A/N: own nothing about Supernatural.

To begin with: THANKS a lot for everyone who read and reviewed the first chap!! You guys are awesome!!

Took me long enough, but here is chap 2! Hope you like it!!

Chapter 2 – A bloody secret.

Sam and Dean kept their eyes open; like a dead hardened body, no blinking, while that woman, maybe senile, hard to figure out, grinned at them evilly… stopping her pacing. Dean stopped too, being precise with his moves, following the lady's lead.
A few seconds and no one moved, or spoke…her grin grew wider and she let out a laugh, a sarcastic, mocking laugh… very loud. Her rotten teeth displayed in her smelly mouth, it was a disgusting sight. Both brothers frowned, raising their eyebrows. What the hell was up with that lady?
Her evil grin broke into mockery. She was making fun of them! An old lady was making fun of two hunters with guns.

Dean immediately relaxed and let out a fake 'ha-ha'. Sam also offered half a grin to the woman and her awkward sense of humor. That sure hadn't been funny…not for them. The lady on the other hand, held her rotten smile; she showed nothing more than satisfaction by scaring the brothers. It had been easy.

"Gotcha". She said winking at them, obviously satisfied by being able to scare the brothers.
She loved to create tension among people, defying them, bring them to an edge. It had become easy for her to mess with someone's psych, find a weak spot and use it against them. It was like playing chess. You don't need a gun or a knife to be threatening. Words can do the job very well. The words, how you say them…the tone, the look in your eyes, the expression on your face...the pauses you make between one comment and another. Teasing was a fun game, making people angry for almost no reason was a delight…and over the years, it had become her hobby.

"Two idiots…afraid of an old lady. That's pathetic". She stated shaking her head in disapproval. They were still exchanging looks, that lady sure had a peculiar sense of humor. "Now, if you have no intention of killing me during my sleep..." She said her half sentence and left the room taking her time not really giving a damn if her guests would stay or not. Maybe she didn't even care so much if they were killers or if they were selling bibles. She was old, wrinkled; her youth had been a history of trials. Was there really a difference, to live a few more years or a few more hours to her?

"Gotcha…and idiots?" Dean repeated her words. "That's what she has to say after the whole chopping into pieces and feed the dogs crap".
"I kinda like her, she has sense of humor". Sam joked.
Dean chuckled at his brother's statement. "And I kinda like clowns; they have sense of humor too". Dean joked back making Sam go from a smile to a frown. Dean had joked before, about Sam crying every time he saw Ronald MacDonald's. In his mind, only crazy people liked clowns. They weren't Sam's idea of funny or entertaining. And yeah, they could be as creepy as an old lady with a weird sense of humor.

Dean took another good look around and approached the huge windows, opening the purple silky curtains abruptly. There was indeed a heavy rain, and dark clouds had totally covered the sky turning the day into a young night. They could still try to go back to the car. However, the weird lady was right about one thing. Getting lost was a possibility, a certain one.

"Guess we have to stay after all". Sam said approaching the window as well.
"Bet you ten bucks there are at least four or five angry Caspers here". Dean said dragging his brother into a childish game. He was sure the woman had no DVD player or T.V., so why not a good old ghost hunting?
"Four or five? I bet two or three maximum". Sam took the bet.
"That's all? Ha! I can feel your ten in my pocket already". Dean said in his mocking tone still looking outside the window. Looking at the dark was some how hypnotizing, at least for a hunter who knew what things could hide in the shadows.

His eyes went widen open. "Sam, look". Dean said pointing to a specific spot outside.
It looked like a girl, wearing an old fashioned light blue dress, running fast but gracefully, through the rain, the dress following her moves like in a ballet presentation. Her bare delicate feet didn't seem to care about the rough stony path which she was going through. Her perfect hair, dark and curly, similar to a doll's hair, covered her face not allowing them to see her features. Just as fast she appeared running bravely under such bad weather; she also disappeared from their sight.
It had been after all, Dean's sharpen instincts, hunter instincts; once again, guiding him to a gig. Or in this case, to a possible victory in his bet. "I'll race you outside". Dean said as they exchange a look and ran to the door to find their way out of the house. Or try to.

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"Ok, if you were a mysterious girl, where would you run to?" Dean asked recovering his breath. The damn house was even worse than the trees in the front garden. It took them about forever to find the way back, through all those doors, which looked about the same, and corridors with the frames, also looked all about the same, making them feel as if they were going in circles. Neither could tell if they had or not actually gone in circle a few times. But Dean was sure he'd stick with the living room next time they entered the house. The door had a cheesy green color and was easy to find.

