Author Note: If you are a previous reader there were no changes to this chapter other then I broke out the letters that originally started this chpt and brought parts A & B together this all in the hope of making things a bit more coherent.

Note #2: And as always my undying love and gratitude to Katrina (the most patient and forgiving!!) for her amazing beta work that makes this so much more then the mad ramblings of my mind!!

SPN: Legacy and Heritage

Chpt 2: The Loner

August 1833 – Baltimore

The Shot Tower Inn was overflowing with the early evening crowd as Samuel Colt made his way in. Smoke filled the stale air as loud laughter was over lapped with sometimes louder curses. It certainly is lively tonight; he thought as he made his way through the crowd and found his familiar spot at the bar. Lewis the bartender nodded to him as Samuel held up a coin, a heavy thunk barely reached his ears as the mug of ale was set before him. Taking a long pull from the mug, Samuel let his eyes travel the room.

"…no I am telling you there is no such thing and you are a mad one to even think it is true," a raising voice behind Samuel made him turn to see what was going on.

"It is a ghost, I am telling you," a young dark haired man leaning drunkenly on the table pointed his finger at his companion calmly. "I know what I saw and you can not tell me otherwise."

"You are a mad drunk," the companion declared shaking his head.

A dark laugh came from the young man, "Then you can prove me wrong can you not? Stay the night and you shall be twenty dollars the richer." The young man smirked, "and prove that I am nothing more then a mad drunk." At his companions obvious distress the man laughed again. "Coward! You are afraid of a little ghost?"

Samuel followed the conversation as best he could, mind racing at the thought of it. He had heard some thing of this a few weeks ago and finally he had managed to catch up with the gentleman who claimed to have a haunted house. He had also heard of the bet to stay the night for twenty dollars. Word had gone around that the man was making a bit of money from the wager; until one of the betters had died that is. No one could tell Samuel the mans' name or when he had died though, only that it was true. Taking the bet would make it possible to stay a little longer, he thought to himself, it might even give him enough time to finally solve the problems with the revolvers design that he was having.

"I will take your offer." Samuel spoke over the crowd as he stood quickly and walked over to the table. Dropping into a chair next to the dark haired man, he stuck out his hand. "Samuel Colt and I will take you up on your offer to stay the night with your ghost," he said with a light laugh as he eyed the two men.

"Edgar Allen," the dark haired man responded and eyed him blearily. "You have no fear then? No worry that the ghost will drive you mad?" he pronounced his words carefully as he took Samuels hand.

"Ah! Ghosts are nothing to worry about," Samuel said with a wave of his hand but he saw the other man blanch even more and frowned slightly. "You do not seem all that mad to me, drunk maybe, but not so mad," he observed with a bright smile.

Edgar gave a long laugh at that and turned to the other man, "You see that, Jacob, I am not mad."

Jacob narrowed his eyes at both the men and then stood, "I have had enough of this. You are both fools and I will not be party to it anymore." With that, he stomped off and disappeared into the crowded pub.

Edgar turned his gaze from his disappearing companion back to Samuel. "Well, Sir, you think you are brave enough to stay then over night with a ghost?"

Samuel smiled slowly and nodded. "Yes, and you have twenty dollars to bet with on this?"

Edgar nodded and pulled the money from his inner pocket, showing it quickly before pushing it back in once more. "And should you welsh out and not stay the full night you will forfeit your money." At Samuel's nod of agreement, Edgar smiled slow and dark.

"Well then perhaps you want to hear the story? You can always change your mind if you find you are too scared and we shall pretend this never happened," Edgar mocked with a snarl.

Samuel straightened his back and stared down at the intoxicated man. It was perhaps a foolish thing to do, taking money from a drunk so easily, but then he had faced werewolves, what was a ghost to that! "I think you only need worry about losing your money, not if I am afraid of some little tale," Samuel replied curtly.

