This chapter's a little gross. Just fyi. *shrug*
...
For the next two weeks, Sam had them chasing cases all across the country. A possible werewolf case in Sacramento. That quickly turned out to a mountain lion. Possible ghost case outside of Atlanta. That was quickly disproved.
...
July 21st, 2009
Manchester, New Hampshire
They traced a rougarou in New Hampshire. Three people dead, partially eaten. They actually were going to talk to one of the victims friends when it happened. The door was open, and they went in. Alex went off to the left, Dean went to the left, and Sam headed upstairs.
Alex found herself in the living room. Everything looked normal. She rubbed her finger over the grips of her handgun, looking around nervously. Then she heard a small shout of alarm, and she booked it into the kitchen.
There was Dean. He was staring down at a man, who was kneeling over another man. Dean was trying to light his torch, but for some reason, the lighter wouldn't light. The rougarou stood up, fingers tightening on the handle of a butcher's knife.
On instinct, Alex raised her gun and fired. Her aim was dead on, and the crack of the fracturing skull could be faintly heard over the boom of the gun. The rougarou crumpled to the ground, dead. Alex frowned. That shouldn't have happened. It should have distracted him, not killed him.
"I know."
Alex looked over at Dean. Had she said that out loud?
"What was that?" Sam tore into the room. He stopped, looking down at the two bodies. "What the hell?"
"I don't think that was a rougarou." Dean frowned. He rolled the dead man over with his foot. "Gunshots don't kill those sons of bitches."
"So he was human?" Alex looked disgusted and horrified. "Oh my God he's a freaking cannibal." She looked down at the gutted man. "He-He doesn't even cook them? That's disgusting and totally unhealthy." She looked up at Dean, eyes wide. "You can get sick eating raw meat."
Dean glared up at her. "Wow. Way to focus on the important things." He stood up. "Well, do we leave them?"
Alex left Sam and Dean to discuss clean up. She walked around the kitchen, then, grabbing a dish towel, opened the fridge. "Fuck." She felt sick.
"What?"
Alex let the fridge door fall open. A severed head sat there, as well as several other body parts in bags and jars. "This - This is sick."
There was a thump. Alex literally jumped, eyes wide. "What was that?"
Both Sam and Dean stood up, whipping out their guns. Neither spoke, but somehow, they knew exactly what each other was thinking. Sam raised his eyebrows. Dean shrugged. Then he pointed towards the floor. Sam nodded, and they snuck out of the room.
Alex followed. The Winchesters stopped beside a door, and the brothers once more exchanged looks. Then, Sam opened the door. The stairs disappeared into dizzying darkness. Sam pulled out his flashlight and stepped down the stairs, and Dean followed. Alex felt for a light switch, but there was nothing. She reluctantly followed, pulling out her flashlight as well.
They reached the bottom of the stairs. Alex swung her flashlight about and actually screamed. White, hot terror tore through her body, and she thought she would faint. A body hung from the ceiling by its ankles. It was almost cut in half, the large gash stopping halfway down its ribs. The head was gone. Dean was at her side immediately, and then the whole room was lit in a harsh glow.
As Alex came back to her senses, she realized Sam had found the light switch. Part of her wished the lights were back off. She turned into Dean, squeezing her eyes shut.
The whole room was awful. Alex had only seen it for a second, but the image was burned in her mind forever. Bodies lay off to one side, all in different states of dissection. Off to the right, however, was what looked like a living space.
"You okay?" Dean rubbed her back.
Alex nodded. She forced herself to turn back to the scene. It was only a little less terrifying the second time. It's just like at Bobby's, she told herself. Just like an autopsy. You've seen dead bodies before. No big deal. She shivered nonetheless. Most of the bodies were headless; in the corner the heads lay in a pile. Some bodies were dismembered, with only torsos remaining. Others still had limbs, but their stomachs were split open.
Alex forced herself not to run. "T-There aren't this many people missing, r-right? H-How did he get all of them?"
She felt Dean's hand on her shoulder. "I don't know."
"Fuck. This - that's just sick."
Alex turned to Sam, glad to turn her attention to something else. She approached, then forced herself not to vomit. She trembled. "Oh God."
