A/N: Here's the next chapter~! Hope you guys enjoy it :)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAM OR DEAN WINCHESTER THEY BELONG TO THE WRITERS OF SUPERNATURAL. THE OCs, HOWEVER ARE MINE.
Sam reached for the flashlight, his fingertips barely grazing it as he lay on the floor. So many things were going on at once it was hard to concentrate. Dean was yelling something as shots went off, mixing with the terrible screeches coming from the nurses. The second they had opened the door to Wellon's room, they had shown up as if on cue. Things weren't looking so good. Sam finally got a hold on the flashlight and smacked it against his palm, trying to get it to work. A dim light flickered from it, then the light returned, not as bright as it had been before, but still good enough for Dean to see his targets.
"Eat this, bitch!" Dean yelled, firing a salt round right at one of the nurses' heads. She dissipated, leaving the other one snarling before he got rid of her too.
Sam got up, shining the flashlight around the room, desperately searching for any clue that the body could be in the room.
"It doesn't smell like dead dude in here." Dean said, shotgun still ready.
"Just keep looking, Dean." Sam's clipped response gave away his anxiety.
Dean put his hands on the wall, applying pressure and knocking to see if there was a hidden room somewhere. He didn't have the luxury of the flashlight, which Sam was shining in the other direction, caught up in his own search.
A loud bang sounded, accompanied by Dean loudly cussing. In the dark, he had smacked into something.
Sam shined the light in his brother's direction. "Dean? What-"
"Friggin' piece of shit!" He kicked the side of the wooden desk, sending it toppling over with a loud crash and a rustle as papers fell along with it.
Sam was about to make a sarcastic comment when he noticed something. Right under where the desk had previously been, there was a small trap door.
"Huh...didn't see that one coming." Dean said, giving the door a confused look before he dug in the bag for the crowbar he packed, pulling it out. Sam moved back a little, focusing the light on the door. Dean shoved the crowbar between the crack, giving it a hard wrench. The wood crackled and moved slightly, but it didn't open.
"C'mon.." Dean said under his breath, tightening his grip on the crowbar and giving it a violent jerk. It burst open, sending dust flying into the air, as well as a terrible stench.
"Ugh.." Sam said, covering his nose with his sleeve.
"Alright let's do this." Dean said, grimacing. He slung the gun strap over his shoulder and started descending down the ladder.
"Toss me the light!" he yelled up when he reached the bottom. Sam dropped the flashlight down the hatch, then started down himself.
"Holy shit..." Dean said. Sam was trying not to gag as he finally got to the bottom, stepping on hard ground.
"What- oh...oh my God.."
There were bodies everywhere. Most of them were so old there was nothing left but rotted away flesh clinging to bone. All of them had telltale signs of being cut open and butchered like an inexperienced surgeon just hacked away at them. Along the wall lay all the heads in a straight row, almost looking like some sick museum display. Dried blood covered so much of the place it almost looked painted red- and the stench was enough to make even Dean squeamish. He shined the flashlight around, taking in the scene. The light stopped on a headless body dangling from the ceiling by a rope tied around its feet.
"I think I found our guy..." Dean said. "All the other bodies are female except that one."
"Yeah..." Sam was still trying to keep himself from throwing up. Opening his mouth to talk didn't really help much, so he kept his sentences short.
Dean took the gun of his shoulder and handed it to Sam. "Here. Cover me just in case."
Sam nodded and readied himself for an attack.
Dean began stepping around the carnage, slowly making his way to where Wellons hung. He stepped on something squishy, but didn't bother looking- he'd probably barf if he did. As he finally made it over, he set his bag down, bringing out the salt and lighter fluid.
"We're gonna have to get out of here fast once I torch him...all the others will light up just as quick." He said, flinging salt all over the body.
"Yeah." Sam agreed, taking a step back toward the ladder. The hatch was still open, letting a slight draft into the stuffy, corpse-filled room.
