Disclaimer: Can I own them now? Darn! Can I at least play with them for a while?

Chapter Two

"We can't…"

"It's not right…"

"What choice do we have?!"

"There must be another way…"

"You want to wait till it comes for Justin? Or Kevin or Connor? It's only a matter of time!"

"They don't even know what's happening!"

Hugh Mitchell stood in the corner of the small meeting hall observing his friends and neighbors in their heated debate. That was the beauty and curse of small town life: word traveled fast. And word was a young boy named Sam had come to town quite possibly to save them from a seemingly never-ending reign of terror and death.

Sixteen boys. That's how many had gone missing and found dead these past six years. And Hugh had known every single one of them. Being the unofficial town facilitator – the young girls often called him Taylor Dosey (though he'd seen that Gilmore show and thought he could kick that crotchety old man's ass to the next county) – he knew just about everyone in town. And he'd had to watch families mourn sons, brothers, friends, without being able to offer a single plausible explanation for how healthy pre-teen boys could just disappear then reappear down by the lake dead and frozen solid. It was the devil's work, to be sure. And he vowed to put an end to it. But first he made sure to send his son Travis off to live with his mother and her new husband in Seattle. Damn thing wasn't gonna get his boy.

But there was hope now. This Sam kid could be the one the damn thing was searching for, trying to claim. And if it meant going against the grain and doing the wrong thing to spare his people any more pain, then so be it. But right now he had a few things to deal with.

"Hugh, please, you have to see reason here," pleaded Alice Timberman, a kindly woman of 63 who was the heart of their community. "We cannot sacrifice that boy! It's not God's way…"

"God's way?" growled Hugh, coming to the center of the room with a thunderous stride. "Was it God's way when your nephew's boy was taken? Was it God's way when Nancy lost Keith? Or when Stuart went mad searching for Billy only to find him at the water's edge where they'd fished and swam only days before? Tell me, Alice, was it?"

Alice's eyes, filled with tears and despair, turned downward. She had no answer for why this was happening to her friends – her family. She'd heard the stories, knew what people suspected and speculated about. But it couldn't be true. Ghosts didn't really exist. And Hattie couldn't possibly have…

But Alice had no answer to give. She raised her eyes to meet those of her community. All shone with the same sadness and hesitancy, but ultimately silent agreement about what would be done. What they felt had to be done to stop the madness. Stop the killing.

Heaven help them all.

SNSNSN

Despite always being the new kid and the awkwardness that ensued, Sam always harbored a little excitement for the first day of school. He couldn't help it. At school he was in his element. Learning was something he excelled at.

But this first day was different. Sam had a horrible dread in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't slept very well, his mind constantly seeing stranger upon stranger staring at him. Thankfully they hadn't needed to go to the lobby upon their return to the motel last night. And even better, he knew John would find them their own place today. Heck, he already had a lead, funny enough from the motel manager. Pretty convenient, Sam had thought to himself. He'd wanted to share his concerns with Dean but was afraid his older brother would tell him he was being such a girl and to quit worrying about everything.

It's not that he didn't think Dean cared. He knew that if Sam were truly scared, Dean would drop the bravado, put his arm around his shoulder and give him a reassuring shake with his usual "nothing bad's gonna happen to you while I'm around." Sam had no reason to doubt it now, but sucked up his qualms anyway. For now.

SNSNSN

John dropped the boys off infront of the junior high. The junior high and high schools were just next to each other and they agreed to meet back in front after school for John to pick them up. John knew Dean would take time during the day to scope out the schoolyard, study the surrounding area and all its corners, backways and escape routes so he could confidently get Sam safely to and from school from the next day on. Standard operating procedure. And Dean had it down pat.

When Sam got to his homeroom, three things happened instantly. One, the teacher nearly spat out her coffee upon seeing him (no surprise there, he was getting used to it). Two, all the kids, who a second before had been whooping it up with the latest gossip, jokes and nonsensical chit-chat, suddenly hushed and stared at him, mouths agog. Again no surprise, but nevertheless unnerving as hell. And three – the classroom had exactly two boys in it. Two out of 22 students. The rest were girls. All quiet. All staring at him.

"Alright class, settle down now," the teacher stated. Settle down? Who was she kidding? You could hear a frigging mouse's tear hit the ground in the silence! "Please welcome our new student, Sam Winchester."

She hadn't had to look at a registration card or a memo, just knew his name right off, like she'd been expecting him. That hadn't happened much before. In other schools he'd been lucky if the teacher had learned his name before they moved on again.

Sam began heading toward an empty seat near the back just as one of the boys started waving at him to head his way. As he sat, the boy leaned over, whispering "Dude, you have NO idea how glad I am to see you!"

