March 12th – March 17th, 2006

Dean had been acting super over-protective lately. He said it had something to do with me almost dying multiple times in the past few months, but I just thought he was being dramatic.

We were sitting at an outdoor café, while Sam used a payphone to call around about info on Dad. Dean was working on his laptop, and I was eating my breakfast while swatting his hand away from my food from time to time.

Sam hung up the phone, and Dean yelled over to him, "Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis."

"Bite me," Sam said as he sat down at our table.

"So, anything?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

Dean shrugged. "Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found."

Sam looked disappointed, but he knew Dean was right. If Dad didn't want to be found, he would make sure that no one could find him.

"Check this out," Dean said as he turned his laptop toward Sam. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

Sam leaned in and squinted as he read, "'The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9-Mile Road.'"

Dean nodded. "Keep reading."

"'Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer,'" Sam read, "'The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.'"

Dean shrugged. "Could be something interesting."

Sam shook his head. "Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."

Dean nodded. "But what if it is? Dad would check it out."

Sam sighed and put his head back, clearly feeling defeated. Dean shut his laptop, stood up, and grabbed the last piece of my breakfast sandwich.

"Um, excuse yourself," I snapped, "I was eating that."

Sam got up and laughed.

Dean smirked. "We have to go, and I didn't want any food wasted." He turned and walked toward the car.

Sam followed behind.

I crumpled up the wrapper. "It wouldn't have been wasted if you just let me finish it!" I shouted and chased after my brothers, tossing my wrapper in the garbage on my way to the car.


After about an hour, we pulled up in front of a big house with giant Greek letters on the front. There were guys all over the lawn, working on cars or messing around with each other.

Sam sighed. "One more time, why are we here?"

"Victim lived here," Dean said and turned toward me. "Unfortunately, I don't think you can pass for a frat guy."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I kinda figured I would be staying in the car."

Sam and Dean got out of the Impala and walked up to a group of guys working on a car. After a few minutes, one of the guys pointed up to the house, then Sam and Dean walked in.

Ugh, I had to convince Dean to let me help somehow. I had been so involved in the last couple of cases, there was no way I was going back to how it used to be. I didn't want to go back to sitting in the car, waiting for them. I put my head back, and then I decided to lay down and get a quick nap in.

I was woken up a while later by the car doors opening and slamming shut. I sat up and stretched. "So, did you guys find out anything interesting?"

Dean started the car and pulled away from the house. "Kid told us that they think a crazy drifter killed the frat guy."

"Yeah, his name was Rich. Apparently, he was with Reverend Sorensen's daughter, Lori, at the time," Sam said.

"I'm guessing that's where we are headed then?" I asked.

"You are correct," Dean said.


We pulled up in front of a big beautiful church with huge stained-glass windows.

"So, I'm guessing I'm waiting in the car again," I said.

Dean turned with a smirk on his face. "No, actually, I was thinking you could come with us."

"Really?" I smiled.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, if something is going around killing people in this town, I want you close to us."

I dropped my smile. "Oh." I was disappointed that he only wanted me around to protect me, not because he thought I could be helpful to the case. I opened the door and got out of the car, waiting for my brothers to do the same, before heading toward the church.

When we walked in, the reverend was in the middle of speaking, "Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter. And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church..."

The door slammed shut behind us, and when everyone turned to see what the disruption was, we quickly found a place to sit.

The reverend nodded. "As a community, and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passing's. So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children."

Sam nudged me, and I looked around, noticing that everyone except for Dean and me were bowing their heads. Dean and I cringed at each other, and then we both quickly put our heads down.

After everyone finished praying, the reverend continued his sermon, and then everyone got up to leave. On the way out, we spotted a girl we believed to be Lori. We followed her outside, and once she had finished saying goodbye to her friend, we approached her.

"Are you Lori?" Sam asked.

The girl turned around. "Yeah."

Sam smiled. "My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean. And our little sister, Maddison."

Dean nodded. "Hi."