"Do I look like a mysterious girl?" Sam asked back, also recovering his breath.
"Do you honestly want an answer for that?" Dean replied making Sam roll his eyes. Dean just loved how his almost naïve brother always gave him a chance to come up with those replies.
"She went that way, so she could have entered …in that place to the right…or the left".
"Flip a coin?" Dean suggested, reaching for his pocket to see if he had a coin.
"Or you check the right, I check the left". Sam made his own suggestion. Dean seemed to enjoy making things complicated sometimes.
"Why do you check the left?"
"You wanna check the left?"
"Nah, I'll check the right".

Under the thick cold rain, and blinding lightening, the boys go separate ways to look for the girl. The muddy floor showed no kinds of marks they could use as a trail. The rain was way too heavy to let out any traces of steps, human or not human behind. Bad weather had never been a reason for the Winchesters to put a hunt aside. Especially if they were trapped in a house like that.
But yeah, sometimes John would wake up Dean in the middle of a rainy night; disturb his holy sleep to go on a hunt. Those nights he wished he could just tell his dad to go to sleep and leave him alone and to do the same. Or maybe make some popcorn, and watch a scary movie while drinking a couple of beers. That was a perfect way to spend a rainy night too…and obiviously, Dean had some naughty ideas, many of them, he had already tried with a few girls.

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Sam enters the place and removes his soaked jacket leaving it on a dusty table at the entrance. The place seemed to be a sort of warehouse, unless for a few peculiar details.
The light was provided by a single candle that, despite of the wind, and the lack of inhabitants in the house, was there burning fiercely, providing a dim light.
The warehouse, at least that was what Sam imagined it was, had no windows or decoration of any kind saved by the variety of spider webs spread all over the corners and ceiling.
The place was quite empty to be exactly a warehouse. There was no stock of food, drinks or anything a farm need to be sustained.
There was just that small table where Sam's wet jacket lied. Sam noticed, at the back of the place, a medium size closet, very old as all the other things in the house, with golden broken handles. That was all he had to check in there. That place hadn't been entered or cleaned for a few good years if not more.

Sam doubled checked the gun hid at the back of his pants. He wasn't really sure which gun he had with him, the real bullets or the rock salt one. He just hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Gun checked, he goes deeper inside the warehouse, taking his time with slow steps, checking every detail on the mistreated walls and floor. He rubs his arms quickly, trying to bring some warmth to his cold wet body. The jacket hadn't been all that helpful, as his shirt was as wet as a rock inside a lake, so were his pants.
The closet was the first and only thing calling his attention in there. There wasn't much to explore, not as much as those infinite corridors probably would have.

Taking the candle in his hands, Sam feels the tiny pleasure of a soft heat close to his skin; it was such a simple feeling, yet so nice and comforting. He approaches the closet and inspects its outside first, besides the marks time had provided for its wooden structure, there was nothing really unusual about it. No symbols carved on it and no half spelled names either.
With no more stalling, Sam grabs what was left of the handle and opens the double doors of the closet.

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Going faster than the girl, Dean runs through the same rain to the place on the right where he was meant to inspect. He reaches the door, big enough for a truck to come inside and gives his first try to open it, attempting to escape from the coldness of that storm.
His try was unsuccessful, the door was locked.
"Damn". He mumbles under his breath. A locked door was no reason to keep a Winchester locked outside. The gun was an effective measure to get it opened, but a gunshot could scare his brother, interrupt whatever he was checking as he would come running to see if Dean needed any help. It was a little extreme, though it would be funny to see Sam running fast, with his long legs through the muddy floor just to see Dean trying to open a simple door.

So he decided for old school, kicking the door violently. His first kick failed and the door didn't budge. The second kick came angrier, as Dean started feeling his bones freezing; he wanted to get inside no matter what. This time the door gave in a little with the sound of a crack. The third kick got the job done, the door opened with a burst.
Satisfied with his methods, Dean got inside the unknown place leaving the storm outside to freeze someone else's ass.

"Great". Was the first thing he could say as he took a general look from where he was standing. The lightening was in charge of doing the job a flashlight could do well. Bringing some brightness to a pitch black place. "A slaughter house. I knew I should have checked the left". He keeps mumbling, talking to himself, comforting his anxiety. He wasn't so happy about his choice anymore.
One single color was prevalent, decorating with different patterns, several parts of the walls, the dirty, disgusting floor, and even the ceiling: an old, smelly red. Coagulated blood.