SNSNSN

The boy, who Sam learned was named David Soboti, latched onto Sam and corralled him at lunch to two tables that beheld what was apparently the entire male youth population of the school – 11 boys. It would seem this school had its share of typical girls' cliques – the pretty, popular ones, the bookworms, the Goths, etc. – but the boys seemed to stick together regardless of size, shape, ethnicity or class stature. It was unusual to say the least seeing your standard issue nerd sitting with the class jock. And they welcomed Sam right away. Another rarity.

"So Winchester, is it?" asked Kurt (jock-boy) "How long you been in town?"

"Just got hear yesterday, actually," said Sam. "My dad didn't want me falling behind in my schoolwork so he got me in here right away."

"That sucks," Kurt with a huff. "Maybe you should think about moving on out again before you settle in."

Hmm, so much for the warm welcome, Sam thought.

"Smooth, Kurt," said another boy, Jason. "What he means is, this isn't exactly the ideal place to be if you're a guy. I mean, you had to have noticed our significantly small numbers."

"Hard to miss," Sam said with a shrug.

"Look, don't try and sugarcoat it, man," said Kurt, leaning in. "Guys our age have a funny way of ending up dead in our little burg. That's why my dad's getting us out as soon as he locks in his new job. If I were you, Winchester, I'd get the hell out before the old hag notices you've arrived."

"Old hag?" asked Sam. Now we were getting somewhere.

"Oh, it's our own little treasured ghost story," said David.

"That happens to be totally true!" broke in Kurt.

"Nobody has actually seen her, Kurt," said another boy, Lucas.

"So what, the human popsicles with nuts are just naturally occurring, is that it?"

"Why don't you just tell him the story, David," said Terry, the nerd.

Just as David was about to begin the tale, the principal, Mr. Cornig, came over and told Sam there was some paperwork he needed to fill out, check in with the school nurse for allergy alerts, etc. The story would have to wait.

SNSNSN

As expected, John was sitting in the Impala out in front of the school when Sam came out. Climbing into the back seat, he watched John twist around and ask his youngest how his first day went.

"It was okay," Sam said. The day had been pretty uneventful, though he really wanted to hear David's ghost story. "Weird thing though. You would not believe how many.."

"Chicks!" At that moment Dean had bounded into the car with a ridiculous grin on his face. "Oh man! This place is chick heaven!! Wall-to-wall, I'm not friggin kidding. Hell, even geek boy here should be able to hook up with little effort, no puppy dog eyes required!"

Sam sighed and slunk back into the seat. Leave it to Dean to see only the beauty in being oddly, almost ridiculously outnumbered by girls. As John drove them to their new home and as Dean went on and on about the "eye candy" with an occasional chuckle from his dad, Sam swore his eyes were gonna roll right out of his head.

SNSNSN

His head was pounding. As he fought to open his eyes, finding a big blur and not much else, he could smell some kind of pungent fragrance in the room, like a woman who has put on way to much perfume. Slowly his vision came into focus and he began to take in his surroundings, none of which he recognized.

He was in a bedroom, a boy's bedroom, but definitely not his own. The walls had posters of baseball players, U2 and one of Knight Rider. There were lots of toy models and sports equipment, cluttered but nothing out of place. Looked like the room had been straightened up fairly recently.

He climbed from the bed and went to the door, surprised but thankful to find it unlocked. He carefully opened it and walked slowly down the hallway. The walls were covered with photographs, both black and white and color. Many looked to be family photos, but he didn't know anyone in them.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear humming coming from down below and could smell something being cooked. He was thankful the stairs were carpeted so he could make his way down them quietly. At the bottom he found a parlor off to the left, filled with antique furniture, numerous collectible figurines and a roaring fire in the fireplace. To the right, he found a dining room complete with a table set for two. Beyond that he assumed was the kitchen door, which to his relief was closed.

He looked back to the parlor and the front door just next to it. He quietly crept up and tried unlocking it but it wouldn't budge. He looked out the window at the yard and saw nothing, no lights, no cars, nothing remotely close that could offer help.

Again looking to the parlor, he saw a phone on an end table and made his way over to it. Picking it up, he heard no dial tone.

Just then, a melodic voice called out from the kitchen.

"Sweetie? Dinner's almost ready. Come and wash up and help me with the salad."

He was completely freaked now. He did not know that voice. He did not know this house. He had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there or how to leave. He just wanted out.

The kitchen door swung open and a woman in an apron wiping her hands with a dishtowel came over to him.

"Didn't you hear me, honey? Did you wash your hands?"

He was speechless. Couldn't find his voice even if he tried. All he wanted to do was run but his feet were stuck to the floor.

"You feeling okay, baby?" she cooed as she wiped his brow. "Well, to bed early with you tonight. Can't have my darling boy coming down with the flu, what with hockey tryouts coming up."

He didn't play hockey. Couldn't skate a lick.

"You know, you look more and more like your father every day, God rest his soul."

But his dad was still alive. And everyone said he favored his mother.

"Go on now, Tommy. Go get washed up, scoot!"

Finally, he found his voice.

"But my name is David."

TBC