"We just transferred here to the university. Our parents and Maddi came up for a visit," Sam said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

Lori smiled. "I saw you inside."

"We don't wanna bother you," Sam said, "We just heard about what happened and—"

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean said.

"I kinda know what you're going through." Sam looked at her sympathetically. "I— I saw someone... get hurt once. It's something you don't forget."

Lori nodded sadly and then looked over when she noticed the reverend walking up. "Dad, um, this is Sam and Dean. They're new students. And this is their little sister, Maddison."

I waved and smiled at the reverend, he nodded at me and returned a smile.

Dean reached out and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."

The reverend nodded. "Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message."

Dean chuckled. "Listen, uh, we're new in town, actually." He gestured for the reverend to walk with him. "And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group."

"Tell me, Lori. What are the police saying?" Sam asked as Dean, and the reverend walked away.

"Well, they don't have a lot to go on," Lori said, sadly, "I think they blame me for that."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"My story. I was so scared. I guess I was 'seeing things,'" Lori said.

Sam shook his head. "That doesn't mean it wasn't real."

Lori smiled at Sam, and then Dean and the reverend approached us. Dean and I said goodbye to Lori and the reverend and walked back to the Impala. Sam continued talking with Lori for a bit longer, and once they said their goodbyes, he joined us in the car.

"Where are we headed off to now?" I asked.

"The library to do some research," Sam said.


"So, you believe her?" Dean asked when we walked into the library.

Sam nodded. "I do."

"Yeah, I think she's hot, too." Dean smirked, and I rolled my eyes.

Sam shook his head. "No, man. There's something in her eyes. And listen to this, she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."

"Wait, the body suspended?" Dean asked. "That sounds like the—"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend."

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever." Dean shook his head. "You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man."

Sam shrugged. "Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began."

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?" Dean asked.

"Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all," Sam said, "What if it's some kind of spirit?"

"Wait, wait, wait." I held up my hand. "What is an urban legend?"

Sam and Dean stopped and looked at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Dean furrowed his brow. "You don't know what an urban legend is?"

I shrugged. "I only know as much as you guys tell me, or I read. And I've never heard about urban legends before."

"You need to get out more, kid," Dean said, ruffling my hair.

I pushed his hand away and stuck my tongue at him.

"An urban legend is like a story that gets passed on, it's usually meant to freak people out. Sometimes parents tell them to their kids to prevent them from doing something stupid," Sam explained.

I nodded up at him with a smile. "Thanks, Sam, for being a good big brother."

Dean nudged me, and I smirked at him. Then we finally found a table and got set up, Dean and I sat down ready to start.

"I'm going to ask one of the librarians if they have any arrest records for the town," Sam said and walked off. He returned a few minutes later with a librarian.

She set a few boxes on the table in front of us. "Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851."

Dean blew some dust off the top of one of the boxes and coughed. "Thanks."

"Okay." The librarian smiled and walked away.

"So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" Dean asked as he opened one of the boxes.

"Welcome to higher education," Sam said as he opened another box.


We all grabbed some files out of the boxes and began reading. After a few hours, the library started clearing out, and we had gotten through almost all the files. We had barely talked the whole time.

Sam finally broke the silence. "Hey, check this out."

Dean and I walked over to him.

He pointed to a paper. "1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red-light district in town that one night he killed thirteen prostitutes. Uh, right here..." He pointed to a section on the paper and read, "'Some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.'"

Dean picked up another page. "Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook."

"Look where all this happened," Sam said, pointing to another page.

"'9-Mile Road,'" Dean and I read in unison.

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sam said.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out," Dean said, patting Sam on the back.


We parked on 9-Mile Road in a wooded area near a lake.

"Stay here, Maddi. This could get dangerous," Dean said, and then he and Sam got out of the car.

I groaned and put my head back against my seat, crossing my arms.

Dean opened the trunk of the car, and they rifled through some things until they found what they needed. "Here you go," he said.

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good," Sam said.

"Yeah, rock salt," Dean said.

They were talking about the salt bullets Dean and Dad had made for their shotguns for when they had to deal with angry spirits.

"Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent," Sam said.

"Yeah. It won't kill 'em. But it'll slow 'em down," Dean said and closed the trunk.

They started walking toward the trees in front of the Impala.

"That's pretty good. You and Dad think of this?" Sam asked.

Dean laughed. "I told you. You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius."

They suddenly stopped, Sam held up his gun, and Dean pointed into the woods. I quickly hopped into the front seat, hoping I would see what they were looking at.

A sheriff came out of the woods. "Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head."

I quickly crouched down, not wanting him to see me.

"Wait, okay, okay!" Dean yelled.

"Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees! Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!" the sheriff yelled.

"He had the gun!" Dean yelled.

I could hear the rattling of handcuffs. "Now is there anyone else with you?" the sheriff asked as his footsteps approached the car. Then he opened the front door and pointed his gun and flashlight at me. "Get your hands up!"

"She's just a little girl!" Sam called out.

I put my hands up and squinted at the light being shined in my eyes. I heard him holster his gun, and then he lowered the flashlight. The sheriff offered me his hand, which I took it and climbed out of the car.

The sheriff walked over to Sam and Dean and pulled them to their feet. "Who are these men?"

"They're my brothers," I said shyly, trying to act as innocent as possible.

The sheriff loaded Sam and Dean into the back of his car and opened the front door for me to get in. I got in, and then he walked around to his side and got into the car as well. "We're going back to the station to get some answers."

I sat back and crossed my arms, I looked out of the window and waited to arrive at the police station.


When we arrived at the station, I was taken to a separate room from Sam and Dean. A man came in and sat down at the table across from me.

"Can I ask you what you and those men were doing in the middle of the woods at night with a gun?" he asked.

"I'm a minor." I shrugged. "So, I don't have to answer any of your questions, and those men are my brothers."

"You're right." The man nodded. "You don't have to answer my questions, but there has been a recent murder in the exact spot where we found you and your brothers."

"You think we were involved in that?" I asked.

"It seems suspicious. Killers usually return to the scene of the crime," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "What a cliché."

"Please, I'm just trying to help you," he said.

I started to make my bottom lip quiver. "Well, my brothers and I were out there because that was our parent's favorite spot to go. And you see... they died about five years ago." I forced tears in my eyes and let them run down my cheeks. "We always go out there on the anniversary of their death. They brought the gun because they knew about the recent murder and how the man who did it hasn't been caught." I leaned forward and put my face in my hands, letting the waterworks go. "Please don't take my brothers away from me. They're all I have, and I'll be completely alone without them."

"Oh. Oh, god. Don't cry," the man said and patted my hand, trying to comfort me. "Don't worry. I will get you and your brothers out of here right away." He got up and left the room.

I sat up and wiped my fake tears away. I wasn't necessarily proud that I could manipulate people like that, but it was useful in some situations.

A few minutes later, another man came in and led me out to the front of the building where Sam and Dean were waiting for me. Sam walked up and hugged me. Then we continued walking to Dean, who ruffled my hair when we reached him.

When we walked out of the front door, Dean turned to Sam. "Saved your ass! Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock."

"But how?" Sam asked, and we continued walking.

Dean smirked. "I have a way with people."

"I don't know what you think you did, but you guys getting off with only a fine has nothing to do with you." I patted Dean on the back and laughed.

Dean looked confused. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I told them that we were out there 'cause it was the anniversary of our parent's death, and that was their favorite spot to go."

"And the gun?" Sam asked, taken aback.

"You guys knew about the recent murder, and you just brought it for protection," I said.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back at me.

Dean put his hands out. "It was that easy?"

"Well, and I cried." I smirked.

"Aw, come here." Dean opened his arms for a hug.

"They weren't real tears, ya dope." I chuckled, smacked him in the stomach, and then ducked under his arms. I walked off to the Impala, which had been parked out in front of the police station for us.

Sam and Dean followed me, but just before we got in the car, a bunch of police officers ran out of the building and jumped into their cruisers. They turned on their sirens and sped off down the road.


