realize it was going to ring. Answering the phone, I was greeted by the Dean of Arts, who discuss the investigation.
Apparently, the guy who turned in my photo first stolen it from my Deviant Art account, thinking the professor wouldn't notice. Also, my artwork style was similar to another photographer; the only difference is the pottery. It's hardly noticeable, but after a game of "Find the difference," it was clear that it didn't plagiarize or steal another artist's artwork. I thanked the Dean for falling back to sleep again.
.o0o.
The next morning, I met up with the boys outside the motel, packing all my things into the car. They stood there helping out with putting the duffle bag in the trunk and such.
"Thanks for giving us a tip," Dean said.
"No problem," I replied. "Though I should be thanking you guys for helping me out on this one."
The Winchesters nodded. Dean came up and hugged me until he decided to give me a nuggie messing up my hair. I whined, smacking him on the chest as he laughed at it. Rolling my eyes, Sam came over and hugged me.
"Call me if your ability scares you. I promise I'll be there this time." Sam whispered into my year.
I nodded, knowing Sam hasn't told Dean about this. It's probably for the best right now, with the world on his shoulders and the aftermath of Hell. The last thing Dean wants to know is that his friend is a freak as well. Also, Jo having a paranormal hearing.
When Sam and I pulled back, I smiled. "You boys stay out of trouble."
"That's gonna be hard," Dean said.
I sighed, shaking my head. Dean laughed though it didn't sound real as before. Not bothering to point it out. I got in my car as the boys stared at me.
"Smell you later!" I called out and then drove back to college.
What do you think? Pick the next case you want to see Skylar in.
Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!
Updated
