The sun was streaming in through the windows of the Impala as it parked in front a rather shabby-looking apartment building. The brothers stepped out of the car simultaneously, both wearing black suits. They walked up to the nearest apartment door, rang the bell and listened to the muffled footsteps approaching the door. The door opened a crack to reveal a stubby man with little hair on his head, wearing baggy trousers and a dirty t-shirt.
"Yeah, what do you want?" He growled at them as he took in their appearance.
"FBI. We are looking for Sophie Oakman." Sam said as he and Dean held up their fake badges.
"She lives with her father in number six." The man said as he stepped aside, allowing them to enter a hallway with a worn carpet. The paint was pealing off the walls, giving the place an eerie look. The man disappeared behind a door with a large sign reading PRIVATE painted on it. Sam and Dean proceeded down the hallway, halting in front of a door with a painted number six on the door. Sam knocked on the door and it was opened not long after by a man in his late fifties.
"Who are you?" He asked as he too took in the appearance of the brothers.
"Mr Oakman?" Sam asked, receiving a small nod from the man as an answer. "FBI; we are looking for your daughter, Sophie Oakman."
"Let me see some identification." Mr Oakman ordered and Sam and Dean pulled out their badges for a second time. The man almost looked disappointed when he gave a small nod and showed them into the apartment. "Sophie is my daughter; she's had a rough couple of days. Go easy on her."
He was clearly worried about his daughter; Sam recognised it immediately. He gave the man a reassuring smile and said, "Of course, Mr Oakman."
He showed them into a coop of a living, before shovelling out again telling them that his daughter would be there in a minute. Dean let out a sigh of relief.
"Dude, I have never been quiet for so long in my entire life. I mean when the occasion required…" His voice tailed off as he looked at Sam.
"Do you want me to applaud?" Sam requested. Dean rolled his eyes; he knew that it was no good arguing with Sam when he was in this mood.
"Sorry if I've kept you waiting." A soft female voice from the doorway distracted them. The girl, or rather, young woman looking at them was in her early twenties, with short dark blonde hair. She walked into the living room and sat down on a chair opposite the couch which she gestured to Sam and Dean. "Have a seat."
They sat, Sam on the edge of his seat, Dean leaning as far back as the couch would let him. Sam didn't even spare him a glance when he put on his sympathetic FBI face. Dean had seen him use it many times before; it was a mask, and a damn good one at that.
"Miss Oakman –" Sam began.
"Please, call me Sophie; Miss Oakman makes me feel kind of awkward." Sophie interrupted him.
"Sophie, what happened the night Daniel died?" Sam asked in that false sympathetic tone.
"Well we had gone to the Spire's Ranch, the bar, for a few drinks and laughs. We had plenty of those, and when we finally left it was pretty late. We started walking away from the bar, still chatting, until he suddenly just…fell. That was it; he was gone." Sophie finished wiping away a tear.
"Had he said anything beforehand? Was he feeling unwell?" Sam pressed on, but keeping his sympathetic tone intact.
"No; he was fine. I don't know why it happened to him." Sophie's last comment seemed to be more to herself than to the two men in front of her.
"So you didn't notice anything strange before?" Sam asked. Dean could see his determination, knowing him so well, but he was really good at this; making everyone feel comfortable even at this topic.
"No, there was…" Sophie's voice tailed off as she suddenly looked up at them, her eyes filled with horror. "There was…one thing."
"Yes?" Dean said, leaning forward on the couch.
"You're going to think I'm crazy; the police did."
"Believe us, we see and hear a lot of strange things in our line of work." Dean reassured her. Dean noticed a muscle tense in Sam's neck, but he didn't say anything.
"A couple of days before he died, I saw a…erm….I don't really know what you would call it, but the closest thing I can get to is a horse-like creature. Dad said I was dreaming or had just had too much to drink, but I swear to you, that what I saw was real. I don't know what it was, but it was definitely there in my garden, staring at me." Sophie took a deep stuttering breath, and shook slightly with the memory. She did not look like someone who was lying, far from it.
"We'll look into it, I promise." Sam said as he got up from the couch. Sophie looked at him with gratitude in her eyes. She seemed to have a lot of questions, but kept quiet, only wishing them good luck as they walked out of her apartment.
