AN : Sorry for the long wait, but I had an awful lot of things to do !

Enjoy !

Chapter 6 - Splitting up

A few minutes later, everyone had received his cup of tea, except for Dean who said that he "didn't see why he would drink british crappy things", and stole a beer from the fridge (he hadn't seemed particularly disturbed by the head hidden in it). They were now examining the wall on which Sherlock had pinned everything Lestrade had found about the murders. Castiel and the Winchesters were giving more information.

Sam scratched his head ; he didn't understand what was happening. Twenty-eight corpses had been found, but there were at least twenty-three different modi operandi. So it couldn't be a single creature. But the choices of victims were too similar to come from different heads.

"This one is from a witch," the younger Winchester said, tapping on the picture of Lillian Brown, a eleven-year-old girl who had drowned in her bath.

"And how can you say that ?" Sherlock asked.

"This hex." Sam pointed the picture of a little bag lost in the clues. "It's typical of witches ; they hide it in the house of their victim, and depending on the spell they've chosen, the people die in a horrible or really horrible way."

The hunter could literally see Sherlock's brain proceed and stock the information as he joined his hand under his chin.

The Doctor seemed to come back to life. He showed them the picture of the dead body of a young boy in the woods. In the back there was a statue. The stone angel was most likely crying, his head burried in his joined hands.

"The legend of the picture says the boy, Heinrich Jones, went to the woods two weeks ago, with his sister, Carla, to play hide-and-seek. They found the boy yesterday, but Carla never showed up. I think I know why. This marble statue, it's called a weeping angel."

"Angels don't weep," Cass observed.

Sam sighed. "It's obviously not a real angel. I think I heard about that legend. Isn't there something with looking at them ?" he asked.

"You got it," the Gallifreyan replied. "The stone ; it's just a disguise. They are... creatures. When you don't look at them, they move. Fast. To kill you, they send you back in the past, fifty, seventy, a hundred years ago, and they nourish on the life you would have had, had you stayed in the present."

"Nice."

Sam didn't need to look to know it was Sherlock who had made that comment.

"Okay for the girl," John said, "but about the boy ? Why didn't he die the same way as his sister ? I mean, it seems he has been... devoured."

"Wendigo."

It was Dean who had spoken, and everyone silenced, as if they knew the horror that would follow.

"Very rare, and it's for the better. They're... They were, once, a long time ago, humans. But the little part of humanity they ever possessed disappeared a while ago when, out of food, they began to eat other humans. Cultures over the world, they believe that eating human flesh makes you... stronger, faster. But once you've changed, you can't turn back. And so wendigos hide in the woods, taking humans, keeping them alive in their caves to eat them, little piece by little piece."

"Not nice."

This time it was John who had spoken.

"We have to stop this," he said. "But I don't know where to begin, since there are so many murders, and you -he pointed at Cass, Dean and Sam- say it can't be the same creature."

"We should split in groups of two," Sherlock proposed. "We'll ask questions to the family of the four last victims. William Carlton, Heinrich and Carla Jones, Rebecca Eaton."

He showed them pictures of the victims.

"William Carlton was a young boy, no more than six when he died. One day he was fine, and the next one he didn't wake up. He was admitted in the hospital but died without regaining conscience."

"Wasn't he just sick ?" the Doctor asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "His vitals were good, he had no sign of any known sickness, and then bam, he died in a second. It's not... It's not natural. And I want to be sure we don't let any clue escape us."

"So who's gonna investigate on that ?" Dean asked. "I want to be part of the group ; I have a strange déjà-vu feeling when I think about it."

"Okay, who wants to go with Dean ?" his brother asked. "I think it's better if Cass, Dean and I split up, so each group will have a supernatural experience."

"I agree", John said. "I'll go with Dean."

Sherlock snorted. "Now that we're done with details, maybe we can concentrate on the second case we're investigating on ? Heinrich and Carla Jones. Respectively seven and eleven years old. Who wants to search the... - he frowned, as he didn't believe what he was saying - wendigo ?"

"I'm on it", the Doctor said. "After all, I'm the only one who has fought weeping angels."

"I'm with you", Sam added. "Always wanted to see one of this bastards for real."

"So it leaves me and Castiel to investigate on Rebecca Eaton", Sherlock finished. "She disappeared one night, then came back, the disappeared again. Forever, this time."

TBC

Very short chapter, but the next ones will be longer.