This chapter is dedicated to Courters. This time you really can say I put you in my story. Don't hate my for it.
Chapter 3
The tall Jensen house loomed ominously before the two brothers. Now that police no longer littered the front lawn, the grandeur of the old mansion was evident. Anyone could see that this place had once been the envy of the entire town. However, the years of neglect had taken its toll. The once magnificent manor was now an empty shell. Its windows, which once boasted the brilliance inside, were now dark and glaring down at onlookers. ………….(more detail)
Sam starred at the house, and then back at dean in confusion. "What are we doing here?" he asked.
"Waiting for dark," Dean replied simply. He sat in the driver's side of the jet black Impala, a sup of coffee in his hand. He sipped it quietly, never taking his eyes off the house.
"So we're going in blind?" Sam asked, somewhat concerned.
Dean didn't answer, he just took another sip of his black coffee and continued looking up at the house.
"Don't you want to at least learn more about what we're going in after?" Sam asked.
"That's what I plan on doing," Dean answered.
The sun began to set, giving everything a red-orange glow to it and causing the surrounding trees to cast long shadows on the house, giving it a menacing look.
Dean downed the last of his coffee and stepped out of the Impala, followed by Sam, to the trunk. He shifted through the truck's contents until he had what he was looking for. He pocketed a small home-made EMF detector and threw a handheld camcorder at his brother. He then picked up his trusty sawed-off shotgun and began filling it with rock salt. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam did the same.
"So, are you going to tell me what Todd said?" Sam asked once his own gun was loaded and cocked.
"I'm still not sure whether or not I believe him." Dean muttered.
"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten him wasted before you started questioning him," Sam scolded. "Not everyone has your tolerance."
Dean smirked, "They should be so lucky," he said, walking up to the front door of the old mansion, which was dean bolted.
Sam brushed aside Dean and got out a set of tools he had in his pocket to pick the lock. Dean gave him a sideways glance before letting him pass. As Sam attempted to outsmart the deadbolt, Dean made his way to the car. Sam bit his lip as he tinkered with the lock to no avail. Suddenly, Dean knocked his bother out of the way. Sam looked up just in time to see him prying the door open with a crowbar he had apparently retrieved from the trunk.
The door swung open, causing Dean to smirk as he walked through the front door.
Inside, the old house was dark and sinister. The large entry room was void of all furniture, giving it a vast and cold feeling. It had obviously withstood a fire at some point because burn marks charred the wall and floor. The floorboards were creaky and rotting, probably from stagnant water collecting there over time. An old staircase stood to the left of the room, next to a hallway that reveled several other rooms.
Dean shone a flashlight in the house, surveying the room. He looked over at Sam, who was doing the same.
"I'll take upstairs, you take downstairs," he instructed his brother. Sam nodded and disappeared down the hallway.
Dean began ascending the staircase cautiously, checking for rotted boards that could give way under him. Once he was at the top, he used his flashlight to illuminate his way. From was he could see, the upstairs was much different from the downstairs. The fire that had devastated the lower half of the house had apparently not reached the second story. It was littered with antique furniture strategically placed in order to maximize the space of the old room. Of course, time had taken its toll on the place. The furniture was molding and covered in dust, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the wallpaper was torn and peeling off the walls.
Positioning the flashlight between his ear and shoulder, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the EMF reader. The tiny device didn't make a sound as he searched for a spike somewhere in the room. Dean could see why the locals regarded this place as haunted, but so far he didn't see anything supernatural about it. He continued looking through the rooms, each as normal, though a bit decayed looking, as the last. He heaved a sigh and made his way downstairs. As he did, he spotted his brother standing at the foot of the staircase. Sam looked as exasperated as dean felt.
"So what do you think Sammy?" he asked, "Are your Spidey-Senses tingling?"
Sam rolled his eyes, "I didn't find anything." he stated, holding up the camcorder as evidence. "No orbs, no figures, nothing. What about you?" he asked.
Dean shook his head, "I think it's a bust. I didn't get anything on EMF." Lugging the shotgun over his shoulder, Dean led the way back to the car.
"So do you think Todd was lying?"
"Looks like it." Dean said. He slid into the driver's seat as Sam slammed the trunk closed. Dean gave one last look at the house before pealing out.
