Soon enough, I learned the identity of the voices I heard in the foyer. They must have found the servants' stairs and decided to start from the top floor, because I heard a shout from above me and rushed up to lend assistance. I threw open the door just
/in timeto catch a spray of rock salt originating from the gun of none other than Sam Winchester.
Sam and his older brother Dean were not my favorite pair of hunters, but we got along well enough for it their presence to be a pleasant surprise. Sam was a (rather large) puppy, yetI had always found Dean to be stubborn and hot-headed, although I'm matureenough
/to admit that the reason we argued so much was because of our similarities in those departments.
"Do I looklikea ghost to you, Sam?" I quipped.
"Cat! It's been forever since we've seen you! Years, it's gotta be now. You grew up!" Sam greeted me.
"Okay, I'm literally four years younger than you, asshole." I smiled. "And you're one to talk, how many people did you have to swallow toget that big? Same applies to you, Dean," I said. I never knew how to approach the older brother; we never could
/decide
if we hated each other or not.
"Hey, how've you been? What are you doing here?" He responded quickly, only half present. The spirits wouldn't be gone for long.
As if on cue, a cracked vase flew across the room at me, breaking further and slicing me near the temple. I immediately shifted back into hunter mode, cursing myself for getting distracted by old... I wasn't sure what to call the two boys in front of
/me. Time makes strangers of us all. Regardless, I focused on the task at hand. I assumed that they already must have known about the bones.
"Have you guys found the chest yet?" I asked hurriedly, dodging another flying object as the ghosts reappeared. It was a man and a eyeshad long been hollowed out, but I could still sense a cruelty. Or maybe that was just because
I already
knew what they had filled their leisure time with.
"Nope, and we've already searchedeverything above us," Dean called, swinging a fire poker through the woman's form.
"I ran past the floor below us when I heard youfighting up here, it has to be there somewhere!" I ran for the door, but it shut in my face.
I dashed to the other side of the room to attack the husbandjust as the windows were blown in, showering all three of us with glass. I reached for my iron crowbar and I wasthrown to the ground with a force that felt like an elephant had been thrown on
/top of me. Books flew off shelves and we were pelted with heavy hardcover tomes. I managed to get a grip on my weapon of choice and pushed myself up. I heard Sam grunt as he caught volume 8 ofsomething with his face.
Making another assault on the door, I kicked it open and managed to make it to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I whipped around the banister to the first room I saw.
I ripped out drawers, not noticing the two figures following me in my haste. Each room yielded nothing, and I knew we were out of places to search. The box was hidden somewhere that we couldn't access. I tried to yell down the hall to Sam and Dean, but
/the wind was knocked out of me before I could get more than a whispered syllable out. My body was thrown against a wall. I pulled out my crowbar, intending to swing it. I hit the first figure just as it was ripped out of my hand. I crawled down the
/hallway, gasping for air.
"It's not here!" I yelled with all the strength I could muster.
The man reappeared on my other side, and I looked around madly for my lost weapon. It occurred to me that a shotgun with rock salt would be helpful in the future, no matter how annoying it was. I've never been a fan of large guns like those. I'm not a
/very large person, and the idea of carrying around a shotgun always... felt like more trouble than it was worth. I regretted that choice as soon as I felt a weight on my chest.
A face appeared over the balcony. A shot rang out. Something large dropped to the ground. My vision was becoming blurry. I could hear my own heartbeat.
"Cat, catch!" Dean shouted from above me.
"No, don't throw it!" I warned, but it was too late. The iron rod flewthrough the ghost, right between my outstretched fingers, and clattered to the floor below. "Damn it," I grunted, gasping for air.I limped tothe staircase and attempted to makeit
down without activating acreaky floorboard. Unfortunately, my luck ran out. Only a few steps fromthebottom, the stair actually collapsed under my weight. I yanked my leg up, but I was stuck. "DAMN IT!" I yelled, sufficiently
angry by this point.