Edgar watched him a moment and then nodded his agreement. "All right then, here is what I have seen first hand and what I know of the ghost. It is a woman, but unlike any that you would know or want to know," Edgar said darkly. "Her shadowy form drifts the halls of the house up the street from here. She visits those who carry a great burden of loss in their hearts. Deep in the night, she comes to them with soft promises and softer touches luring them into security. It is only as they are about to succumb that she shows her true self; a dark abysmal depth with glowing eyes of red and dripping fangs that she uses to drain her victims of their soul." Edgar gave a low growl as he finished. "It will curl your toes and leaving you praying for morning if you last that long, have no doubt about that."

Samuel settled back in his seat taking a slow sip of his drink before nodding his head. "I will take your bet then, Edgar Allen, but I think we need a third party to act as go-between." Samuel raised his eye brow at the man and when he received an nod of agreement, looked around the room to find either the man who had been there before or someone else that looked trust worthy. He spotted an older gentleman sitting at the table next to them who, while he looked a bit travel weary, was still neat. With a pair of small spectacles upon his nose and a generous helping of grey at the temples of his slightly long hair, he knew this was the person. Catching the man's eye, he waved him over. "Excuse me, Sir, might we have a moment of your time?"

The man stood and settled himself at their table, taking Jacobs former chair. "My name is Samuel Colt," he introduced, holding out his hand to the man. "My friend and I were wondering if we could impose on you if you were going to be in town for the night?"

"Name is Clarence Smith," the man said, taking Samuels' hand. "I am here for a few days as a matter of fact," he responded with curiosity as he looked the two men over.

"Edgar Allen." Edgar held his hand out toward the man. "My friend," he said a bit sarcastically, "and I have a small wager and we needed someone impartial to be our intermediary. Would you mind holding a sum for us over night until we settle our debate?" Edgar gave a smirk to both the men as he took another drink.

Smith's eyes narrowed as he looked between the two men. "Well now, I do not know. I am not one for getting between two men in a fight here."

Samuel shook his head at that. "No, no. This is not a fight, merely a curiosity." Samuel gave a wide smile to Smith as he pulled the money from his pocket. "My friend here says he has ghost in his house and he thinks I can not stay the night with it. I, however, think that is ridiculous and well, here we are," Samuel said as he handed the money to Smith and looked over at Edgar waiting for him to do the same.

Smith stared at the two men with a look of suspicious disbelief on his face. "You are betting on whether you would be able to stay the night in a haunted house?" At Samuels' nod, Smith shook his head. "You are both a couple of idiots but yes, I can hold your money." He took the money from each and placed it inside his pocket.

Samuel stood then, clapping a hand on Smiths' back and nodding happily at Edgar. "Well then, I will be getting a few things and meeting you back here shortly." Edgar gave a nod of agreement and Samuel headed back to the boarding house as the early evening began to settle around the city.

"You are sure of this?" Edgar asked again as they stood in front of the small row house, the dark settling around them.

Samuel looked from the dark front stoop to the men at his right and nodded. Shifting his bag from one arm to the other, he held out his hand for the key. "I will see you here in the morning then," he said with a confident smile.

Edgar nodded and handed over the key. "If you survive the night," he replied ominously before giving a small bow to Smith and walking back to the pub they had just left.

Smith stared at Samuel for a moment then shook his head before turning to follow Edgar.

Samuel watched the men leave before walking up the steps and opening the door. He was on the end unit and was a bit surprised the house next to this appeared to be empty as well. As the door swung open into a dark and musty hallway, Samuel pulled a box of matches from his pocket, striking one and quickly looking for a light. Spotting a hurricane lamp on the sideboard to his right, he quickly put the match to it.

As the lamp sputtered to life, Samuel let his eyes travel around him. The darkness was not abated much by the light as the walls were a dark wood paneling that seemed to pull what little light there was into them. Dusty floors under him creaked as he walked the few steps to the stair landing and as he climbed, a heavy silence descended upon him. Feet on worn carpeting, spitting of the lamp and his breath were the only sounds in the oppressive darkness and Samuel found that odd as well. His boarding house, though slightly bigger was a similar layout and its thin walls carried every sound around it, from the streets outside to the neighbors beside and above. Yet here it was as still as the forest in the deep of night.