An icy wind blew through the trees surrounding the old house, causing several leaves to fall on the ground, covering a small device left behind. A high pitched beeping noise blared through the headphones attached to it, but no one was around to hear it. It gave one last squeal before sparks erupted and the sound died.
The Brownwood Public Library was nearly deserted. The librarian, a young woman who's name tag read "Courtney Hammond" sat down several books on local folklore on the round table where the two mysterious men were seated, earning her a warm smile from the one who had introduced himself as Dean. She blushed furiously and in a nervous gesture, adjusted her thick framed glasses.
"So you two are doing a report on local legends?" she asked, amazed at her ability to form sentences with Dean's gaze on her.
Dean cocked a half smile, "Yeah, we're history majors up at Howard Payne University."
"I love history!" Courtney quipped, attempting to give him a flirty look, but ending up making herself look drowsy in the process.
Dean gave a chuckle and tossed a glace at the other guy he was with, whose nose was buried in a book on haunted houses located in Texas.
"So, do you know anything about that old Jensen house?" Dean asked, once it was obvious his companion was unresponsive.
Courtney's eyes lit up. She beamed at Dean and adjusted her glasses once more. "If you two are history majors, you'll definitely have to check that place out."
"Why is that?" Dean asked coyly.
Courtney smirked, loving every second of the attention she was receiving from this drop dead gorgeous man. "Because of the murders." she stated, forcing her voice to sound mater-of-fact.
"Murders?" the other man asked, looking up from his book for the first time.
Courtney's smile widened at the other guy's interest. "They never really proved it, but the story is that someone broke into the house in the middle of the night and murdered Old Lady Jensen. Then, they lit the place on fire."
The two men exchanged a glace that Courtney didn't quite catch.
"Anyway," she continued, "They say she haunts the place now, looking for her children to save them from the fire."
"What happened to the children?" dean asked
Courtney sighed dramatically, "No one knows. The police never found their remains in the house, and no one ever heard from them after that night." She watched Dean closely, but he didn't give much of a reaction. She guessed that he watched a lot of horror movies.
"I think there's an article about it around here somewhere." she said eagerly
"Wow. If you could find us an article on that, we could use that for our paper." dean said, giving the young librarian a dreamy smile.
Courtney could feel her knees turn to jelly as nodded furiously, unable to make any other sound but high pitched squeak as she turned on her heel and practically sprinted to the back, in search of the newspaper article.
One the bouncy librarian was gone, dean turned to his brother, a cocky grin on his face, "If all librarians were like her in high school, I might have read a book or two." he said.
Sam laughed, "The only book you read was Playboy."
"It's better than being a nerd, like you," Dean said indignantly.
Sam rolled his eyes and continued reading
Dean laughed for a second, but then became serious. "So, Nerd Boy, it looks like there's a violent history attached to the house. Think it might be enough to cause a haunting?" he asked.
Sam thought for a second, "A murder like that could cause a vengeful spirit to attach itself to the place." He closed the book he was flipping through and sat up straight in his chair, "But there should've been somethingon EMF if the place were haunted.
"I'm telling you, I didn't get so much as a beep on EMF. The place was clean."
"That's weird," Same said thoughtfully.
"What? Did you find something?" Dean leaned over to get a closer look at the book his brother had been reading.
Sam shrugged him away, "No, not that."
"What then?" Dean asked, getting annoyed.
"Something should've shown up on the EMF meter. Even if there wasn't any paranormal activity. There were power lines not to far from the place and even the electrical wiring would have interfered at least somewhat. Maybe your EMF meter is broken."
Dean folded his arms indignantly, "There is nothing wrong with my EMF meter, I made it myself."
"That's my point," Sam said under his breath.
Dean got up from the chair he had been occupying and grabbed his duffle bag, putting it on the table.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Sam demanded in a fierce whisper, looking around frantically to see if anyone noticed Dean's sudden gesture.
"Proving that there's nothing wrong with the EMP meter." Dean said, digging through the bag's contents.
"In case you haven't noticed," Same said, also getting up from his seat, in case anyone decided to choose now to notice the two of them. "We're in a public place, and pulling out a bunch of demon hunting equipment might not be the most brilliant idea right now."
"It's not here," Dean said, looking up from the duffel bag.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"What do you mean 'what do I mean'? I mean it's not here. I think I left it at the Jensen place."