Dean set the salt down and began dousing the body with lighter fluid, grimacing at the smell of gas mixed with rotting flesh. He carefully placed everything back in the bag, getting a match ready. He gave a nod to Sam, telling him to start up the ladder. Sam slung the gun over his shoulder and turned, quickly climbing up. Dean lit the match and stepped back, chucking it at Wellon's body. It ignited in a fiery roar, immediately setting the bodies around him off. He turned, sprinting toward the ladder and climbing as fast as he could as the fire spread.
Sam waited at the top for his brother, anxious to go and find Alice. Suddenly, a loud, blood-curdling scream came from the floor above them, making Sam jump. Dean had just reached the top of the ladder when the scream sounded. He froze, giving Sam a look.
"No..." Sam said, sounding broken. "He couldn't...we burned him."
"Maybe we weren't fast enough." Dean suggested grimly, hoping he was wrong.
Sam's heart thumped painfully. He took off, tearing out of the room and sprinting toward the stairwell at the end of the hall. He had to find them. He had to know. His stomach was churning with a sick realization that he may have failed in saving her.
"Sam!" Dean yelled after his brother ran from the room. He sighed and sprinted after him, hoping for everyone's sake that Alice was still alive- especially for Sam's sake. He could tell he liked her and losing her would just add another nail in his coffin. They didn't need another death to deal with.
"Alice!" Sam yelled, his voice bouncing off the stairwell walls, his quick footfalls accompanying the sound. "Mell!"
He slammed the stairwell door open, yelling their names again. Dean followed a little bit behind, yelling also. Some unspoken fear inside him wondered if Mel was okay. Wellons did like beheading women, and that was the one way Mel could actually die.
Sam was beginning to feel hopeless, a deep sadness welling up in his chest. 'I just can't save anybody, can I?' he thought grimly, clenching his fists. This was all his fault. He had seen her death coming and knew how to prevent it, but he had still failed. People never stopped dying around him.
"We're in here!" The reply finally echoed from a room down the hall.
Sam turned his head toward the sound, then started running. Dean caught his breath for a second before following at a slower pace. He wasn't used to so much running. Sam glanced in every room as he ran, skidding to a stop when he finally saw Mel- and, to his relief, Alice.
She was leaning against the wall, a gauze taped to her left shoulder, blood staining the sleeve of her shirt. Sam stood still for a moment, breathing heavily from getting so worked up. He let out a relieved half-laugh. "You're okay." he said.
"Yeah. Just a gash, nothing headless." Alice joked slightly.
Mel shook her head. She never understood why her sister always joked when she was bleeding.
"Who screamed..?" he asked.
"Alice did. He caught her off guard, that's all. He burnt up not soon after, thanks to you guys." Mel replied.
Sam kept his gaze on Alice a minute longer before he walked toward her. She moved away from the wall a little, wondering why he was coming toward her. He wrapped his arms around her in a grateful hug, sighing and closing his eyes, so glad she was okay.
Alice's eyes widened and she felt her face grow hot. After a moment, she hugged him back, glancing at her sister, who gave her an 'I-told-you-so' look.
Dean walked in, taking in the scene and letting out a chuckle, hiding his relief. He walked toward Mel, giving her a crooked smirk. "Now, about that drink.." he said.
Mel laughed. "Of course. Drinks it is."
Sam pulled away from Alice, looking slightly confused. "Wait what?"
"I asked Mel out for a drink earlier. We're gonna head to the bar after this, you and blondie wanna come?" he offered.
"Uh...sure. I'm up for it. Alice?"
Alice's face was still a little red. "Sure, that sounds good. I really do need a drink after all of this."
Dean grinned. "Alright. Let's get the hell out of this place then." he said, putting his arm around Mel's shoulder and starting to walk out.
Sam gave Alice a small smile before following them out next to her.
After a century of gruesome deaths and screeching ghosts, the Wellons' Lunatic Asylum was finally silent.