Chapter 7

It had been a little over an hour since Sam had gently removed his brother's so-called "monkey suit" and replaced it with some well-worn sweat pants and a Metallica t-shirt. He decided to change into more casual clothes himself when Dean had told him rather pointedly that he looked like a "fucking undertaker". Dean had used up all of his energy trying to change his own clothes and reluctantly allowed Sam to help. The younger Winchester knew it wasn't easy for his brother to accept help, especially with such a basic chore. So, coupled with Dean's raging headache, and a possible poisoning, he didn't blame his brother for being surly.

Sam hesitated to leave Dean's side, but he needed to find some answers from Judith and Kendall. He was worried. His brother was obviously more than intoxicated. Dean's fever wasn't rising, but it was persistent, and his color hadn't improved. What scared Sam more than anything, though, was seeing his brother in pain. Dean couldn't open his eyes for long because the light, which Sam had dimmed, intensified his headache. When he did open his eyes, his face contorted in pain. Sam knew that his older brother must be hurting badly, because even when they had faced any number of other life-threatening situations, his brother always shook it off and hid his pain, both the physical and emotional kind. Dean had already cheated death twice, and Sam felt that same anguish return as he thought back to a time when he nearly lost his brother and how achingly familiar it felt as he stood over his brother's bed again.

Dean absently clicked the remote control. His eyes remained fixed on the small TV screen as his brother entered the room and stood at the foot of his hospital bed.

"Do you ever actually watch daytime TV? It's terrible."

Sam sighed heavily, knowing that Dean was delaying the inevitable conversation about his health.

"I talked to your doctor."

Dean ignored Sam's statement. "That fabric softener teddy bear – ooh, I'm going to hunt that little bitch down."

"Dean." Sam's soft plea finally elicited a response from the older Winchester.

"Yeah." He turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the bed. "All right," he said finally looking up at Sam. "Well, it looks like you're going to leave town without me."

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to leave you here." Sam's eyes were moist with unshed tears.

"Hey, you better take care of that car, or I swear, I'll haunt your ass."

"I don't think that's funny."

"Ah come on, it's a little funny."

On the verge of tears, Sam didn't say anything for a moment and looked away.

"Look Sammy, what can I say, man? It's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

"Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options."

"What options? Burial or cremation?'

Sam looked at his brother with disgust and shook his head.

"I know it's not easy, I'm going to die, and you can't stop it."

Sam's face took on a veil of determination and he nodded his head. "Watch me."

The younger Winchester sat on the edge of the bed and watched his brother sleep. Dean looked very young and vulnerable, and Sam had an overwhelming urge to protect him. To do that, he had to find out what had happened. Reluctantly, he stood up from the bedside and took in a calming breath, his face etched with concern.

"Hey Dean, I need to find out what's going on around here. I'm not going to be gone for long. I'll get you something more for the pain if I can." Sam spoke softly and watched his brother a few seconds longer and then left to find Judith.

Dean's eyes fluttered open briefly as the door closed.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was weak, his throat dry. With his vision still blurred, Dean could not make out the details of his surroundings. He couldn't clearly see the apparition which appeared near his bed; Dean could only see large orbs of lights dance across his limited vision. The wavering translucent figure looked down at the young hunter and smiled slightly. Dean could hear the unfamiliar voice in his mind again.

You will help me destroy the umThakati. I have been terrorized all these years by my ancestor. Soon, you will be the one to set me free.

…….

Judith and Kendall were still down in the cellar, trying to decide how they would deal with the young CDC agents, when they heard it. Rhythmic drumming was coming from somewhere near the cellar, deep within the castle. They had heard it before, on the night of the last deaths. They both sat stock-still as they listened, eyes wide and breath held as they waited. Judith saw the latch on the heavy wooden door move. Gasping, she grabbed her husband's wrist, whispering fiercely as her grip tightened.

"He's here again! Kendall, what can we do?"