Sam was standing in the middle of the living space. His face was pale with shock. Alex had never seen him that way. But she could understand why. Sam was staring at a lamp. But it wasn't a lamp. Not really. The lampshade was made of human skin. Alex felt bile rise in her throat as she recognized a human ear.
Dean stepped up behind her, and she rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans before reaching out to take his hand. Dean didn't say anything. The horrors didn't end there. There was a skin chair, as well as an apron made of faces. Against the far wall sat a large trunk lined with human skin.
"Look at this." Sam pointed to a piece of paper nailed to the wall next to the apron. His lips twisted in distain and confusion.
"Can we not?" Alex looked towards the stairs. "I'd rather leave."
"I'm good with that." Dean beelined for the stairs. Alex hurried after him, and Sam followed, turning off the lights.
...
Once outside, Alex sank to the grass next to the car, shaking uncontrollably. Then she threw up. Twice. Oh God. That was disgusting. She looked up to see Sam and Dean leaning against the car, watching her. "What?" she snapped crossly. "That was fucking disgusting."
Sam nodded, but Dean frowned. "Language," he warned.
Alex ignored him. "I don't do zombies, and I certainly don't like cannibals." She looked up at Sam. "Sorry. What were you saying before I so rudely interrupted you about getting the hell out?"
Sam snorted in amusement. "It's nothing. On the wall, there was a picture of a skin apron, but it was a different one." He shrugged. "Nothing important."
"So there were two?" Now that Alex was out in the open sunlight, she was admittedly a bit more curious.
"Maybe." Sam shrugged. "Let's get a drink first." He pulled open the passenger side door.
Dean grunted in agreement. "I'll call the cops later." He turned to walk around to the other side of the Impala. Alex followed.
It was early in the evening. All three of them were sitting at a darkened table at a nearby bar. Sam had his laptop out, a half-finished beer at his side. Actually, it was his third beer, but no one was counting. "Hey. Look at this."
Alex, who was sitting next to him on Dean's laptop, leaned over, then blinked. "What?"
Dean must have overheard, because he excused himself from the chick he was taking to and walked over to his brother. He leaned on Sam's shoulder, looking at the screen. "Isn't that what we saw in that basement-?"
"Yeah. But it wasn't the same one." Sam clicked on a different tab. "This one was, uh, made by Ed Gein."
Alex immediately pulled up a fresh tab, and typed Ed Gein into the search bar. She was immediately confronted by a lot of images. "God." She winced. "That's exactly what we saw at the house." She looked over at Sam. "So, let me get this straight. This guy was some sort of Ed Gein wannabe?" She wrinkled her nose. "Dude, that's even worse."
"Yeah, I guess, except Gein wasn't a cannibal."
"Great. So its more like Ed Gein meets Armin Meiwes." Alex shuddered.
Sam nodded. "In fact, he only killed two woman. The rest of the bodies came from graves he exhumed."
"That explains why no one reported any of those guys missing." Dean walked over to the bar, ordered two more beers. He came back and handed one to Alex. She eagerly took it, opened it, and took several large gulps, ignoring the bitter taste. Damn, she needed it.
"Look. The lamp, the chair, the necklace of tongues-"
"There was a tongue necklace?" Alex threw back her chair, standing up. "Fuck this, I'm out. I'm going back to the motel." She slammed the laptop closed and slid out of the booth. "Where's the key?" She held out her hand, looking pointedly at Sam.
"Get Dean's." Sam looked over at his brother, who had already returned to the chick. "I doubt he's going back to the motel tonight."
Alex grumbled obscenities under her breath, but walked over to Dean. "Hey." She leaned against the table next to him. "I need a ride back to the motel. And the keys to our room, preferably."
"Hold on." Dean politely excused himself from the woman once again, turning to Alex. "Can't you just walk back? It's like ten blocks."
"It's seven o'clock, it's almost dark, and honestly, this is a pretty sketchy part of town. And coming from a hunter, that's saying something." She left unsaid the entire 'I'm entirely creeped out by the cannibalistic psychopath' part.