Once back out on the street, Dean glanced back at the building he had just left. They settled themselves in the Impala and Dean turned on the engine.
"Dude, that was weird; even for us." He said as they drove away from the buildings.
"Yeah, I know." Sam said, looking as though he was lost in thought.
"Have you got a hunch on what is going on?" Dean asked his brother, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.
"Not really." Sam admitted. "Once we've found a motel, I'll call Bobby and hear what he thinks of this."
"Good idea." Dean said, hoping that the experienced hunter would have a clue, because he was a little bit unsure himself; just a little bit; maybe quite a lot. "I'll look through Dad's journal; see if he has ever come across anything like this."
"Anything like what, Dean?" Sam suddenly asked. "I mean, we haven't really got a clue what is going on around here."
"We'll figure it out, Sammy." Dean said reassuringly.
"It's Sam." His brother snapped at him. His face suddenly fell slightly, and then he looked at Dean with a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Jerk."
"Bitch."
"Did she really say she saw a horse?" Sam asked for about the tenth time.
They had found a (shabby) motel, and Sam was taking out his phone as Dean settled himself in a chair with his father's journal in his hands.
"Yep." Dean had retorted to this remark every time Sam asked this question, as it was getting on his nerves the way his brother kept repeating himself.
"Bobby will think we've gone mad." Sam mumbled as he dialled Bobby's number.
"You calling Bobby?" Dean said as he flicked casually through the journal.
"Yeah." Sam answered as he listened to the beeps. "Bobby; it's Sam…No, everything's fine; it's just this case we're working. We wanted to ask if you had any ideas…no, no nothing like that; just an odd death once in a while. But Bobby, have you…er…ever heard of a horse-ghost, or anything like that? You have?" Sam sounded thoroughly surprised. "Is that with one 'L'? Yeah, I've got it…thanks Bobby…I will…You too."
Sam looked puzzled as he put down the phone. Dean snapped shut his dad's journal and looked at Sam, waiting for him to speak. His brother, however, took out his laptop, and started typing.
"Well, what did he say?" Dean said urgently.
"He'd never hunted anything like it, but he had heard of something. Something like a Scandinavian myth. He said that…erm…they buried horses alive in front of a new built church to bring it luck." Sam looked mildly disgusted by the thought.
"Yikes." This was all Dean could think to say. He, like Sam, thought it mildly sickening.
"Apparently, the first encounter or recording of this thing was in 1673." Sam informed his brother, looking intently at the laptop.
"Does this pony have a name?" Dean said trying to sound casual. He had to admit that he thought that this sounded kind of weird.
"Helhest. Bobby said it means something like Hell's Horse, but he was not quite sure." Sam said, remembering what Bobby had told him.
"Sounds comforting." Dean said, again in that would-be casual tone. "Did Bobby say anything else?"
"No, I said he would try and dig into it a bit. He had quite a lot of old notes and stuff stacked away, so he said that he would look through them and see if anything about the Helhest came up."
They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their individual thoughts. Dean's mind suddenly did a double take, remembering what Sam had said earlier.
"Hey, dude, what was the name of that bar again?"
"Spire's Ranch." Sam answered dutifully, as though he had not quite heard what Dean said. He suddenly froze, however, and looked at Dean. "Do you think that means that the church is close by?"
"Could do." Dean said, finally feeling they were getting somewhere. "Sounds like we need to go and grab ourselves a couple of beers."
"Dean, do you think a horse was buried there." Sam asked his brother, looking away from him. "Do you actually believe this?"
Dean was not quite sure whether he had heard him correctly. After all the things they had seen, and now he was questioning this?
"You can have ghost people and ghost dogs; why not ghost horses?" Dean said, surprised to find his voice rather defensive.
"And I suppose there are aliens too?" Sam snapped back at him. He had clearly picked up Dean's defensive tone.
"Ever been to Roswell?" Dean said, determined not to let Sam win this argument.
"Dean…why are we even talking about aliens?" Sam said, coming to his senses.
"You started it." Dean said the remark that would usually have been said be six year old.
Sam gritted his teeth and looked at his brother again.
"So, are we going to this bar or not?"
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