Author's Note: Again, it's been forever since I updated…such is the life of a college student. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Be sure to let me know what you think!!!

Chapter Eight: Bones

With every stair, every creak of rotting wood, Dani's shivers seemed to grow ever the more insistent. Part of her feared that she would be deep into heavy convulsions by the time they reached the bottom. When she had been flung into the room the night before, it had all happened so quickly and seemed so surreal, it was almost as though it had been happening to another person. There hadn't been time to think about the fact that she was making her way down into a dank, dirty basement that had been converted into a psychopath's torture chamber playground. Now, with each step she took, that thought was all too present in the front of her mind.

One by one, their feet hit the dirt floor and they lined up in a sort of crescent formation, each with a weapon held out in front of them.

"So, what are we doin' here, Dani?" Dean asked.

"I, uh, I need time to feel out where he's at." She stuttered.

A high pitched screaming echoed off of the walls throughout the room, sending both of the guys into full 360 spins in search of a target.

"Well," Sam said, "get started."

Dani nodded, shifting her gun into one hand and tucking her flashlight as far as it would go into one of her back pockets, leaving one of her hands free. She groped around blindly into the darkness before her until her hand finally landed on one of the worktables.

Sam glided along the wall of the basement until he found the same lantern from the night before and lit it up again, casting the room in a dim but usable light. Dean kept his weapon shouldered as he kept searching the rafters and stairs for any sign of their friendly host with the most.

"So," Sam said, rolling his shoulders to alleviate tension before readying his gun once again, "how do you know we're looking in the right place?"

"Because I can feel it." Dani said simply, "Besides, Tate was into Necromancy. He would've wanted to be somewhere that he felt…safe…for his afterlife and this place was like his sanctuary. It just makes sense."

Her fingertips brushed over the frayed ends of a coarse thick old rope.

The rope wrapped around a neck. Pressure. Couldn't breathe. A slave boy kicking his legs uselessly as he dangled in the air. A young man hanging, limp and lifeless, his entire body caked with still fresh blood.

Dani pulled her fingers away from the rope and blinked back the onslaught of tears that were threatening to spill over her eyelids. She continued sliding her hand along the tabletop, her palm gently caressing the wooden handle of a very large butcher's knife.

A tall thin man. Stringy thin mousy brown mustache beneath a long pointed nose. Soft hands with few calluses sharpening the large knife on a wet stone. Lustful thoughts of blood. Running a thumb over the knife. Feeling heat rise underneath the collar at the image of pale mutilated flesh. Feelings of such love and adoration for the sharpened metal. Elizabeth Wyatt's lovely young face, covered in blood and reduced to tears and screams for mercy.

Dani snatched her hand away from the table and covered her mouth with it to keep herself from crying out. She never wanted to be inside that man's head again; never. Her stomach retched and for a moment she actually thought that she just might vomit. But she didn't. She gathered her wits and started to continue, when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something that struck her interest. As she drew closer and her eyes were able to make out what it was, she felt an involuntary gasp escape the confines of her throat.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said.

"Hmm?" came Sam's reply.

"Is it me or does it seem too damn quiet in here?"

"I was just thinkin' the same thing." Sam said.

Dani was no more than a breath away from the object that had drawn her attention, now. It was a large metal cage. She debated with herself for a long moment before finally reaching out her hand to touch its rusted surface.

Slamming. Clanking. The click of a lock snapping into place. Five year old Lilian Wyatt screaming for her mother from within the cage. The slender redheaded woman from the pantry, crouched on all fours, naked and bleeding from every visible part of her body. A young girl of about fifteen in a blood soaked knee length floral dress and ripped up fifties style letterman's sweater yanking at the cage bars with all her strength and screaming at the top of her lungs. A young brunette in ripped jeans and a pink scarf huddled in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest and her head down; her entire body trembling.

Dani pulled her hand to her chest, batting her eyes against the tears that were threatening once again to overflow. The last girl…she used to come into the diner. She had known that girl. A shudder ran down the length of Dani's spine as an unbearable rage began to build up in the pit of her stomach. Her eyelids flew open wide and landed on the wall directly in front of her. Her long determined strides closed the distance in the beat of a heart and she pushed her palm flat against the stones. Something flared inside of her at the touch and slid a little further along the wall.