"How could you be--" Sam began, but was interrupted by the return of the bubbly librarian, who was carrying a stack of old newspapers.
"you two are in luck!" she said, putting the heap on the table, causing a cloud of dust to fly up around them and making her nose tickle. She held in a sneeze, determined no to screw up what she had going so far with Dean. "Not only did I find the article on Old Lady Jensen, but I also found three more articles on the Jensen place!" she exclaimed proudly.
"Wow, that's great Caitlin," dean said, picking up the duffel bag he had placed on the table.
"It's Courtney," she corrected.
"Right, that what I said." He picked up the stack of newspapers she had placed on the table, "You don't mind if we barrow these, do you? We're kind of in a hurry."
Courtney's smile faded, "Oh, um I guess not. I mean if you have to go…" she said, hoping desperately that he would stick around longer and racking her brain for some flirty gesture or phrase that would make him want to stay. Nothing.
He flashed her that devastatingly sexy smile and put the papers into the duffel bag. "Thanks, Casey," he said as he and his companion rushed toward the exit.
"It's Courtney." she said to no one in particular. She watched as the two of them hurried past the many rows of books and people studying for finals and catching up on their favorite fiction books without a word to each other or anyone else as if they were on some kind of mission. She sighed longingly as they passed through the automatic doors, praying that they would return. And, once they were no where in sight, Courtney sneezed.
It was once again just before sunset at the Jensen house. The sun casting an unearthly orange glow on everything it could still reach in its weakening state. Once again the trees that surrounded the old place cast larger-than-life shadows that looked like they belonged in some 1950's horror flick than in the quiet town of Brownwood, Texas. In fact, everything about the Jensen place looked as it had the previous night, including the black Impala that sat outside of it.
However, there was one thing different about his night. This particular night, Becca Monroe had finally had it with being constantly camped out in her room, refusing to leave for fear that something would come for her. This night, she had decided to prove to herself once and for all that nothing sinister was in the Jensen house, that her best friend had merely been the victim of relationship abuse and nothing more. Which is why, on this night, she was looking out at the old manor from the safety of a tall oak tree a few yards away.
"Do you see it?" Sam called to Dean, who was scouring the front yard for his missing EMF meter.
"No, no yet," dean answered. He kicked over a fallen tree limb that was in his ways and wished he had realized the instrument was missing before it had started to get dark. The long shadows that the nearby trees were casting were no held to him. Then, as he brushed aside a pile of fallen leaved with his foot, he saw a hard plastic rectangle that vaguely resembled a walkman.
"I found it!" Dean announced triumphantly. He bent down and retrieved the device and, as he looked up, he saw something move in the corner of his eye. Dean's head snapped up just in time to see someone take off from behind a nearby tree. "Hey!" he called, following after the retreating form.
Sam looked up as dean flew past him in pursuit of, what appeared to be, a young girl. Sam followed his brother as the figure zigged and zagged between trees, giving the two brothers a run for their money in the unfamiliar territory. The two of them split up, one on each side of the fleeting figure, until Sam was up ahead and dean was on the left side. He yelled for her to stop, but she continued on, up until she plowed into Sam, who had suddenly came to a halt in front of her. They both were knocked to the ground. Dean starred as he saw Becca Monroe get to her feet, attempting to catch her breath.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded, still slightly out of breath.
"I-I…" Becca trailed off. Her eyes were glued to her shoes and she refused to look up.
"Becca," Sam said, his voice soft with compassion. "What did you come back here?"
"you saw something. Didn't you?" Dean demanded, aggravation evident in his tone. He didn't appreciate being spied on, and he definitely didn't like having to run down some high school girl. "You lied to us before. You know what happened to Adrianne and Joanna!" Dean accused.
"Dean," Sam cautioned, not wanting to scare Becca away again.
"Something happened in that house. That's why you came back here. Isn't it?"
Becca didn't say anything, she just kicked around leaves with her foot.
"Becca, listen," same said soothingly, "You can tell us. Did you see something kill Adrianne and Joanna?"
"Yes," Becca said, looking up from her shoes, "I saw who killed them." Her voice was matter-of-fact and she showed no emotion as she spoke.
"Who?" Sam asked kindly.
"Todd Forrester."