We followed the police cars to a big beautiful house. As we drove by, we saw Lori sitting in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket, she looked like she had been crying. We didn't stop but instead kept driving until we were parked behind the house on another street. Once we parked, we got out and snuck in, making sure we weren't seen by any of the police officers or people standing in the front yard.

"Why would the Hook Man come here?" Sam asked as we snuck along the side of the house. "This is a long way from 9-Mile Road."

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime," Dean said, "Maybe it's about something else."

Two girls came out of a side door just ahead of us, and we quickly leaned against the side of the house so they wouldn't see us.

Dean leaned forward a bit. "Dude, sorority girls! Think we'll see a naked pillow fight?"

I groaned, and I rolled my eyes. As Dean was ogling over the girls, Sam started climbing up the side of the house to a balcony. Once Sam was up top, Dean lifted me up, and Sam grabbed my hands and pulled me the rest of the way onto the balcony. Dean followed shortly after, then we walked around the corner of the balcony to see a window. Sam opened it, and we all filed in. Dean was last, but when he climbed in, he bumped into me, which caused me to bump into Sam.

"Oh, sorry..." Dean whispered.

Sam turned to Dean. "Be quiet."

"Me, be quiet? You be quiet," Dean whispered, angrily.

"You be quiet," Sam whispered back.

I put my hands up in front of their faces. "You both be quiet." Then I pushed Sam forward.

Sam looked out of the closet door, and when the coast was clear, he opened it. Dean and I started to walk out, but Sam quickly put his arm up. We looked out of the bedroom door to see a police officer walking down the stairs. We waited a minute, and once he was gone, we continued out of the closet. As we walked out, we saw a bloody bed and writing carved into the wall.

Sam read the wall, "'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'"

"Is this part of the urban legend?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right." Dean tapped himself on the nose. "It's definitely a spirit."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before."

Dean walked over to look out of the window.

"Hey, come here," Sam said, causing Dean to turn back. "Does that look familiar to you?" He pointed to a cross symbol on the wall.

Dean looked at it for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah." He gestured to the window we crawled through. "Come on. Let's go before we get caught."

We worked our way out of the house and to the Impala, the same way we came in. Back at the car, Sam pulled out one of the papers we had copied at the library. The picture had the same cross symbol on it. Except the symbol was attached to the hook hand that Jacob Karns used during his murder spree.

Sam pointed to the picture. "It's the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns."

"All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down," Dean said.

"'After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery,'" Sam read the paper, "'In an unmarked grave.'"

"Super," Dean said sarcastically.

"Okay. So, we know it's Jacob Karns. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next," Sam said.

I nodded. "Or why."

"I'll take a wild guess about why," Dean said, "I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this."


We pulled up in front of a giant house party later that night. Sam and Dean got out, and I sat forward and rested my head on the front seat, just waiting for them to return.

After about ten minutes, Dean came out and joined me. "It's just you and me, kid. Hop up front." He patted the seat next to him.

I hopped over the seat and got buckled.

"I didn't mean for you to literally hop into the seat. You could've used the door," he said, looking over at me.

"Why does it bother you so much when I do that?" I asked with a smirk. "I'm not hurting anything."

"I don't think you're hurting anything. It's about respect for Baby," he said as he rubbed the top of the dashboard.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Where are we going anyway?"

"We're going to the graveyard to see if we can find Karns's grave," Dean said.


We drove past a sign that read, Old North Cemetery. Once we parked, we got out of the car, and Dean handed me a flashlight. He grabbed two shovels and a flashlight for himself.

Once we walked in, we started looking around for anything that could indicate where Karns might be buried. Suddenly I heard rustling coming from behind us, I gasped, and grabbed Dean's arm. We both stopped and looked around for a moment and then decided it was nothing.

Dean chuckled. "You were scared."

I let go of his arm and shoved him. "No, I don't get scared."

"Yeah, sure." He smirked.