Stepping onto the upper landing, Samuel looked to the left and right. Edgar had said that a linen closet lay to the left along with two rooms further down the small corridor. Turning that way, Samuel walked the few steps toward the first room and shivered at the cool air as it moved across his skin when he stopped in front of the door. Frowning, he opened the door and considered perhaps getting more blankets from the other room if it were to be this cold all night as he dropped his bag upon the bed. After a moment though, he decided it was not as cool as he had thought before and settled for unpacking things instead. Samuel pulled out the small bible his sister had gifted him with on his way to Baltimore, smiling at the memory of her before reaching in for the box of blessed salt that Elias had sent to him with their first correspondence several months ago. Laying the box upon the dresser next to the lamp, he looked around the room marking the furniture placement and other sundries around it before reaching for his pocket watch.

It was only eight in the evening and Samuel realized he still had a few hours before the ghost would supposedly appear, so he stretched out upon the bed and made himself comfortable. Pulling one of the books Elias had recommended, Samuel settled in to rest and read up a bit before he put the ghost down; or dismissed it as the ramblings of a drunk whichever may come he thought with a smile.

The sounds of a clock chiming startled Samuel awake and he reached for his pocket watch surprised to see it was midnight. Quickly standing, he grabbed his bible and the lamp heading quickly into the hallway as the last chime of twelve sounded.

As he stepped into the hallway, Samuel shivered at the cold, wondering when the temperature had dropped so drastically. Movement from the corner of his eye startled Samuel and he looked down the hallway to the stairs. A shifting shadow was just clearing the top step of the landing, a woman, Samuel realized quickly as the dim light coalesced around it highlighting her dark dress and hair. As if she were in mourning, Samuel thought to himself as he tried to catch as many details as he could in the darkness.

Blinking, Samuel held the lamp a little higher before him hoping to see better and found himself mesmerized by the pale beauty that slowly moved toward him "Who are you?" Samuel finally managed to ask.

Dark eyes and pale skin turned toward him. 'Help me,' she softly pleaded with a voice like the sound of church bells on a clear day. Samuel tried to catch his breath at the beauty that flooded him.

However the deafening explosion and sting of something as it struck his cheek broke the spell that Samuel found himself under, as well as the apparition in front of him. All that was left when Samuel blinked and shook his head to clear it, was Clarence Smith standing on the top step of the landing a smoking rifle in his hand.

"How fool stupid are you boy?" Smith drawled menacingly as he stalked the few steps across the landing to Samuel. "Elias said you were grieving but he said nothin' of a death wish."

Samuel blinked again and shook head, the ringing slowly fading. "What? What are you doing here?" he finally managed to sputter out. Looking around him in confusion, he turned an angry glare on the older man. "And what in the hell were you thinking firing a rifle inside a house? You could have killed me!"

Smith gave a huff and pushed Samuel back toward the bedroom and its light. "If I wanted to kill you I would have boy, do not be doubtin' that," was all he said as they entered the room. "Let me see that cut there." Smith looked over the small spatter cuts on the side of Samuels face and gave a nod as he stepped back. "Not much there, you will be fine. Now mind telling me why you were just letting that spirit suck the life out you Samuel Colt?" he glared at the young man as he settled himself against the dresser.

"Wait! You know Elias Remington?" Samuel felt like cotton wool was slowly being pulled out of his brain and everything was scattered and confusing still.

Smith shook his head and took a deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest, giving Samuel a hard stare. "Yes I know Elias and I know about you through him. Elias and I go back a few years though it was just happenstance that I ran into you at the pub. And really what kind of fool are you? Goin' off chasin' ghosts when you do not know the first thing about them!" Smith growled at the boy and then held up his hand for silence. "Never mind, we will talk about that later. In the meantime you need to be getting your stuff and going before she comes back."

Samuel barely managed to keep himself in check as he realized the other man was a hunter as well as a friend to Elias. Instead he pushed his thoughts back to the reason he had come here in the first place as he felt the last of the ghosts' effects and the shot gun blast wear away. "Do you think she will come back tonight?" Samuel asked as he looked toward the door and stood.

"Oh, she will be back and shortly I am sure. I just managed to scatter her a little." Smith looked toward the door as he moved toward Samuel. "She is far from done that I am sure of, not with you sitting here like a Christmas prize for her," Smith snarled.

