Sam and Dean Winchester and any other random Supernatural characters, belong to Kripke Enterprises, Inc. and the CW, not me. I won't damage them and I'll put them back when I'm done.
A/N: There will be certain passages in this chapter where Latin and then a Latin translation will be spoken. In those passages assume that Sam is speaking the Latin and Dean is speaking the English.
Hunters Moon
Chapter 12
Deane House Hunt
IN ILLO tempore: Dixit Jesus discipulis suis: Euntes in mundum universum, predicate Evangelium omni
(At that time Jesus said to His disciples: "Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to all)
creatureae. Qui crediderit, et baptizatus fuerit, salvus crit: qui vergo non crediderit, condemnabitur.
(creation. He that believes and is baptized will be saved: he that does not believe will be)
Signa autem eos, qui crediderint, haec sequentur: In nomine meo daemonia ejicient: Linguis loquentur
(condemned. And in the way of proofs of their claims, the following will accompany those who)
novis: serpents tollent: et si mortiferum quid biberint, non eius nocebit: super aegros manus imponent, et
(believe: in my name they will drive out demons: they will speak in new tongues: they will take up)
(serpents in their hands, and if they drink something deadly, it will not hurt them: they will lay)
bene habebunt.
(their hands on the sick, and these will recover.)
John 1:1-14
King James Version of the Bible
Sam, Dean and Ayamis sat in the Impala in front of her dorm building. Even since the stereo "No" from the brothers to Ayamis' request to go ghost hunting with them, the temperature in the car had verged on the icy. It had nothing to do with the weather. Ayamis sat with her arms crossed, stubbornly staring straight ahead.
Every attempt by Sam to start a conversation had been rebuffed and now they were all caught in the moment between movement and dispersal. Dean knew his brother would be a miserable, self-doubting idiot unless this was settled so he threw himself into the eye of the matrimonial storm.
"Look, Ayamis." he started.
She turned and looked at him and he had the urge to zip his jacket up. Damn, those children were going to get a double dose of bull headedness. He soldiered on.
"Sam is just trying to keep you and your children safe." He got a huff out of her and Sam got his hovering hand slapped away.
"You don't quite understand the danger. It is not because you are a woman. It isn't even because you aren't trained. It is because of the unborn children you carry." Dean said.
Ayamis looked a little more interested, at least. She wasn't ignoring him and raised eyebrows encouraged him to go on. He decided not to mention how the eyebrow trick was so Sam-like.
"We don't know exactly what is going on at this Deane House Haunt but we both expect it to be something nasty." Dean told her.
Ayamis finally lowered her arms and reached to take Sam's hand. "It's not because I don't believe you. It's because you both yelled at me without even giving me a chance to discuss my request. I am not someone that either of you have a right to order around."
Sam said, "I know. I shouldn't have jumped in like that but you scared me. This could be so dangerous on so many different levels for you. If you want to go on a hunt we can certainly take you on one but we want to pick that one out for you."
Dean cleared his throat, preparing to speak. "There is something you need to know. We can protect you with an amulet from possession but we can't protect the babies."
"Demons and even some ghosts would regard those babies as unprotected new life. New life is what these creatures crave. I can't imagine anything worse than being possessed in the womb. Even if we were able to purge the child of the entity after birth, the psychological damage would be extensive. I assume the child would be born insane."
Ayamis drew in a shocked breath. "Is that even possible? What an ugly, dangerous world you live in that you can even imagine these things."
Sam ran his fingers through the back of her hair. "I really hoped we could keep some of this stuff from you but, yes, in utero possession is possible. There is a lot of lore relating to the "Devil's child" legends. The Jersey Devil is only one example. Please don't ask to come, for the sake of our babies."
She pushed at Dean. "Please move and open the door. I wouldn't come with you guys now if you paid me. I complete agree about staying as far away from your 'hunt' as I can get. "
XXXXXXX
After setting up Ayamis in her room and leaving last minute instructions about salt and amulets and always keeping her cell phone charged, and so on and so on. Dean was finally able to drag Mother Hen Sam away.
It was then early evening and they decided to go over and take a look at the Deane House. Calgary was no New York City but it still took them a little time to figure out how to get to the house on the other side of the Elbow River. Once they got there Dean decided he didn't like the look of the place at all.
They parked on the street and stood leaning on the car.
"Creepy." Dean muttered. Even from across the street the two experienced hunters knew there was something wrong with that house. It stared back at them through half shaded windows like partially closed eyes.
If it hadn't been radiating evil at the Hunters it might have been a nice looking house, It consisted of two stories with a large veranda like front porch of white pillars and railings and steps wide enough for the Preservation Society to divide them down the middle and make a 'Entrance' side and an Exit' side.