"How we doin' over there, Dani?" Dean called.

"Give me another second." Dani snapped, unaware of the harshness in her tone.

"Sure," Dean said dryly, "I got nothin' better to do."

And then there it was. The high pitched shrill that they had been waiting for. Wasting no time, the bastard swooped down going for Dani right away. Sam unloaded a single round and Tate shattered into the air as though it had never been there.

"That's my boy!" Dean cheered, spinning around, waiting for the next attack.

Another shriek rang through the room, but the damn thing didn't appear. Dani wasn't letting herself be distracted; focusing all of her energy into the task at hand; into her feelings; her instincts. Her hand slid across one stone and it felt as though a jolt of electricity had shot up through her arm and into her chest. She yelped and pulled her hand away. Then, with wide eyes, she touched the stone again. It felt like it was holding a lightening storm inside of it.

"Dean!" she cried, "It's this one! He's here! He's behind these stones!"

After one final sweep around the room, as the wailings were still bouncing off of every single surface, Dean trotted over to where Dani had her hands pressed against the offending stone and dropped the duffle bag to the ground at his feet.

"Cover me." He barked before dropping to his knees in front of the bag.

Dani cradled the gun with both hands as John had taught her to do and pointed it into the air, watching for any kind of disturbance. Sam appeared at her side, his weapon also pointed upward giving Dean extra protection. Dean rummaged through the green duffle bag, finally coming up with a crowbar. He leapt back to his feet and shrugged out of his heavy leather jacket, letting it fall to dirt floor before closing both fists around the crowbar. He quickly moved into a batter's stance and started swinging. As soon as the first blow hit the wall, the wailing magnified in volume by about ten decibels and the pale green rotting ghost appeared almost instantly. Dani fired and hit nothing. It was almost as if Tate's spirit had dodged the bullet. Sam cocked his gun and shot, hitting his mark dead on; buying them another moment of tension filled peace.

Dean swung again, chipping away a little more of the paved stone wall. Sam cleared the empty shells from his gun and crammed two more rounds in, cocking it straight afterward. There was another hollow sound reminiscent to that of nails on a chalkboard just before Sam's feet suddenly flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back. Letting herself be momentarily distracted, Dani grabbed him by the bicep and tried to help tug him back up to his feet. But the sickening glow appeared behind her and she was jerked backwards by her hair. Sam shifted to the side and pulled his trigger, and Dani fell forward to her knees as her hair was released. He had shot a little bit closer to her than he would have liked, but he had had no other options. He helped her back up to her feet with his hand at her elbow, but his eyes continued to roam the room.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Wonderful." She replied, "You?"

"Best day of my life."

Dean had dug the end of the crowbar into the wall and finally, with a loud growl escaping through his clenched teeth and a great strain of effort, he pulled the stone loose from the wall. It toppled heavily to the floor with a deafening crash, drawing the gazes of both Dani and Sam. Dean was panting erratically as he leaned against the wall and threw down the iron crowbar. Through the hole in the wall, they could clearly see the decaying remains of Tate Hughs. A smug grin crossed Dean's face as he pulled a canister of salt from his pocket and flipped it in his hand before turning once again toward the freshly made hole.

From out of nowhere and with no sound whatsoever, the greenish spirit flew at him. It caught him in the side and sent him flying across the room, crashing into one of the worktables that were covered with all sorts of frightening, sharp, skin puncturing devices.

"Shit!" Sam hisses, raising his gun, but Tate had already vanished. He pivoted around, trying to look everywhere at once while Dani rushed across the room to check on Dean.

She touched her hand to his neck, relieved to discover that he was still breathing. Casting nervous glances all around her; she started shaking him by the shoulders trying to jolt him back into consciousness.

"Is he alive?" Sam asked.

Dani nodded, "Yeah."

"Then don't worry about him right now. Get the salt. Let's get this over with." He replied.

Dani cast one more look at Dean's expressionless face before snatching the salt from his limp hand and running back toward the bones. She popped the canister open and emptied its contents into the hole. She had just picked up the lighter fluid when the screeching cry hit her ears with a force that almost made her lose her balance all together. Sam dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes involuntarily squinting against the harsh sound.