"Well what are we waiting for, let us go get her," Samuel urged, excitement washing away the sting on his cheek and flooding him with renewed drive.

Smith stared back dumbfounded for a moment and then barked, "You are not going anywhere but out of here. I will take care of this without you getting in the way." He pushed Samuel on the back, towards the door.

Samuel shook his head. "No, no, I came here to get rid of this ghost and I will. Elias sent me information and I have studied it all. I am ready for this!" he said with a bit of indignation at the older man.

"You are no where near ready for this, boy. Do not be more of an idiot then I already think you are. Get out. You have no idea what you are dealing with here. Ghost?" he snarled darkly. "You think this is a simple ghost? That shows just how little you know as this is clearly a vengeful spirit we are dealing with here." Smith reached out a hand, clamping down on the younger mans arm to drag him from the room and finally the house.

Samuel dug his heels in and spun quickly slipping out of Smith's grip and was silently proud of the look of surprise on the other mans face as he did. "No! I will admit that I do not know everything about this and I am not even sure what you mean by a vengeful spirit, but I know that I want to learn and I am not leaving. Tell me what I must do - anything but leave," Samuel said holding up his hand as the other man very obviously was about to tell him just that. "I have to do this and I will not let you tell me otherwise."

Smith stopped and watched the boy for a long moment then gave a grudging shrug. "Your mistake, Samuel."

Stepping back, Smith settled himself once more. "I have been following this for a few months now. Started when I caught word of that Edgar fellow's claim of a woman walking the halls here. I did a bit of digging and found a few others who have said they saw the same thing. I was going to dismiss it but I have also found that there have been several deaths in the last few years here. Odd deaths, more considered accidents then anything but when I put that together with the apparition and hearing Edgar talk about her I knew what it was." He looked at Samuel as if he expected him to make the next comment but Samuel continued staring at him in confusion.

With another sigh Smith stood up pushing away from the dresser. "Vengeful spirits are those who act out against the living because of how they died," he explained. "They have business to attend to but it is not the sort where they want to be telling one where they buried the treasure trunk, Samuel. They want revenge for dying and they usually go after those who they feel are closest to the ones that killed them."

Samuel realized in that moment what Smith was saying. "She is coming after men; men who she feels rejected her. No!" he corrected with a flash of understanding. "She is going after young men who she thinks killed the women they loved." The realization of that insight dawned horrifically on Samuels' face.

"Now will you leave?" Smith asked quietly as he watched Samuel. "I do not think Elias will take too kindly to me if I let you get killed."

"No! She needs to be stopped and," he paused then swallowed past the lump in his throat. "And I am going to help you stop her. What do we do?" He looked up at Smith with determination.

Smith was slow to give his acceptance but, finally, after a few moments of thought, did. "Well we need to find where she is buried. Near as I can tell it is either in the basement or out in the garden. Would be the only place that makes sense, she is still haunting here where it happened so she will likely be close by."

Samuel nodded his understanding and quickly adjusted his shirt and vest before turning to the door again. As they stepped into the hallway though, he could once more feel the drop of temperature and thought for a moment to grab his coat when he saw the shadow shifting by the steps again.

"Smith," he whispered harshly and pointed. Smith looked around the doorway and then quickly pulled Samuel back into the room.

"Stay back, Samuel, and reload this for me quickly," he said curtly before stepping into the hallway and straightening his spine as he pulled his second rifle from its sling over his shoulder.

Samuel could hear Smith in the hallway, prayer sounding loudly in the small corridor as he bellowed toward the approaching spirit. He found it oddly comforting in its familiarity as he quickly loaded the cartridge into the rifle and then frowned as it looked like nothing he had ever seen before. He reminded himself to ask about that later as he stepped close the door and then fell back at the deafening boom that rocked the corridor when Smith fired once more.

Blinking around the smoke and trying to hear around the ringing in his ears, Samuel quickly looked into the corridor and saw that the older man was turning toward him. "We'll need to be moving quickly now," Smith bellowed over his own deafness.

