Chapter 3's up! Don't be shy to write a review. I know you are many to have read the previous chapters, which is absolutely fabulous by the way!

Dean's POV

"Wakey wakey sleepy head." I awoke to the sound of a really dorky voice talking down to me like I was five. I soon realised it was just Sam acting stupid. I yawned, meanwhile refusing to move a muscle, let alone open my eyes. I was laying way too comfortable. Most people lie uncomfortable on their stomach. I'd like to believe I'm not most people. I tighten my hold on my pillow, nuzzling my head into it. I feel Sam's impatience growing by the second. Quite amusing really.

"What time is it?" I ask him.

"Time for you to get up. Seven thirty. Come on, get up."

"Seven thirty? Sammy, you do realise this is a Saturday? And I am not getting out of bed."

"Fine. Than in that case you leave me no choice."

The air suddenly feels a lot colder when Sam removes my sheets. Like that's gonna get me out of bed. Pff... I feel a thug at my pillow. Oh no Sam, you wouldn't! I try pulling it back to me, ending up on the floor along with my pillow. I stay there, lying, just to annoy him a little more, with success. He sighs and then I hear ... a chuckle?

"Fine Dean. Whatever. I stumbled on this article this morning about a man dying in these freaky circumstances. I thought we could check it out. But if you rather do nothing on one of our last days, then I'm cool with it." I open my eyes.

"Okay, okay. But I'l taking a shower first. Tell me more about it when we have breakfast." After that statement, I run my way to the shower.

Sam's POV

We picked out this little cafe just a mile away from our motel. It's very cosy inside, the walls are paint in these warm reddish colors and there are pillows just about everywhere. We seated ourselves in a corner opposite the counter. Apparantly it didn't go unnoticed by the barmaid. She's heading in our direction, exchanging looks with Dean. Why does my brother have to be such a womanizer?

"Hi there, fellas. My name is Diane." She laid it on thick with her Texan accent.

"Let me guess: you guys are new in town. So what can I get you?" Dean choses to stare a little longer. I place my order. "I'll have pancakes with extra syrup and a coffee please, with sugar and milk."

"Noted sweetheart. And what can I get for you, handsome?"

"I'll have waffles with chocolate and additional whipped cream. And a coffee too, straight black. Thank you."

"No, thank you. Orders're coming right up." She winked at him and then she took off.

"What's with the voice, Dean? I'll have waffles with chocolate..."

He gives me a smack on the head. I probably had that one coming.

"Oh now I get it. Does little Sammy have his periods?"

"Ha ha. Real funny! So you still want to hear about this article?"

"Yeah, I do." I turn my laptop on, search for the article and turn my laptop towards him so that he can read it."

"Sammy, it'll take less time if you'd just tell me what it says.

"Okay, lazy ass." I say that last part softer.

"What's that Sammy?"

"Uh, nothing. Okay, so this guy, a certain James Masters, was found dead on the floor by his sixteen-year old daughter. She was next door with a bunch of friends the whole time. None of them heard anything."

"Sam, that makes it strange, not freaky strange."

"Wait, there's more. Just here me out. This James' eyes were missing like they'd been ejected from his head or something. He was found lying on the bathroom floor. According to this article, the police found no signs of breaking in, neither in the house nor the bathroom. So what do you say: is this something for us?"

"Perhaps. There's only one way to find out. We'll pay the house a little visit, after breakfast."

"There's no doubt. The EFM-meter went wild in there. We're dealing with a demon: Bloody Mary. I'm gonna do some research to find out how we can get rid of her."

Just as I said that, I noticed Dean facing a house two houses further in the street. He was looking at it attently. Only thing is that there's absolutely nothing to see. Across the street two cops are parading. It's obvious they're on patrol. I come to stand next to Dean.

"Watcha looking at?" I notice Dean's got the collar of his jacket pulled up so it covers half his face. Seems to me like he's hiding.

"Dean, there's no need hiding for those cops. Their presence's got nothig to do with the Masters' house." He faces me.

"I know, Sammy. I' just not too fond of cops. Let's go back to the motel."

Just across the street the cops are talking.

"The blonde with the leather jacket, does he seem familiar to you?"

"I don't know. Why don't we go through the files, shall we? If he did something, he should be in there."

"Yeah."

"Bingo!"

"Bingo?!!"

"Yeah, bingo, Dean! Should I shout yachtzee instead?

"No, it's just... Dude! Bingo's for old people!"

"It's not like I'm playing bingo! And they like to be referred to as the... professionally no longer active... class. Ha! Pfff, whatever.

So there's not one story, but there are different versions. Some believe she's the virgin Mary, others believe it was just a woman who died in a car crash. Yet another story says she was a witch who was burned on a woodpile. The myth goes that people who are responsable for another's death have to call her name three times in front of a mirror, preferably a bathroom mirror."

"A bathroom mirror?"

"Hey, I didn't make that up. It's just what the myth says. In the Masters' case, Celine called for her, except she didn't have death on her conscience. Her father did, however. That's why he died."

"If what you say is true, than how do we stop her?", Dean asked me.

"Well, let's see. What do we know about mirrors, Dean? Mirrors were once considered as an opening to other worlds, like a passage. Mirrors are the line between the living and he death." Dean continued for me.

"So we have to call her up and break the mirror the moment she appears, right?"

"Exactly. But that ain't gonna be easy. And we can't just do this on any mirror. We need hers, we need Mary's mirror. We'll never find that mirror."