Probably a forensics team would recognize those patterns. Blood spilled differently, depending on how the victims were hit…and he hoped those were just animals. The object that was used to kill the victim, it was all relevant.
Though Dean was a great liar, and proud of being so, he didn't really know a lot about forensics let alone be able to recognize those patterns. The only thing he knew for sure was; that several blood bathes had occurred in that place. For some reason, his guts said that not only animals had been killed there.
The putrid blood smell, was neither sweet or tempting, except perhaps, for a cold killer, thirsty for blood. It was a sick smell, which made Dean's stomach get upset once again. Taking a deep breath, he puts aside the throwing up feeling, and decides to do his job. There was a bet to be won and he was a professional…most times. Besides, he had been in disgusting places before, though he wasn't a huge fan of slaughter houses.

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Good thing there were no rats inside the closet. Just a huge army of cockroaches walking around through the other, interesting things Sam had found in there.
The closet seemed to have been the personal space of a teenage girl. A place where she'd hide her secrets and wishes. Things her mom wouldn't understand or be a drama queen about.
All teens felt that way, Sam understood that closet way too well. John and mainly Dean had always been too protective of him. He hardly had any personal space and walking was a way to stay alone, get some time off even from his big brother. Those days when both he and his dad pushed each others buttons, getting to their edges, he'd go out for a walk, to cool his head and keep himself from yelling more or taking his rage out on Dean. It was smothering. As Sam grew up, building his character, getting a stronger personality, the fights between him and John had become a ritual, happening more and more often. Dean usually got caught in the middle of it, trying to make them stop. Those fights made his blood boil. Deep inside, he already knew Sam would take off, or his dad would.

Inside the closet he had found a doll, old for sure, but well preserved, its conditions were almost perfect. The doll could represent the wish for eternal innocence for girls, take them back to their childhood, it was like a time machine.
Also inside the closet, he found a pink journal. Or diary like girls preferred to call it.
Not being able to contain his curiosity, Sam opens it. The diary was written with a delicate, capricious handwriting. The date went back, about 40 years ago. He starts reading it.

I've been very lonely lately. The farm is terrible, far from any human touch. All I have right now is my mom and she's always too busy taking care of the stupid animals and the corn field. I think the dog gets more attention than me.
I wish every night, that a stranger will need our help, and be forced to stop in our farm for assistance. It would be nice to talk to someone other than a few pages of a stupid diary. But for now, these pages are my best friends and a good listener.
I saw a shooting star before I went to bed last night, and got all excited about it. I wished really hard for a person to show up. A man to be more specific. I want to fall in love. I want to know what another person's skin against mine feels like. After all, I'm turning 17 tomorrow. My mom should stop treating me like a kid.
I have weird dreams at night when my mom pisses me off. I dream we are at the slaughter house, and I take out my anger on her. It feels good at first and I wake up sweating the next morning. Sweating, but not feeling guilty about my dream.

Sam looks at the doll, so peacefully placed on that spot, interrupting his reading for a few seconds. Perhaps he was wrong about this teenager girl. She wasn't exactly sweet, and innocence sure wasn't the right word to describe her either. She sure had issues. Loneliness didn't solve hatred issues; personal space wasn't exactly her problem.

Today is my birthday and I think my wish came true! Shooting stars are the best!
A young man, I believe he said he was 21, got stuck on the way home and had to ask for help in our farm. He's the most handsome man I've ever seen. His features really got my attention.
I could be happier though. It's my birthday and all he asks is when he'll be able to leave. I was blessed with a storm this afternoon. It was so heavy; the young boy wouldn't be able to leave any time soon.
The lack of attention he has been giving me is also pissing me off. My mom is doing all the talking! He's supposed to be my guest! I asked for him!
I don't want to hate him; after all we have just met. I don't want to hate my mom either. But there was a weird feeling growing inside of me. An unknown feeling I can't distinguish yet. I do know that the slaughter house has been quite tempting these days. I'm attracted by the weapons in there. They look so dangerous and exciting. I don't even care about the blood anymore as I've grown used to the smell. Jeez, I even miss the smell sometimes.

Sam closes the diary. He was smart enough to know what the twenty one-year-old-boy's fate had been… he wondered how long it took her, whoever the owner of the diary was, took to kill him. To discover she was growing up to become a killer with instincts.

TBC…

Again, thank you all so much! Hope to see everybody again!!

And I'm sooo sorry for taking this long to update. As usual I have a great excuse…two excuses actually…

WORK! I'm not on vacation anymore cries and I had a report to write and it took some of my time.

I started this chapter like 300 times!! But I wasn't happy with it, so I re write it until it looked like what I wanted.

Hope the waiting was worth it! Let me know!! Leave a review please :)

And have a great weekend!!!