Half out of her mind, she opened her mouth wide and screamed back at the ghost in defiance. At the same time, she squeezed half of the bottle of lighter fluid over the remains that were buried in that wall. She stopped only when she watched as Sam's gun was ripped from his hands. She spun around just in time to see the pale glowing spirit pull his feet out from under him again and start to drag him across the floor. Sam managed to catch his fingers onto the crowbar that Dean had been using to knock through the wall. Iron; a spirit repellent; almost just as good as rock salt. He swung the iron rod at the spirit's so-called head and it exploded out of sight. He had barely had the time to get back up on his feet when, with another spine cringing screech, the son of a bitch was back. It caught him by the ankles and Sam went down, a grunt escaping him as he landed on his stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of him and caused him to lose his grip on the crowbar as he was once again dragged across the ground, his fingers digging and clawing at the dirt in desperation which did no good. He was flung inside of the cage that Dani had touched earlier, just before the door slammed down shut and locked into place. She dropped the lighter fluid and sprinted over to the cage, dropping to her knees and trying to figure out how to unlock it.

"No! No!" Sam screamed at her, "Go finish it! Light the bones on fire!"

"I don't have a lighter!" Dani shouted back.

Sam checked all of his pockets, then his eyes darted over to where Dean was still lying on the broken worktable, then back over to the duffle bag; or more accurately, the brown leather coat lying in a puddle beside it. He pointed through the bars, "Go check Dean's jacket!"

Without hesitation, Dani leapt to her feet and raced over to the duffle bag. She hit her knees again as her hands began fumbling through the folds of the soft worn leather. "Damn it! It isn't here!" she called, looking up at Sam, who could only flash her a helpless look accompanied by a slight shake of his head.

She muttered another swear word under her breath before her eyes landed on Dean's still form. She sprang to her feet again and rushed for him, dropping down and baseball sliding up beside his very unconscious body. Digging her fingers into the confines of his blue jean pockets, she began patting him down in search of a lighter, a match, a stick and some dry grass! Anything she could rub together and get a spark! He stirred slightly at her touch, his head tilting to the side and a small gravely moan coming from the depths of his throat.

"Where's you lighter, Dean?" she asked. He stirred again and his eyelids twitched as though he were trying to open them. "Where's your lighter?" she asked again, not expecting an answer. Just as the words left her mouth, she felt something metal brush against her fingertips. Dean's Zippo! "Yes!"

"Dani!" Sam suddenly screamed, but the warning came too late.

She had barely glanced in his direction as the stiff, rough, ancient rope tangled around her neck and ripped her flailing body from her knees up into the air. The Zippo fell from her hands as she reached up to grasp at the noose that was now strangling her.

"Dani!" Sam cried out from inside the cage, shaking the bars with both hands in anger.

Dani kicked and twisted, her fingers tugging at the rope around her neck so hard that their tips were already turning raw and starting to bleed. Looking down, she found herself dangling just over the wooden slab that she had been bolted to previously. She stretched her legs as far as they would go, but she just couldn't seem to get her toes to meet the edge. Coughing, she reached for the line above her head, hoping to pull herself up just a little if it meant that it would relieve even the tiniest bit of pressure from her throat.

All at once it seemed, the snarling, sickening green, decaying face was in front of her again. It bared it pointed teeth at her and she began struggling even harder against the noose, her body jerking spastically back and forth. The lack of air had already started to make her lightheaded and her fighting was becoming weaker and weaker with every passing second. The ghost let out another shrill whine from somewhere deep inside of it and Dani screamed. Her shirt slowly slid upward and the neatly done up bandages were ripped painfully from her torso. Every wound on her stomach seemed to magically reopen all at the same time, letting blood stream steadily down her abdomen and onto her now barely kicking legs.

Her vision started to blur around the edges; her peripheral vision going fuzzy so all that she could see now was the horrible monster in front of her. Was this how all of his victims had felt before they died? Probably not. She had the strangest feeling that compared to what he had put them through, she was getting off easy. Gurgling sounds were coming involuntarily from her throat and her eyelids were beginning to feel extremely heavy. She didn't think she would be fighting for very much longer.

"Hey, asshole!" a gruff masculine voice rang out through the haze, "Need a light?"

Dani turned her face away from the spirit; focusing her sight to the side instead, just in time to watch Dean toss the lit Zippo into the hole and the bones of Tate Hughs go up in flames. The ghost in front of her did the same, bursting into bright red and crumbling away into ash right before her eyes. It let out another high pitched scream as it burned; only this one was shrill enough to turn the blood running through your veins into ice water.