The last of the Historical Park visitors were walking down the porch stairs and standing on the sidewalks. Dean just caught sight of a vaporous body sprawled on the steps. The visitors walked right through it. The body flickered at each tread and a few visitors clutched at their jackets or sweaters as if fending off a sudden chill.
"Well, that's got to go." Sam muttered to his brother.
"No shit." Dean answered. "Are you going to walk this house first?"
"No, I don't want to go in as a pure spirit without protection and The Sphinx might just possibly be more troubling than useful. There is something in there spoiling for a fight."
"Nice. We better go in loaded for bear." Dean replied.
"If we're lucky it will only be a bear." Sam muttered back. "This place has too many ghosts. Something is holding them here. Let's take hex bags in too. I want to purify each story. The Preservation Society is just going to have to put up with a few holes in the walls."
They moved to the trunk and started loading up. A duffle might become difficult to hold on to among so many spirits but they started with it just to get the shot guns across the street without the neighbors calling the cops
Hex bags went into pockets. Sam held out parchments printed with Exorcisms. Dean hung protective amulets in the shape of medieval sigils around their necks. Bags of salt went in the duffle but the drawstrings holding the bags closed could be hung from an arm or a shoulder. They had no good idea of what they were going to find so they took everything they knew to use.
They continued to watch until the tour guides came out and one of them locked the front door. It was almost fully dark now and soon that house would be all theirs. Either it would be theirs or it would take them.
XXXXXXX
Once inside, using the keys that the Society and the Restaurant owner had given them, they started their tour. Earlier that afternoon they had made a 'manifestations check list' and had laid out a plan. They were going to release the little boy in the attic first.
They had finally decided to put the porch steps figure last, on their way out, to cut down on the time that they would be exposed to the noisy neighbor types out there.
On their way up the stairs they were passed by the Black Cape ghost on his never ending rush to get out the front door. Tonight, however, it ran into a thick line of salt in its path and as it went past Sam he had thrown a hand full of salt at it. The ghost paused in its never ending hurry and flickered out of existence.
They continued on up and found the little attic door at the top of the last staircase. They entered a wide attic space, dark and hot from the day's sun and full of floating dust. Sam felt the oppression and grieved for the child, held here in torment by an unknown force. He wondered if the boy still had epileptic fits or if he had been released from that suffering by death.
They followed the weeping to the small attic window and saw him sitting on the ledge, still wearing a ghostly simulacrum of the rope he had used to hang himself. Sam knelt beside him and extended a hand.
"I don't know what the other force in this house is but I think that we are as far from it as we can get and still be in the house. This little guy has been ready to go for a long time and it is only cruelty that holds him here. That and his own belief that he learned from his Jewish father; he can't let go until he has permission." Sam lowered his hand. "I think we can give him that. Look for the line from the Jewish prayers for the dead. Look for the passage from the Yazkor"
Dean flipped through his parchments and showed Sam a page. Sam nodded and then took both Dean's hand and attempted to take the hand of the ghost. They lowered their heads and repeated three times
Have mercy upon him; pardon all his transgressions…Shelter his soul in the shadow of your wings. Make known to him the path of life.
At each repetition, the form of the little boy shuddered and thinned. On the third his faint form faded away.
"I am going to put the cap on the bottle." Sam told Dean. "I can't feel him anywhere now but just to make sure he stays on his path and isn't recovered by the beast in this house…" Sam started again:
God, filled with mercy, dwelling in the heavens' heights, bring proper rest beneath the wings of your Shechinah, amid the ranks of the holy and the pure; illuminating like the brilliance of the skies the soul of our beloved and our blameless who went to his eternal place of rest. May You who are the source of mercy, shelter him beneath your wings eternally, and bind the soul among the living, that he may rest in peace. And let us say, Amen.
The sense of oppression lifted in the attic. Although still dark there was a feeling of lightness all around them; a joy at release, a hope of redemption.
"One down," Dean chortled. He was so pleased that he let his glow light up a touch. Sam immediately pulled him over and held one hand behind Dean's neck. Sam rested his forehead against Deans'.
"Do us both a favor, big brother." Sam said and then leaned Dean's head back and licked a long strip up his neck. "Turn that off until we get out of here. Besides distracting me I don't want the beast in this house deciding it would like to keep you as a pet. Be more careful."
"Ok," Dean responded, shocked. He thought that it was only the Sphinx that wanted him that way but, as he just learned, it seemed to be affecting normal Sam too. "What's next on the list?"
He shuddered with the remembered caress and wanted to return the favor but Sam was being serious now. He let it go, something to look forward to after the hunt.
