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The Collector

Chapter thirteen

"Sammy!" Dean pushed himself backward as he watched Sam's body begin to decay and fall apart in front of him. What the hell was happening? He wanted to reach out to his brother to help him but it was obvious Sam was dead. Dead? He couldn't be dead, not like this…not this rotting body in front of him. Sam had only just vanished a few hours ago there was no way his body could already be decaying. Dean shook his head slightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn it think! Then it came to him, it was all just a hallucination, none of it was real. The mist was making him hallucinate just like it had done to Sam. Sam and these other bodies weren't real. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked back at the bodies; all of them including Sam's were gone. Dean walked around the room looking for any sign of the mist. He knew if he blasted it with the salt gun that should take care of it, at least temporarily, but since the man's body had been cremated there was nothing to burn… except the house. Maybe the spirit was attached to the house and once it was gone so would the spirit. But he couldn't burn the house until he was sure Sam, or anyone else, wasn't in it. He researched the house from top to bottom and when he was sure no one was in it he went to his car and took a large container of gasoline out of it then went back to the house and sprinkled it around inside covering all the floors. He went back to the basement and was just about to light the match when he heard a voice…Sam's voice.

"Dean don't…please…don't…."

"Sammy?"

"Dean please…if you strike that match I'm dead…."

"Sammy where are you?" Dean spun around in a circle looking in every direction. "Sammy?"

"Please Dean…I don't want to burn…I don't want to die…not like this…."

Tears came to Dean's eyes as he put the matches back in his pocket. Was he hallucinating again or was it really Sammy's voice? He knew it was probably not real… but what if it was? He couldn't light the match knowing that maybe his brother was really somewhere in the house. Just then a faint glow came from outside the basement window; Dean walked over to it and looked out. He watched as the mist began to form and then head down the street in the direction of the son's house. Dean didn't hesitate; he quickly ran outside and jumped in his car to follow it, the house he would burn later.

Richard's house

Dean watched as the mist slowly began to disappear into the basement window of the son's house. He ran up to the porch, his salt gun in his hand as he pounded on the door. He could see Richards peeking out through the curtain.

"Open the door!"

"Go away!"

"I'm not going to hurt you; I just need you to open the door!" Dean knew he must be scaring the man to death standing on his porch with a shotgun in his hand.

"What do you want?"

"I just need to check something out in your house…I won't hurt you."

"Go away or I'll call the cops!"

"I'll put the gun down, you can leave….Please …I need to get in your house." Dean put the shotgun down on the porch then put his hands up and backed up. "I'm giving you a chance to leave …if you don't…. I'll bust the door down and come in anyway."

"Why do you want to come in my house? Who the hell are you anyway?"

"I don't have time to explain….I'm not going to hurt you…But if you don't let me in I'm kicking the door in….it's your choice."

The door slowly opened and Richards stepped out onto the porch.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you want, or if you're some kind of lunatic or what but…." He said as he walked off the porch and stood next to his car.

As soon as Richards was out of the house Dean picked up his shotgun and ran into it. He held the gun up in front of him as he headed for the basement door. He cautiously opened it and turned on the light as he headed down the steps. Weird images filled his head and he tried his best to ignore them knowing they were more then likely left over hallucinations from his encounter with the mist. He was pretty certain Sam wasn't at the old farmhouse, maybe the mist had brought his brother's here to his son's house instead.

"Sam! Sam you down here!" He shouted as he walked around the basement praying he'd find his brother down there alive and unhurt. "Sammy!"

What if Sam wasn't down there? The thought terrified him. If Sam wasn't at the old farmhouse, or here, then where was he? What if he never found his brother?

It was then he saw a faint glow coming from a small crack under what seemed like a solid wall. He cautiously approached it and began pushing on the wall and soon could see more and more light coming from behind the wall, he knew there was definitely another room hidden behind it. Finally after about ten minutes of pushing on the wall it opened up. The smell of decaying bodies hit him immediately and he started to gag as he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he looked at the horrifying scene before him. Bodies of men and woman in different stages of decay sat around a table in front of him, and among them was his brother.

"Sammy!" He cried out as he ran to him. Sam's eyes were shut and he didn't move and Dean felt his stomach twist in a knot at the thought that he was too late and that his brother was already dead and had already been preserved. He put the gun down as he put two fingers against the side of Sam's neck and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a heartbeat, his brother was alive. He knelt down next to Sam and put his hand on his brother's shoulder and shook him gently as he looked into his face. "Sammy?"

Sam's eyes slowly opened and looked into his.

"Thank God…" At least his brother was conscious. "Sam we got to get out of here." Dean grabbed Sam's arm and tried to help him out of the chair but Sam didn't move. "Come on Sammy we got to go…." When Sam still didn't respond Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Sammy? Sam? …What did that bastard do to you?" Dean put Sam's arm over his shoulder and tried to pull him out of the chair, all he wanted was to get his brother far from this Hell. It was then he saw the fear in Sam's eyes and watched as a tear ran down his face. "What is it Sammy? What's the matter?"

He suddenly felt a cold chill go up his spine, when he noticed Sam wasn't looking at him but at something behind him. He grabbed for the gun and started to spin around but a blow to his head knocked him to the ground. He fought to stay conscious as the entire room began to spin before his eyes, but it was impossible. His last conscious thought was that he had failed his brother, and now they both would die.

TBC