Sam opened the heavy cellar door and carefully peered inside to find the Conroys staring his way, looking like deer caught in headlights.

"Mr. and Mrs. Conroy? What's going on here? You two seem a little spooked."

Judith sighed in relief. "Oh, young man, you just scared us. We didn't expect anyone else to come down here."

Sam scrutinized the couple, noticing that Kendall was uncharacteristically quiet. He frowned slightly and gave the couple a rueful smile. "Listen, I'm just going to be honest here. I think you two are hiding something. Dean is really sick, so if you know what's wrong with him, you need to tell me now. Believe me, if you've gotten yourselves into some kind of trouble, we can help."

"What?" Judith shook her head and spoke quickly. "No, we-we aren't in any trouble, Mr. Waters. And I don't know why your friend is sick, but it has nothing to do with us."

Kendall cleared his throat. "Judith, it's no use. We are in way over our heads here. The truth is Mr. Waters; something weird is going on here. Actually, weird doesn't even cover it." The innkeeper waved his hand in the air. "Do you hear that?"

Sam suddenly noticed the subtle drumming sound that seemed to come from within the walls. "Yeah, what's up with that?"

"We're not sure, but it happened the night of the deaths, too."

Sam moved around the cellar, attempting to find the source of the drumming. He stopped in front of a large whiskey barrel. "Kendall, is this barrel empty?"

"Yeah, we cleaned that one out about a month ago. Come to think of it, that was one of the best batches of scotch I ever drank. Dean and I finished off the last bottle this evening."

"Do you have an axe down here?" Sam asked, as he looked around the cavernous room.

"What? Why?"

"An axe, Kendall, I need to open this barrel."

The older man frowned. "Uhh, I think there's one in the supply room down that hall. I'll get it."

Sam watched the innkeeper leave to retrieve the axe and turned to face Judith.

"I need to know what's wrong with Dean, Judith. I'm not going to give up until I find out, so you may as well tell me what you know." Sam could barely keep the anger from his voice, but he didn't want to scare the woman any more than she already was.

"I told you, I don't know." She shook her head.

The drumming started to grow louder and the woman panicked, whimpering. Sam reached for her arm to try to calm her and she pulled away, backing towards the door.

"Judith, I can help you if you level with me."

"No, he's here again. There will be more deaths!" The woman ran from the room, leaving Sam waiting for Kendall and the axe. At her words, Sam felt his stomach clench with fear that the next victim could be Dean. He wanted to get back to him. Come on Kendall, where's that damned axe? What the hell is going on here?

The drumming grew louder. Kendall came bounding into the room and shoved the axe into Sam's hand. He backed away from Sam and the barrel, looking nearly as scared as his wife. Sam didn't have time to question the man. He swung the axe down hard on the oak barrel, splitting the top. It took several more strikes before the barrel fell apart and the drumming ceased. Breathing hard, Sam dropped the axe on the concrete floor and peered inside the mangled wood container. He looked away as the stench overtook him and he nearly gagged. Inside lay human remains, perfectly preserved viscera and a nearly intact skeleton. Some of the skin was even still attached to the bones. Sam thought he would be sick as his stomach roiled from the heinous discovery.

"God, Kendall, did you know about this?" Sam's voice was thick with emotion as he grabbed the innkeeper and pulled him to the opening of what was left of the barrel, forcing him to look at the human remains floating in the last remnants of whiskey. "You've been drinking this! You served this to – to your guests." To my brother, you son of a bitch!

Kendall gagged and jerked away from Sam's grasp in time to vomit the contents of his stomach on the floor nearby. The young hunter was furious. He had no doubt now that it could be a vengeful spirit at work. Now he just needed to figure out how it was manifesting. And how it was affecting Dean. Sam's thoughts were interrupted and his heart stopped as a gut wrenching scream pierced the quiet of the castle. It came from upstairs. Judith was screaming uncontrollably. Dean!