I shined my flashlight around and eventually came across a gravestone that was engraved with the same cross symbol. "Hey, look." I nudged Dean's arm and pointed it out to him.

"Here we go," Dean said, and we walked over to the grave. He handed me one of the shovels, and we started digging.


We had been digging for almost an hour, we were covered in dirt, and my arms were burning.

Dean stopped and leaned up against the dirt wall we had created. "That's it. Next time, I get to watch the cute girl's house."

I stopped too. "Hey, I'm a girl. And I think I'm pretty cute."

Dean laughed. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Yeah, I know." I laughed. "I just like messing with you." I shrugged. "I think I'm pretty fun to hang out with, though."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, just wish we weren't hanging out digging up a body." He tapped his shovel on something hard. "Here, I think we've got something." He walked over to me, picked me up, and set me back up on the ground. Then he took his shovel and broke through the wooden casket below his feet. "Hello, preacher," he said and then threw the shovel up onto the ground. "Can you hand me the salt, lighter fluid, and matches?" he asked.

I reached over and dug into the bag, grabbed what he asked for, and handed it to him. I watched as he poured the salt and lighter fluid onto Karns's body.

Dean lit a match. "Goodbye, preacher," he said and dropped the match onto the bones.

"Well, what do we do now?" I asked.

Dean sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Now, we bury the bones."


We had just finished putting the dirt back when Dean got a call. "Sam?" (...) "Okay, we are on our way." He hung up and then turned to me. "Come on, there's no time."

"What's wrong?" I asked nervously, "Is Sammy okay?"

"Yeah," Dean said as he gathered up our stuff. "Let's go." Then he turned and ran for the car.

I chased after him, jumping over gravestones, trying to keep up. Once we got to the car, we got in and took off.


We pulled up to a hospital and ran inside. When we got in, Dean grabbed my hand and quickly led me to where we needed to go, but we ran into a group of police officers who were blocking our way.

"You can't come through this way," one of them said.

"No, it's all right, we're with him." Dean pointed to Sam, who was standing outside of a room talking to the sheriff. "He's our brother. Hey! Brother!" he yelled down at Sam and waved.

Sam and the sheriff turned toward us.

"Let them through!" the sheriff yelled.

The police officers nodded and moved aside to let us through.

"Thanks," Dean said, and we walked down to Sam.

The sheriff nodded at Sam and then walked off.

"You okay?" Dean asked when we reached him.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Hook Man," Sam said.

"You saw him?" Dean asked, shocked.

"Damn right." Sam furrowed his brow. "Why didn't you torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about, we did," Dean said, "You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?"

"It sure as hell looked like him," Sam said, "And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend." He shook his head and glanced into the room.

I looked in and saw that the reverend was hooked up to machines, and Lori was crying next to him.

"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself," Dean said.

"I think it's latching onto Lori," Sam said, "Last night, she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman."

Dean shrugged. "So, what?"

"So, she's upset about it," Sam said, "She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

Dean shrugged and looked at Lori. "Okay, so she's conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to the repressed emotions, and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?"

"Right." Sam nodded. "Rich comes on too strong, her roommate Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, dad has an affair."

"Remind me not to piss this girl off." Dean shrugged. "But we burned those bones. We buried them in salt, why didn't that stop him?"

Sam shook his head. "You must have missed something."

"No. We burned everything in that coffin," Dean said.

"Did you get the hook?" Sam asked.

Dean and I looked at each other. "The hook?" we asked in unison.

Sam nodded. "Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him."

Dean sighed with realization. "So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power."

Sam nodded. "So, if we find the hook—"

"We stop the Hook Man," we all said in unison.


We had gone back to the library to try and find some more information about Jacob Karns.

"Here's something. I think..." Dean said, "'Logbook, Iowa State Penitentiary. Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.'"

"Does it mention the hook?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, maybe..." Dean continued reading and then nodded. "'Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.'"

"Isn't that where Lori's father preaches?" I asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Where Lori lives?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe that's why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past 200-years."

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might've seen it?" Sam asked, "I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?"