Samuel nodded his agreement and joined the other man in the hallway as they headed toward the basement. Smith lit another lamp and they hurried down the stairs and through the oppressive darkness. Stepping off the final set of stairs they looked around them with dismay. The hard packed dirt of the floor was obviously undisturbed around them. "You start there, I will go to the left," Smith said with a determined sigh. See if anything gives even a little and we'll start there."

Samuel took the shovel and started toward his corner thinking as he did. Where would someone have put a body where others would not have noticed and how far would they have dug down? Questions raced through his mind as he tested the dirt over and over trying to find some give or weakness in the flooring.

Stopping after a bit, Samuel looked toward Smith. "These stories you have heard, are they all the same? Or were there differences to them?"

Smith stopped a moment, mopping his head as he rested on the handle of the shovel thinking. "I would say they were all the same. The man woke, a noise disturbing his sleep and when he went to investigate she was on the landing approaching him."

Samuel nodded as he thought. "There was a sound like chimes on a clock. I do not remember seeing a clock though," he said distractedly.

"A clock? Like an upright one?" Smith demanded with a start. When Samuel nodded his agreement, his eyes narrowed. "What else do you remember?"

"She said 'Help Me'," he remembered with a frown. "That does not make sense, why would she ask me for help if she wanted to hurt me?"

"They will say a lot of things that do not make sense, Samuel. Best you be learning that right now," Smith advised with a grunt as he went back to testing the earthen floor.

"No, I think this means something," Samuel maintained firmly as he too went back to tapping the ground with the shovel. "But what?" he sighed as he continued and then stopped once more.

"Wait!" Samuel looked at Smith across the room. "Ghosts, they haunt familiar places and ones that want to pass on a message, they stay in the same place over and over right?" At Smiths nod of agreement, Samuel dropped his shovel. "She is not down here. She is upstairs!" he shouted in excitement as he ran for the stairs.

Smith frowned but followed the young man. "I do not think so, Samuel, makes no sense and would not we have seen the body if it was just laying up there."

Samuel nodded as he burst onto the first floor and continued up onto the second immediately noticing that the temperature once more dropped drastically as he approached the first bedroom door. The change in temperate was enough that he could feel something like frost on his face. "This is it, Smith. Feel the drop in temperature? I do not know why I missed it so many times before." Samuel shook his head at himself and looked down the corridor.

"There!" he exclaimed and hurried down to the end of the hall. "I did not see it earlier for all the shadows. They stopped and Smith held the lamp up so that they could clearly see the old grandfather clock. It had stopped working with no one to wind it or care for it, on midnight, Samuel thought with a frown. Looking it over, he tried to see how to open its cabinet facing but the small door appeared to be nailed shut. Turning toward Smith he gave him a significant look. "It looks nailed shut, I am telling you Smith this is what I heard when she appeared. I think she is in it."

Smith pulled a large knife from his coat and nodded for Samuel to move out of the way. "Let us see what you have found, Samuel." Prying for several moments, there was finally a loud creak and then a crack as the facing door popped open with a good heave. A foul breeze seemed to flow out and through them suddenly causing both men to step back. There nestled in the heart of the clock was a tattered bundle of desiccated bones and faded scraps of cloth. But most horrifying of all was the empty skull several fine cracks winding out from under the straggles of black hair, its mouth gaping in horror and its empty eye's stretched in a perpetual state of fear. Smith quickly blessed himself at the sad sight of what once had been a pretty girl.

"Help me," whispered on the breeze and then the sounds of a moaning screech filled the air as Samuel spun toward the other end of the hallway.

Smith grabbed his arm holding him back as the shadow moved toward them, moaning and crying pitifully. "No, Samuel. Help me with this!" Smith grunted as he tugged at the younger mans arm, trying to get his attention.

Samuel turned back blinking as a sense of dread and heaviness started to take over him. "What," he forced through is lips. "What do I do?"

Smith handed him the box of salt that had sat on the dresser in his room and for a moment he stared dumbly at it before looking toward the clock and nodding slowly. Opening the top he began tossing handfuls of the salt into the opening of cabinet and then jumped back as Smith tossed in the lamp behind him. A bright flash filled the hallway and a screech of anger followed it. Turning away from the clock, Samuel saw an empty hall before turning back to the fire. "We can not let this burn out of control," he suddenly realized and ran for his room, grabbing the basin and pitcher from it.