Dean let out an amused noise. "You'll be fine." He fished the motel key out of his pocket. "And if someone tries to kidnap you, call for your angel boyfriend." He laughed at his own joke, then dropped the key in her hand.
Alex resisted the temptation to kick him in the kneecap. She stalked back to the table where Sam was, grabbing her beer. "If I get kidnapped, don't wait up," she grumbled before stalking back away. She heard Sam laugh.
...
Out on the street, the sun was just starting to set. However, the streets were already dark. "Fuck this." Alex shoved her hands in her jean pockets. One came out to feel her left back pocket. She frowned, remembering that she had left her gun back at the motel. With an added curse, she started down the sidewalk.
"Dammit." Alex kicked a rock into the gutter. She didn't want to walk home alone. Not only was this neighborhood totally sketchy, but she had spent the afternoon in a cannibal-slash-wacky-pyscho-killer's basement. Great. There went her nerves.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she jumped when she brushed shoulders with someone. She looked up. "Sorry."
The man looked down at her, letting out a crooked smile. "No problem, sweetheart." Alex started to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "What's your name?"
Alex pointedly brushed his hand off. "Fuck off." She stalked away, taking a long swig of her beer.
...
The hair on the back of her neck had been standing on end ever since she had bumped into that man. She had refused to look behind her, but, after five minutes, she turned. Her fingers balled into fists. There were three men following her. Alex turned a corner. They followed. She turned again. Yet still they followed.
Alex circled around the block. When she didn't lose them, she shakily reached for her phone. She called Dean's number. It rang, rang, and rang again, but it went to voicemail. She tried Sam's number, but with the same results.
Now Alex was in a slight panic. By this point, she had finished most of her beer, and had now reached the end of a busy street. She turned down a darkened alley. "Well fuck," she muttered aloud. The street was long, dark, and the shortest way to the motel. She paused, looking behind her. Those three men stood there.
Alex had had enough. "The hell do you want?" she yelled.
They didn't answer.
Alex frowned. "Christo!"
Nothing happened.
"Well, at least you're not demons!" Alex cupped her hands by her mouth, shouting at her stalkers. Then she turned and walked away, lengthening her stride. "Cas?" She looked up at the sky. "Castiel? Please get your ass down here!" Nothing. "Please?" Alex looked around. "Any non-douchy angel? Fuck, Gabriel, I'd take you right about now."
"What do you want?"
Alex turned at the gravelly voice. "Cas." She let out a breath of relief.
The trench-coated angel tipped his head. "You were calling for Gabriel?" Even in the dim light, Alex could see the frown twisting his lips downwards.
The young woman blushed. "Those three men have been following me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. They were approaching quickly, now seeing Castiel with her.
"Have they hurt you?" Castiel's blue eyes flashed in concern.
"I'm scared," Alex admitted. "I-I don't know if they're going to kidnap me or rape me or rob me or whatever. But they've been following me since the bar." She swallowed down the rest of the alcoholic beverage, tossing the bottle near a dumpster.
The men approached, and Castiel stepped forward. Alex pressed herself into the brick wall next to the angel. He growled. "Go."
The leader stopped about fifteen feet away, his white teeth glinting in a cruel smile. "Fuck off."
"Or what?" The angel's voice took on a dangerous tone.
"Or we'll make you." A large knife gleamed in the three mens' hands, and Alex swallowed nervously. Now she was really glad that Castiel had showed up.
Castiel didn't react. The next moment, lighting flashed. Behind him, the shadows of large, dark wings were cast on the brick walls. They flared up angrily.
Knives clattered on the ground as the three men turned tail and ran. The lightning faded, and Castiel watched them run.
Alex stepped up to Castiel, grinning in relief. "You should do that more often," she commented breezily. She awkwardly reached up, feeling the back of his shoulders. There was no trace of wings. Huh. "Thanks." She patted his shoulder amiably, turning to walk down the street.
"You're welcome."
Alex stopped, eyes closing. She took a deep breath. "Cas? C-Can you stay with me for a while?"
She felt Castiel approached, and he stopped a foot behind her. "Why?" His voice contained only curiosity.
