You can find pictures of the outfits or part of the outfits in my profile page.
Again, this isn't a very good chapter, my apologies. I rushed it up so you could read it.
Chapter 8 - Halloween (PART 2)
Two days passed and Sam did not leave. Dean, Castiel and him were invited to be Marie's company to the Halloween party.
The clock indicated 6:30pm, and Sam Winchester was putting his tie on, looking in the mirror in his girlfriend room. Marie was in her closet, getting ready. Sam put that black thing around his neck and then looked to himself from head to toes: looking good as always.
"Sam, your brother and Castiel will meet us here, right?"
"Yes, don't worry. They'll be here in 30." He said, walking towards the closet. "Can I come in?"
"Can you? Yes. May you? No."
"Grammar nazzi." He played. "Come on, you left for two hours and arrived 30 minutes ago and didn't let me see you."
She put her lip gloss on and then took her sparkly peep toe shoes out of the box. She walk to the bedroom, and turned his back to the door.
"Zip me up, Sam." And so he did. Her hair had been done by a professional: you could see that. The most perfect curls hang on her neck, on a kind of bun. Her dress was long and in the most beautiful light shade of sea green, silk chiffon, wrinkled in the bodice, with a long V neck on the front, and an equal cleavage on the back. She looked like a nymph. No glasses, very natural-looking make-up. She was just… gorgeous. "You may stop staring now, baby."
"You look amazing."
"So do you. Except… are you going like that?"
"What's wrong?"
"Where are your shoes, my love?"
Sam looked to his feet, paying a little more attention. You could see his black socks covering his feet and nothing else.
"Shit." He laughed.
He sat on the bed and put on his shoes that were on the side of the dresser. He then saw, just resting in the night stand, the necklace Marie always were, one way or another: a vintage silver locket, really old looking. Sam picked it up.
"This is probably the first time you take this necklace off." He said, preparing to open the locket and see what was inside.
Marie looked at him, very quickly, with very scare eyes, like a dear on headlights. She took it out of his hand and saved in a very discreet dress pocket.
"Sorry." She spoke. "I just… I'm not supposed to take it off."
"Ever?"
"Ever. I took it today just… I… I don't know why. Hm… Interessting." She shrug and then smiled.
The doorbell rang and Marie picked up her cellphone and put it in her pocket too, took the house keys in her hand and a paper bag with their masks inside and walked to the door. Sam picked his wallet, put it in his blazer and walked with her.
"It's cold outside." Said Sam. "Are you going to take a coat?" He caressed her cheek. God, how right it felt to stand by her side.
She smiled.
"No, Sam, it won't be necessary." He kissed her forehead after she spoke her words.
"We'll see." He said, just so sure she would have a cold by the end of that night.
They both walked out of the apartment and building, meeting Cas and Dean inside the Impala. They both watched the couple walk down the stairs, Marie holding his arm and Sam with a look on his face that he hadn't had in a very very long time. They actually looked like a normal couple. Little did they all know, for sure, how much they were not.
Sam opened the car door for Marie to get in, she did and he closed the door and ran to the other side and got in too.
"Don't you two look fabulous?" She said, more as an affirmation than a question, looking at Castiel and Dean, wearing their best tuxedos .
"Thank you for your compliment." Said Castiel.
"You look amazing yourself." Replied Dean, looking at her with the most unintentional and seductive smile ever, you know, the Dean Winchester look.
They drove to the doctor's mansion, on top of a hill, in the middle of nowhere, in a propriety surrounded by a forest. By the entrance, valets awaited for the guests, to drive their cars into the parking lot. They waited less than a minute for their turn to arrive and when it did, 4 valets rn to open their doors, but only Marie let hers be opened by the boy that intended to. Holding 3 masks, she got out of the car and said thank you to the man, accepting his help to get out of the car, just to be nice. Already wearing her filigree white mask, with pearls and crystals, Marie handed one to the men who came with her, simpler ones, more masculine ones… well, as masculine as a masquerade mask can be.
Sam immediately walk to his date and gave her his arm, he crossed hers with his and they both went up the stairs, followed by Castiel and Dean. The mansion was enormous, the party was alive and exquisite, a string quartet played live, along with a piano man. Later, a blues and jazz singer would take the stage. It looked exactly like an old masquerade ball, except it was a little darker and you could see a subtle Halloween theme everywhere you looked: was it the hanging spider webs and jack o'lanterns or the way the waiters were dressed as rotting dead people, fake blood on some of the guests clothes and faces or the ripped masquerades dresses or one or two Draculas. Whatever costume were they wearing, everyone (or almost everyone) had a mask on their face.
"Look at all the rich snobs." Said Dean, once they were inside and after grabbing a glass of champagne.
"Hey, be polite." Responded Marie, with a motherly look on her face.
Dean took a sip of his drink.
"God, I hate champagne."
"Do you want some beer?" Asked Marie, as Sam and Castiel looked around enjoying the show. They had people dressed as seventeen century zombies in cages and sad clowns performing in a corner.
Damn it: clowns. Sam swallowed hard, afraid. Clowns: one of the things he hated the most.
"Yeah, I think I'd be better with a beer." Dean answered, but still he drank all the champagne in one sip.
Marie called a waiter and asked for three beers and one vodka cranberry. The man went to get what she wanted and, at that exact time, a man in world war I english army uniform approached them, beautiful, blonde perfect hair, eyes painted in the most beautiful and vibrant shade of blue. He looked like a gentleman from the 20's that just came back from war, or was about to departure, leaving behind a rich family, a mother and a soon to be wife, a family known in all of England.
"Miss Colt." He said, in a terribly charming british accent with all the manners a gentleman possessed.
"Dr. Stevens." She tried not to laugh, while she took a bow and he kissed her hand. "This is Sam and Dean Winchester." She presented. "And Castiel…"
"Michelson, he's Castiel Michelson." Finished Dean.
Dr. Stevens, the world war I warrior, that couldn't have more than 30 year old, showed them what Marie categorized as the 3rd most beautiful and breath taking smile in the world (right under Billy's and Sam's smile).
"Nice to meet you, Dean." He said, as he shook their hands. "Castiel. Sam."
"Nice too meet you too, Dr. Stevens."
"Oh please, drop the Doctor. I'm Matthew." He replied, with all the grace a person could have, but a very modern use of words that went completely against his costume. Sam recognized that name. Dr. Matthew Stevens, MD; Marie's coleague.
"How's war?" Asked Dean.
"Over." Smiled Matthew, very politely and entertained. "Who are these fine gentlemen, my dearest Marie?"
"They're my dates, one man just isn't enough."
The man laughed, except one: Castiel.
"Dean and Castiel are my… friends slash Sam's family. And Sam is… well… my actual date."
Matthew's smile was lost for only one fraction of a second, but then appeared, just as graceful, but not as real as before.
"That's marvelous. I hope you are treating Marie for what she is."
"What is that?" Whispered Cas to Dean.
"A lady of course." Answered Matthew, after barely hearing Castiel.
"Yes, Matthew, he is." Said Marie, to make him at peace. Sam smiled: no he wasn't, ladies do not deserve to be abandoned.
"This is not awkward at all." Said Dean, with a mocking smile on his lips.
"Well, I must leave you, I see Spencer and James by the piano. I'll see you in a bit." Matthew said. "Sam, Dean, Castiel." He then look at Marie and showed her a smile that you could not understand if it was a happy or a sad one. His mouth pointed at the first one, but his eyes said otherwise. "Marie." And he kissed her in the cheek, gracefully and carefully, and then left holding his Scotch on rocks.
They watched them leave and when he was far enough, Dean said, teasing them:
"You have that rich snob after you and you chose Sam?"
Samuel sent the evil look to his brother.
"Yes."Answered Marie. "Sam's got better ass." She played.
"That explains all."
She was in the second floor of that mansion, just exploring the place. She was knew to the those kinds of parties and was starting to get bored. He walked silently through the corridors untill she saw someone inside a room. A man, young, he was an employee for Dr. Morgan, not just for that party; he was what you could call the foots man of that house. He was lying in the bed, very still. She then looked closer, and saw blood. Blood painting the bed in red. In the corner of the room, a woman, in a masquerade ball gown, drenched in blood, pale as snow, looked at her and disappeared. The girl couldn't scream: all she could do was run and that's what she did.
Downstairs, the group of four saw her leave, scared, as so did a bunch of other people, but those did not pay attention. Dean and Castiel went to speak to her. Marie excused herself saying she needed to go to the bathroom. Sam wouldn't see her for hours after that, neither would Cas and Dean.
"Sammy, guess what."
"What?" Asked Sam, as he joined Dean and Castiel, in a more isolated corner, next to the stairs.
"We've got a job."
"What?!"
"Yes, that girl just swore she saw a ghost and a dead body in the fifth room to the right, upstairs."
One they got to the room, the man was still there, lying in the bed, drowned in his own blood. They locked the door. If someone else saw that, they would call the police and that would make their job a lot harder. Castiel stayed and guarded the room.
"Who the hell did that?"
"Well, there was no sulfur so my money's on a ghost."
A maid passed by them, running. When they spoke to her, she too said she saw a woman, a ghost of a woman, and added that she knew her: it was Dr. Morgan's daughter. She had died when she was 20 years old, 5 years that exact night. She had been found dead in the stables, but the police said she had not died there. No one ever found out what happened, but the main suspect was now dead: the man in the other room.
The girl's body had been cremated, which meant something of hers was still around.
"It could be anything!" Said Dean. "Her clothing's still probably in her closet, her dolls, her journal, everything." They moved up to her bedroom. There were no clothing, it was probably donated. There was no hair brush, no box with baby teeth. There was nothing that could contain her DNA. "Great, now what?"
"Maybe the stables, I have no idea."
Once Sam got to the stables, he found nothing, only her picture on the wall. But that was just his first look. He saw footsteps, from the stables to a little cottage, in the middle of the trees. The light was on.
Clara, one of the usual waitresses in the mansion, was begging for forgiveness. She was "stuck" to the wall, in the dead girl's old room, floating in the air. Linda, the doctor's dead daughter, was holding a knife in her hand, walking towards the scared little bitch she had on a corner. Finally, revenge.
In the cottage, Sam found a woman, crawled up in a corner, scared. "She's back." She said. "She's going to kill us all."
The first man to be killed was Linda's killer. He had kept the scarf she wore that night.
In the kitchen, Dean hit the ghost with an iron cooking utensil. It disappeared from there, but it came back… In the cottage: the other woman she blamed for her death was there, she'd kill her first. But the ghost found Sam. As he reach for the lighter, the ghost pinned him to the wall and turned her attention to the scared woman in the corner.
"You knew." She mumbled. "You knew and did nothing."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Linda's ghost raised her hand, holding a knife, preparing to kill the woman. Iron passed through her and the ghost was gone. But who had done that?
Sam fell on the floor and lite up the lighter and burned the bloody one year old scarf.
"Is she gone?"
"Yeah." Said Marie, with her eyes set on Sam, answering to the woman's question. "She's most likely gone."