Dean interrupted me just as I was gonna start whining.

"The Mirror Museum! Haven't you seen that museum the first day we got here? We drove by the place. If it should be anywhere, I'd bet all my money it's in there."

"Money? What money? Ooh, you mean all those fake credit cards you have."

"Hey! We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for those fake credit cards. So are you done complaining, mylady?"

He bowed to me with that cocky smile plastered all over his face. I smiled back.

"It's nice you know your place, my humble servant."

His smile made place for his 'you-got-me-there'- face.

Dean's POV

I was right, Mary's mirror was here. Ha! Allmighty Dean. Bend all for your new leader. There was still a problem, however. The person in front of the mirror needs to have death on his conscience. Sam was momentarily on the lookout. We wouldn't want anyone interferring our little ceremony here.

By this time all mirrors had been broken but hers. I took a stand in front of the mirror.

"Bloody Mary... Bloody Mary... Bloody Mary."

I waited.

Nothing.

How's that possible?

Suddenly I cannot move or see anything any longer. I let go my hammer, no longer in control of my hands. God, I hope Sammy heard that!

"S...A...M..." I cannot see her, but I'm pretty sure she's no beauty. Butugly I bet! I feel my blood rising to my head, more exactly to my eyes.

Sammy I'm sooo scared. H...E...L...P... Where are you Sammy?

"Dean?" I hear him calling but I can't see.

"Dean!" Sam comes running towards my direction, trying to distract Mary with a piece of one of the broken mirrors. It seems to be working. I give her a kick sending her back in the mirror and Sam smashes it into a thousand peaces. And that's how we got her. As soon as she's gone, my vision comes back. I stretch my hand to Sammy.

"Samuel."

"Samuel? Dean, have you been using?" I laugh.

"I've never been so glad to see you!"

Sam gives me a hug and pulls me up.

"Come on, time to head back to the motel. You, my friend, need to freshen up."

Good old Sammy.

Sam's POV

After showering, we realised it was already half past ten PM and we still hadn't eaten.

"Come on, Dean. I'm dying here."

"If you ask me, skipping a meal wouldn't do you harm."

I can't believe this! "Are you calling me fat?! 'Cause if you are, you are definitely not the appropriate person to tell me that."

"Oh no you didn't."

"Hell yeah I did." We took our fighting positions, I took a lunge at him giving him a little smack on the head.

"Aw! That hurts... you bitch."

We both start laughing at that. I never thought acting like women could be so fun. I'm already starting to look at them very differently.

"Come on, let's go to 'Jean's Diner'. We can go to the bar next to it afterwards."

Food was delicious. Now we were taking some drinks at a place called 'House of booze'. What a genius that inventor must have been! Dean found himself, like always, in the presence of some female company. Rosalita for strangers, Rosy for perverts, womanizers and male prostitutes.

"So Roooosy, he he, you like cars?"

Oh please. This is making me sick.

"Hi handsome. The name's Rochelle. And you are...?"

"Sam, the name's Sam. And what a pretty name you have if I may say so."

"You certainly may." Rochelle, a red-haired bimbo, came out of nowhere and was, if you'd ask me, a tiny bit drunk. But having her bending over the bar got me a most charming view on her clevage. Jeez Sam, what are you thinking! You're not like that. I've been hanging 'round Dean for too long.

I take another look at Dean's situation, finding him looking into the distance. I follow his eyes to see what he's looking at. My eyes come to rest on policemen getting out of their car. Dean almost immediately turns his head. I see him whispering something into Rosalita's ear. She simply nods. He turns to me and informs me he's tired and is heading back to the motel. Dean tired? Possible. Dean leaving Rosalita here? Uh uh, something's not right. And I bet it's got something to do with those cops standing outside.

"Sam?" I forgot about her.

"Rochelle. Listen, I think you're really beautiful, charming and all, but truth is... I already have a girlfriend back at home. So thank you, but no thank you."

She starts crying. I put my hand on hers as a comforting gesture. All of a sudden this huge man walks up to us.

"Hey, what's going on here? What are you doing with my girlfriend?"

What? "Your girl..."

"Yeah, that's right. Let's take this outside."

He's about to drag me along when he spots the cops.

"We'll take the back", he informs the bartender.

"Hey, I don't want trouble with the police", the bartender replies.

Next thing I know, I'm being dragged to a little dark alley in the back.

Dean, where are you when I need you? After undergoing some serious beat-up and throwing some punches back (you know, for my pride), I make my way back to the motel.

What a crappy day! Dean'd better not lie to me anymore. I'm gonna find out why he's running from the cops tonight.

Dean's POV

I can't keep running forever. What am I gonna tell Sammy? It's obvious he's not buying my lies anymore. I need to tell him.

"Dean!" Sam's voice sounds edgier than usual. The door opens with a thud. The sight I'm greeted with is not what I was expecting: Sam, beaten up and covered in dirt.

"Sammy, what...?"

I never get to finish my sentence.

"Boyfriend... not... important. I want some fu**ing answers! You... are not tired. You are running from the cops. And don't you lie to me!" That sounds fair.

"Okay Sammy, no more lies. And you are right, I am running from them."

Sam's POV

"Good. I mean... argh you know! Earlier today, when you called Mary... Oh my God! How come you were able to call her?"

I wait for his reaction. Not a sound. I look up. The shock that can be read on his face says more than a thousand words.

"How?"

End of this chapter! I thought I'd end with a cliffhanger, to say it in official terms.

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