"I, uh, I had a bad day." Alex glanced over her shoulder at the angel. "Honestly, it's been terrible." She turned her entire body to face Castiel. "Please stay until Sam comes back." Castiel blinked, and Alex blushed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "You're probably busy. And I forgot your superiors and whatnot don't like you hanging around us so much."
Castiel tipped his head, gaze unblinking. "It's fine," he promised. "I can stay as long as you need."
Alex smiled in relief. "Thanks." She started back down the alleyway. "It's only another block down."
Castiel lengthened his stride to catch up to her. "Why was your day so bad?" he asked. "Was it because of those men?"
"Nah." Alex shook her head. "I just didn't have my gun on me. Otherwise I could have taken care of them." She sighed. "We, uh, we - it's nothing. We thought we were hunting a rougarou, but it turned out to be a cannibal that ate live people and dug up the dead ones to make . . . stuff. Like, lamps and chairs." Alex shuddered as the memories returned. In all honesty, she hadn't been able to get them out of her head. But in the dark, they caused her blood to freeze in fear. She felt her heart speed up.
Castiel noticed too. "That sounds unpleasant."
Alex nodded. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I-I don't want to be alone." Despite the warm July air, Alex shivered.
The angel nodded in sympathy, if not understanding. "I can stay as long as you need." Seeing how the young human shivered, he shrugged off his trench coat, offering it to Alex.
She took it, wordlessly thanking him. It was heavy, but warm, and offered the allusion of comfort. She wrapped it tightly around her. It smelled like Castiel. As she thought about it, she wondered if it was how - what was his name? Something Novak - how Cas' vessel smelled. It was nice.
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
...
The motel's fridge was stocked with beer. Alex pulled out a cold one, the day's memories too strong. She cracked it open and sat down at the table.
Castiel stood against the wall, watching her. "How many of those have you had?" he asked as Alex quickly downed half the bottle.
"Not enough." Alex wiped her chin with the back of her hand, not even looking up. "I, I can't sleep. I can't keep thinking about what I saw . . ." She shuddered, the hot pulse of terror running up her spine. "I'm terrified."
Castiel obviously couldn't empathize. "And the drink helps," he stated instead.
"Yeah. At least a little bit." Alex took another sip, ignoring the bitter taste as it went down. She shrugged off the trench coat and held it out.
Castiel approached, taking back his coat. He sat down across from her, lips twisting into a frown. "I could . . ." He shook the thought off.
Alex took another sip. "I, uh, thanks for staying. I don't know what I'd do if I were alone." She let out a snaky laugh. "I'd probably die of fear."
Castiel's frown deepened into confusion. "I don't think that's possible."
Alex looked the angel straight in the eyes. "It's possible," she said with complete seriousness.
Castiel stepped even closer. "Your heart is beating really fast." He sounded worried. "Is there anything you need?"
Alex glanced over at the bed. "I . . . can you make me sleep? No dreams, no nightmares, nothing until tomorrow morning?"
Castiel nodded. "Yes."
Alex let out a weak grin. "Great. Let's do it." She swallowed down the rest of her beer - her forth one by now, but no one's counting - and stood up. She unstably made her way over to the bed and lay down. Immediately the panic overtook her, and she reached out for Castiel. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his trench coat, pulling him down . He sat down beside her, placing his hand on her forehead. Alex reached up to stop him. "Cas? Don't leave until Sam gets back. Please?"
The angel nodded. "Promise." Then he touched her forehead. Alex immediately fell into unconsciousness.
...
When she woke, the room was light. Alex winced away, letting out a loud groan. "Morning, princess." Dean's loud voice rang through her head, and Alex rolled away from his voice. "Feeling a little hungover?"
"Fuck off." Alex felt the bed dip under Dean's weight, and her stomach twisted.
His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she groaned again. "I was thinking about going to get breakfast," he suggested lightly. "How does a greasy pulled pork sandwich sound?"
Alex felt bile rising in her throat, and she lashed out weakly with her legs, catching Dean in the hips.
He barely even reacted. "That's what you get for downing four beers. You probably slept like a baby."
At that, Alex raised her head, looking over at Sam. He didn't look her way, and Alex rolled out of bed. "Fuck off," she huffed again, stumbling towards the bathroom.
Dean watched her go with an amused grin.