The sight was a welcome one, but it didn't relieve her need for oxygen. She let out another strange rasping sound just as Dean came rushing toward the table, flipping open a butterfly knife as he leapt onto it, using the metal clamps as footholds. He flipped the knife in his hand so that he was holding the blade and offering the handle up to her. Once her fingers caught hold of it, he leapt back down to the ground and looked up at her.

"This is gonna hurt." He warned just as she was slicing into the rope.

She dropped from the air, one of her ankles crashing into the edge of the torture table along the way, and only to land directly on top of Dean. Coughing and sputtering, she clung to him as he helped her to sit up. He quickly removed the rope from her neck, pulling it up over her head and casting it off to the side. She looked him in the eyes, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Thanks…for…breaking my fall." She rasped, the corners of her mouth tipping upward just the slightest bit.

He laughed and climbed to his feet, pulling her up along with him. She cried out and doubled over, clutching her arm to her freshly injured abdomen. Dean rubbed a hand comfortingly over her back as his eyes scanned the room until they fell on something that they approved of. He gave Dani's shoulder a gentle squeeze and left her side. She staggered over to the duffle bag and dropped down beside it, waving weakly at Sam who was still locked inside of the cage.

He looked back at her with his round puppy dog eyes, leaning his forehead against one of the metal bars, "Are you all right?"

It hurt too much to speak, so she just smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Just then, Dean came strutting back into her line of sight, carrying an axe. He strolled over toward Sam, who scrambled to the back of the cage as Dean prepared to swing. He gave one mighty chop, which was accompanied by an immediate 'clang' as a chunk of metal flew away from the cage and bounced off the wall. Dean threw the axe aside, reached down, and lifted the cage door. He didn't like the sight of his little brother locked up. It made him think back to the time that those damned redneck freaks from hell had kidnapped him for a nice little Deliverance style hunt. People. Crazy. Sam crawled out of the cage and straightened to his full height. He looked around the cellar, then focused sharply on his brother.

"You and cages, man," Dean chirped, "what's up with that?"

"I don't know." Sam said, "Let's get the hell outta here."

Dean nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, "Amen to that, brother."

Dean retrieved Dani's handgun from beside the cage and the shotgun that Sam had been stripped of and stuffed them into the duffle bag along with the one he had dropped when he had gone to work on the wall. Sam took the bag from Dean's hands and slung it over his shoulder as Dean helped Dani to her feet.

"So," Dean started, "how does the house feel now?"

Dani closed her eyes, let her head drop back, and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then she tilted her head back up and opened her eyes. A Cheshire cat grin spreading across her lips, she answered, "Well, I wouldn't wanna live here."

Each of them chuckled to the best of their ability as they headed up the stairs, which still creaked and seemed shaky and unsafe. Dean had his arm securely around Dani's back, carrying most of her weight for her in the fear that she still might pass out; and taking those stairs two people at a time was no small feat. They made it back up to the kitchen and Dani risked a glance over her shoulder at the doorway. Somehow, it didn't seem so black anymore. The thought made her smile, but it didn't make her want to pause to take anything in; she wanted out of that house.

Sam stepped aside and let Dani and Dean duck through the unhinged doorway ahead of him. Slowly and steadily, they made it out the front door. As Dean helped Dani down the steps of the front porch, Sam took a moment and looked back into the foyer. Katherine stood halfway up the stairs with a bright, warm smile on her face. She waved her tiny hand at him and then faded away into the darkness, almost as though she had evaporated…or never been there at all. Sam smiled at the now empty staircase before turning his back and trotting down the steps.

"Goodbye, Katherine." He said to no one before breaking into a jog to catch up with his companions.

They each slowly climbed over the fence after Dean spent a full two minutes threatening to just cut the damned thing down and trudged the rest of the way back to the Impala. Sam tossed the duffle bag into the trunk as Dean eased Dani into the backseat. Once the engine had roared to life and they were on their way down the road, Dani let out a long sigh of relief; allowing relaxation to settle over her battered body. It was over. It was really, truly, finally over.

Author's Note: Well, nothing left now but the epilogue. Shouldn't be too long. Don't forget to review!!!