"Check the church records," Dean said, gesturing to the pile of papers in the middle of the table.

We went back to researching, but this time I was the one to break the silence. "'St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received a silver-handled hook from the state penitentiary... reforged.'"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "They melted it down. Made it into something else."

"Well, let's start looking then," Dean said.


We pulled up to the church, and Dean turned to me. "Maddi, this could get dangerous, so you have to stay here."

"Come on. I will be with you guys. Please, let me come." I begged.

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

I looked over at Sam for help, but he just shrugged, and they both got out. They walked out in front of the car and stopped to discuss their plan.

"All right, we can't take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "I agree. So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in."

Dean shrugged. "All right, take your pick."

"I'll take the house," Sam said.

"Okay," Dean said, and they began walking to their separate locations. Dean turned back. "Hey." Which caused Sam to turn around. "Stay out of her underwear drawer." He laughed and walked away.

Sam shook his head and continued toward the house.

After a while, Sam came out of the house with a bag and walked across the street to the church. I decided I wasn't going to wait in the car anymore, so I waited a few minutes and then followed in after. When I walked in, I had no idea where Sam or Dean was, but I heard crying coming from one of the pews. I turned and looked up the aisle to see Lori praying.

Then the door next to me opened, and I jumped back. I looked up to see Sam and Dean. I just waved and smiled, knowing that I had been caught, and there was no explaining anyway. Sam spotted Lori crying and walked off to her, Dean sighed angrily, grabbed my arm, and dragged me down to the basement with him. They had been burning anything silver that they had found in the furnace.

Dean turned around. "What are you doing in here?"

I shrugged. "I'm tired of being left out all the time. I just want to be with you guys and help."

Dean walked forward and hugged me. "I know, kiddo. I just don't want you to get hurt."

I nodded. "I know."

Suddenly, we could hear running and the sound of wood and glass breaking upstairs.

Dean pulled away. "Stay here. I'm serious, Maddison." Then he ran upstairs with a shotgun.

I heard his footsteps, and then he yelled, "Sam, drop!"

Then the shotgun went off. I could hear mumbling between Sam and Dean.

"Well, maybe we missed something!" Dean yelled.

There was more mumbling between the three of them, and then Sam yelled, "Is it silver?!"

"Yes!" Lori yelled.

I walked over to look up the stairs hoping I could see something, but I couldn't.

"Sam!" Dean shouted.

My heart pounded because I had no idea what was going on upstairs, all I could hear was yelling, running, and things breaking. I felt like I was about to rip my hair out because I wasn't allowed to go upstairs. Until Dean finally ran back down and threw something in the furnace.

"What was that?!" I asked urgently.

"Lori's necklace," he answered, out of breath.

I gasped. "Look." I pointed. The pendant had broken off the necklace and melted almost instantly.

"Come on!" Dean said, grabbing my hand.

We ran upstairs to where Sam and Lori were. When we got there, there was smoke and pieces of the hook man burning up and flying away. Sam and Lori were sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. We all let out a sigh of relief. Then Lori called the police, and we all waited for them to arrive.


A few minutes later, we heard sirens outside, and we walked out. Sam was taken away to the ambulance because the hook man had cut into his arm. Lori was taken off to talk to some police officers, and the sheriff had been asking me and Dean questions about what had happened inside.

"And you saw him, too? The man with the hook?" the sheriff asked Dean.

Dean nodded. "Yes, I told you, we all saw him. We fought him off, and then he ran."

"And that's all?" the sheriff asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's all," Dean said.

The sheriff pointed at us. "Listen. You two and your brother—"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean said, "We're leaving town." He put his arm around my shoulders, and we walked away to the Impala.

We got in and watched Sam and Lori say their goodbyes. He hugged her and then walked toward the Impala.

"He really likes her, doesn't he?" I asked Dean as I turned back around.

Dean nodded with a sad expression in his rear-view mirror. Then Sam opened the door and got in.

"We could stay," Dean said.

Sam didn't say anything and just shook his head sadly, holding his bandaged arm.