Sam sat down on an old trunk and pulled out his penlight. "After we place the hex bags in these corners I think we had planned the Stairway ghost next but I've been thinking. If we just keep going at this one spirit at a time I'm pretty sure we're going to find more of them. I think we should try to get at the root of the problem."
"I think it's that old fake Indian in the basement with his 'sacred ground' bull crap. A real guardian spirit would have stayed with his ground when the house was moved, not traveled along with the house. Let's go down and see if we can kick his ass out of here."
"Fine with me," Dean responded and headed out of the attic and down the staircases. They found the cellar door in the kitchen. Opening it released a smell of old mildew and ancient cardboard. There was a light switch and to their surprise, it worked.
Sam put out a hand and blocked entry. "Can you hear that muttering?"
Dean tried but nothing came to him.
Whatever was down there sent out waves of darkness. The last thing in the world they wanted to do was go down there and face this thing but this is what they did. More importantly, this is what they were.
"They started the chant and response of the beginning of their Exorcism because Sam was sure that a demon was what they were facing.
Sam: Domine, exaudi orationem mcam
Dean: And let my cry be heard
Sam: Dominus vobiscum
Dean: May he also be with you.
The chant got them to the bottom of the stair where they could finally see their target. It still appeared as a venerable Indian elder with long dark hair and a proud presence. Sam extended his hand and the creature appeared to find it interesting.
Over his shoulder he whispered to Dean. "Try to get a salt ring around it."
Sam went on with the Oremus Oratio:
Omnipotens Domine, Verbum die Patris, Christe Jesu, Deus et Dominus universae creaturae; qui sanctis Apostolis tuis dedisti potestatem calcandi super serpentes et scorpiones: qui inter cetera….
Dean could hear Sam chanting in the background as he completed the first of the salt circles. He had laid it down tuathal, against the spirit. Now he wanted to go back and lay another circle deiseal, favoring those outside the circle.
In Scottish Gaelic deiseal means "sunwise" or clockwise. Considered a "Prosperous Course" it could be used to confirm blessing by circling an area or person 3 times in a clockwise direction. The opposite course, tuathal, was against the light or when you could not see your own shadow. By Scots lore walking in this direction was considered bad luck. .
They had found, through trial and error that such salt circles could function as temporary 'devil's traps'. They would not hold long, perhaps long enough to save your life. Whatever they had trapped inside was thoroughly confused by Sam's chant and Dean's actions.
It did not know which to look at first. It started to slowly spin in place, growing more and more distorted. It had dwelt here for more than a century, feeding on the unfortunate spirits it trapped in the house. Now these interlopers had cut it off from the source of its power.
Dean could hear things happening upstairs. There were cries and crashes and it felt like the whole house was shaking.
Sam's chant went on:
." …mirabilium tuorum praecepta dignarus es dicere: Daemones effugate : cujus virtute motus tamquam fulgur de caelo satanas cecidit: tuum sanctum nomen cum timore et tremor suppliciter deprecor, …."
Dean worked feverishly. He was chalking out devils' trap circles outside the salt lines with red chalk from his pocket. The demon, Dean had finally decided on demon, focused on him. It growled as each mark was traced out on the concrete floor of the cellar. It slowed its spinning and pointed at him. He felt as if something was crawling up his arms and resisted the urge to shake them.
Sam shouted "Dean, start your Exorcism"
Dean started:
"I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Begone and stay far from the creatures of god for it is He who commands you…
He could hear Sam repeating the same Exorcism in Latin and their voices rose together in the dank cellar, exerting all the strength of their belief in the power of the words backed by the power of their spirits.
The demon could not stand against them and vibrated faster and faster and then exploded . A wind blew through the cellar and all the foul shreds of the creature were swept up in a whirlwind and sucked into the floor. Dean rose to his feet.
"Ready to go upstairs and check on the rest of the crew?" he asked Sam.
They walked through the house, stopping only to plant hex bags in the walls and checking on the small signs of destruction. They could not find a sign of a single ghost. No one rushed down the stairs, there were no visions of murder in the upstairs hallways, the smoke was gone from the parlor and the chair in the window no longer rocked. When freed from the demon the sprits had wasted no time getting out of the house. Dean peeked through a window and did not see a body on the steps.
"I just want to do one more thing, Dean, then we can go" , Sam said and stood in the center of the front room and recited:
A Prayer for the Forgotten Dead
O merciful god,
Take pity on those souls
Who have no particular friends and intercessors
To recommend them to Thee, who,
Either through the negligence of those who are alive,
Or through length of time are forgotten
By their friends and by all.
Spare them, O Lord,
And remember Thine own mercy,
When others forget to appeal to it,
Let not the souls which Thou hast created
Be parted from thee, their Creator.
ooOoo
May the souls of all the faithful departed,
Through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen