Chapter 14: The Spoooky Dentist
Max was walking with a cane between with Sam and George on one side and Dean on the other. "I don't understand," he said, "I already spoke with Homeland Security."
"Right," George spoke, "Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..."
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam asked.
"Like what?" Max asked.
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices," Dean listed.
"No, nothing."
"Mr. Joffey—" Dean started.
"Jaffey," Max corrected.
"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean asked. Max nodded. "Can I ask why?"
"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."
"Uh huh," George nodded skeptically, "And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?"
"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore," Max said.
"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what," Dean said.
"No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things."
"He was seeing things," George said.
"It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please," Sam asked
"There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes," George glanced at Sam. Black eyes? their looks both seemed to say "And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..."
"What?" Dean asked.
"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."
"Yeah," Dean agreed.
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked.
"What are you, nuts?" Sam tilted his head. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." Okay, so it's not a ghost. Well, my job just got 100% harder. Ha, harder. I'm funny.
The Impala pulled up in front of a house. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."
"Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are." All three of them got out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."
"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form."
"Maybe I need glasses, but this does not look like an evil creature from the underworld's lair. Looks like a soccer mom's house." George asked. Sam turned to look at the house.
The three hunters sat across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam was looking at a framed photograph. "This is your late husband?" he asked.
"Yes, that was my George."
"And you said he was a...dentist?" George asked.
"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." She trailed off.
"How long were you married?" Sam asked.
"Thirteen years," Mrs. Phelps replied.
"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"
"Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."
The trio shared looks at each other.
All three of them came down the stairs out front.
"I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense," Sam said.
"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified," Dean replied.
"That's what I was trying to tell you!" George exclaimed, annoyed.
"Yes, George, I know. I could tell from the smug look you had since we first went in," Sam rolled his eyes. George just smirked in retaliation.
"You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage." Dean said.
"Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part," Sam reminded them.
Dean, Sam, and George exited a store, "MORT'S for style". Dean and Sam wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. George was wearing a blazer with a pencil skirt. Sam adjusted his collar.
"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean complained.
"No, you don't. You look more like a..." George trailed off.
"Seventh-grader at his first dance," Sam finished. George laughed and high-fived him.
Dean looked down at himself. "I hate this thing."
George rolled her eyes. "At least you're not itching in places that shouldn't itch!" She scratched her side and looked at Sam. "Don't you know how inconvenient a skirt is?"
"Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked.
Dean started the Impala, Sam already sitting shotgun and George in the back, chewing on a chocolate bar.
They entered the warehouse and showed their badges to the security guard, who nodded and let them in. They walked among plane wreckage; Dean pulled out a device and put earbuds in his ears.
"What is that?" Sam asked.
"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies," George told him.
"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?" Sam asked.
"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean grinned.
"Yeah, I can see that." Dean's grin disappeared.
Dean ran the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and got an audible spike. "Check out the emergency door handle." Dean scratched at the yellow dust and got some on his hand. "What is this stuff?"
"One way to find out." Sam scraped some of the yellow dust off into a bag.
At the security desk, two agents in black suits showed their badges.
"Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?" The guard asked.
"What are you talking about?"
"Three of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago."
The second agent looked at the first.
The agents and several security guards busted in, guns drawn, and searched. Sam, Dean, and George heard them coming. When the agents and security guards arrived, the saw nothing.
Sam, Dean, and George peered around a corner and walked out casually. An alarm blared, and they ran to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, and they climbed over. He grabbed the jacket. "Well, these monkey suits do come in handy," he said. Dean ran off, Sam and George following.
Jerry looked at the yellow stuff through a microscope; what the microscope sees was replicated on a screen. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur."
"You're sure? Sam asked.
"Take a look for yourself."
Banging sounds were heard from outside the office.
"You effin' piece of crap..." A voice said.
"If you fellows will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." As Jerry left, Dean went over and looked into the microscope. "Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down—" Jerry said from outside the room.
"Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue."
"Demonic possession?" Sam asked in his adorable questioning tone. You need to stop, George. Sam is not adorable.
"It would explain how a dentist managed to open an emergency exit with literal tons of pressure on it,"
"If the guy was possessed, it's possible," Sam reasoned.
"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup." Dean smirked and looked over at George. She stuck her tongue out. It's perfectly okay to sleep with all the lights on after watch The Exorcist right before bed even though she's seen way worse shit than that. Right? "I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?"
"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked.
"Never."
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