"Not yet!" Smith commanded as he saw the young man return with the water. "We have to get the bones or she will just come back." They watched cautiously as the fire began to grow and then, finally, Samuel couldn't wait any longer dashing it down with the water and thankfully catching it before it spread to the wall and beyond.

"That should do it," Smith said with a dry throat as he watched the flames die down to embers in the hallway before reaching over to the window to open it for some fresh air.

Samuel opened the door to his room and stepped aside. "You are welcome to the bed, I do not think I am going to sleep for a bit." He dropped his bag by the desk and took the chair.

Smith looked over the small room and nodded his thanks. Settling his bag at the foot of the bed across the room, he eyed the papers everywhere with curiosity.

Samuel caught the look and gave a weary smile. Picking up the larger drawing from the desk, he held it out toward Smith who took them and looked over them carefully as Samuel stood behind him waiting to see what he would say.

"The chamber revolves to load the next bullet - like spokes on a wheel." At the look of understanding on Smith's face, Samuel continued, "I am thinking that it will be a great help, much faster not having to reload each time." He suddenly remembered how painfully long it had seemed just a few hours before as he tried to reload Smith's rifle.

Smith nodded. "I have seen something a little like this but," he looked over the drawings and then the notes on the table. "This looks much more workable," he looked over at the younger man. "Not that I am an expert or anything. I like the idea though, Colt, any success with it?"

Samuel gave a defeated sigh, "Not yet. I am getting there though, I just," he stopped frustrated. "I just need more time."

Smith nodded his understanding again. "It is why you took that bet is it not."

Samuel gave a dry laugh and dropped back down onto the chair as Smith made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. "It will give me another couple weeks I think."

Smith stared at the window as the sunny morning light tried to make its way through the drawn curtains. "You are not a bad sort, Samuel Colt," he finally said breaking the silence. "Remind me a lot of Elias." He laughed slightly at that. "He would have done the same, do not let him tell you otherwise." Looking at Samuel, he added, "I can see you want to help - others and us - Elias has told me you pester him for information."

Samuel sat up in surprise but Smith chuckled again, "Well, not pester maybe. You are too inexperienced though, Colt. Too impatient and it is going to get you killed." Smith held up a hand as Samuel tried to argue with him. "Now that does not mean you always will be, but you are now. You could easily have died tonight if I had not come here. But then maybe that is the way it is meant to be," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I know that Elias will not tell you this, he respects you too much, but you need to use that head of yours more, Samuel. It is obvious you are a smart one," he waved his hand around at the papers. "And I think might be a good addition to the community - if you do not get your fool self killed first." He gave a wry smile to soften some of his words.

"You are even greener than when Elias first showed up on my doorstep," Smith shook his head at that thought. "I have some books I will send you, stick to reading for now all right. Once you have finished that, I will," he stopped and scratched his stubbled chin a moment. "I will see about taking you on a hunt with me. Deal?"

Samuels face lit with excitement all but wiping the defeated frustration from it. "Deal," he settled back down at the look from Smith. "Thank you, Sir. I know we did not get off to the best of starts and I apologize for my stubbornness."

"Not like it should surprise me," Smith answered with a wave of his hand. "Elias and I did not start off the best either but I suppose he turned out well." He smiled fondly but then it faded. "He was a great deal worse off when we met than you and I, mad with grief still and vengeance his driving force." He shook his head lost in thought for several moments. "I still think his vengeance is what wakes him every day. But at least now he has something to distract him." Smith looked Samuel in the eye. "I thank you for that, Samuel Colt. Your letters, they seem to be reaching him." Smith shook his head coming back to himself. "Well I think I will be going," he said as he stood and took up his bag.

"No, Smith, you do not -"

Smith shook his head. "I only came to make sure you were safe now," he admitted with a smirk at Samuel before opening the door. "I will send you those books here, Samuel," he told the lad pointedly then closed the door behind him as he left.


So still with me? Still interested, hate it? Think it needs to just go away or no? I'd love to hear what you think. Good, bad or indifferent :) And if not then I thank you for reading this far!