"Hey, Dean," Sam said, looking over to her brother, who was sitting on the edge of his bed "Take a look at this."
Dean turned around and saw Sam turned to face him, his laptop open, showing a newspaper.
"Local woman dies in bizarre accident," Dean read aloud, "Anegletta Carter, 25, died in her house last night in what appears to be a household accident. Sources say she fell into a mirror. Authorities decline to comment." After a moment he said, "Why do authorities always decline to comment? I mean, really, how are it to say, 'yes, she fell into a mirror?'"
Sam gave him an annoyed look. "That's not the point Dean."
"Then what is the point?" Dean asked, "I mean falling into a mirror, sure it's weird but not so that it's something supernatural."
"Sure, on its own it looks like nothing," Sam granted, turning his computer back around and pulling something up, "But," He turned the laptop back around revealing two more articles, "When you add two other people falling into their mirrors in the same town only a few weeks before..."
"Okay," Dean admitted, "That is weird, I mean, weirder."
"And that's just the tip of the iceberg," Sam said.
An hour later both Sam and Dean were lying on the beige floor of their motel room, over two dozen articles, police reports, obituaries and pictures scattered on the floor. Along with several more incidents of people "falling into their mirrors" at least twenty people had been murdered in their house with no sign of forced entry, no sign of any entry whatsoever, sixteen wild animal mauling, though no animal was ever found, and more than a few corners notes suggesting spontaneous combustion on undetermined deaths.
"Okay, I'm calling it." Dean said, getting up off the floor, "This is defiantly our thing. Now, where's this happening?"
"In a town called Salem's Rock, Missouri," Sam answered.
"We can be there by tomorrow," Dean said, walking to up to gather his things.
Dean was right. They did get there by the next morning They were on their way to the coroner's office when an ambulance whizzed by them. Normally they would have just kept on going, but giving the rate of "accidents" in this town, Dean pulled a possibly illegal u-turn and literally chased the ambulance to the hospital.
When they got there they found their suspicions well founded, because as the man was being rushed to the operating room, not only could they seem something had cut him to ribbons, they overheard a nurse say, "It's another mirror thing."
"What the hell is going on?!" A doctor said, running up the cart, "It's like The Happening in this town!"
Sam and Dean look at each other and then Sam said, "That guy's got a point."
"Yeah, but a neurotoxin wouldn't explain the incinerated victims." Dean said, "We need to talk to that guy."
"Uh, Dean," Sam began, "He's a little indisposed at the moment."
"Well, not right now," Dean said, "We get the guys name, go to the coroner's office like we plan, then we swing to by to see if he pulls through."
Putting their plan in action, they went to the coroner's office, claiming to be from the Sheriff's department. "The families have claimed the bodies of most of the people you've asked about," The coroner, a man with a long face and razor-parted brown hair began, "But I still have four of them." He pulled out the drawer revealing a body mauled being recognition. "Andrew Cummingham," He declared, then pulled open another door, revealing a pile of ash and a few bones, "John Doe," He pulled opened the next one, a large man with a shaved head who's chest appeared to have been ripped open, "Eric Brand," He pulled the final drawer open a cut-up young woman with honey blonde hair, "And Angeletta Carter."
"Alright," Dean said, "Let's start with Miss Carter. What happened to her?"
"From the looks of it, she fell into the mirror in bedroom," The coroner said.
"How did she manage to do that?" Sam asked.
"Well, we're not sure," The coroner said, "But we think she must've tripped, on what I can't tell you."
"And no one heard anything, saw anything?" Sam replied.
"Miss Carter lived alone," The coroner explained, "A neighbor said she heard some screaming but though it was a horror movie or something."
"And who was this neighbor?" Sam asked.
Thirty minutes later Sam and Dean had at six possible leads to look into. But first things first they first, they swung back the hospital. "Excuse me," Sam said to the woman at the front desk, "We're with the Sheriff's Department, we wanted to know the man who was brought in after falling into a mirror."
"Oh, this one didn't fall in," The woman said looking at him with wide blue eyes, "It landed on top of him."
"On top of him?" Sam repeated in the form of a question, "How'd that happen?"
"No one knows," The woman said.
"Well, the man-" Sam began.
"Mr. Roberts." The woman said.
"Yeah, ah, Mr. Roberts, did he make it out of surgery?" Sam asked.
"Yes," The woman said, "But he's still in recovery. I think you can see him in an hour, though."
An hour later the later, the two brothers walked into the a hospital room, where a man, his body covered in bandages, hazel eyes peeking out from them, laid in a hospital bed.
"Excuse me, William Roberts?" Dean asked.
"Yes?" The man murdered weakly through the bandages.
" I'm Officer Smith, this is Officer Casey," Dean said, gesturing back in forth between himself and Sam with a badge, "We'd like to talk to you about your accident."
"Why would the cops care about a mirror falling on someone? William Robert asked.
"Well," Dean began, walking up to the bed, "A lot people seem to be having bad luck with mirrors lately around here."
"Sir," Sam added in, "What exactly happened?"
William Robert's eyes moved around the room before looking down, saying, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Oh, you'd be surprised what we'd believe," Dean told him.
The bandaged man paused for a minute then said, " I washing my face, and had looked up in the mirror, you know? Suddenly my reflection just turned into this-this-black mass, like a shadow almost."
As the Mr. Roberts took a breath, Sam and Dean exchange looks. "A shadow?" Dean asked.
" I told you wouldn't believe me," William Roberts said.
"No, Mr. Roberts, we do," Sam reassured him, "What happened next?"
"The thing reached out and ...grabbed me," Mr. Roberts said, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying, "I tried to fight it off but it was...so strong, and it was like it was trying to...pull me into the mirror, but that thing has never been nailed on good and as I was fighting...for my life...the thing fell on me. "
"And after the mirror fell on you," Sam said, "What happened then?"
"Well, I was unconscious after that," William Roberts said, " But they told me my wife found me and called 911."
"Well, thank you, Mr. Roberts," Dean said, "We'll be sure to look into this."
"A shadow that comes out of the mirror," Sam said as they walked back to the car, "Have you ever heard of anything like that?"
"No, you?" Dean ask, though he knew what the answer would be.
"No." Sam said, "Maybe the other leads will be able to clear thing up."
The next person they went to was the neighbor that heard Angeletta screaming, Emily Mansfield, an elderly woman with skin the color of brown rice and white hair in a neat bun.
"You said you heard screaming the night Angeletta had her accident," Dean said, trying to get comfortable on her plastic covered couch.
"Yes," Mrs. Mansfield said, "I heard a woman screaming , I'm not entirely sure what was being said, but it sounded like help me, oh God, help me. My neighbor's practically deft, so I thought he just watching a horror movie with the sound turned up or something but when I heard about what happened to poor Angeletta the next morning, I started to wonder..." Her eyes cased downward and they could tell she felt a little guilty.
"There was no way you could've known," Sam reassured her, "Mrs. Mansfield, did you know Ms. Carter?"
"Just from the neighborhood," Mrs. Mansfield replied, "I didn't know her that well."
"So you wouldn't know if she had any enemies?" Dean asked. They hadn't ruled out witchcraft. This could be the result of some sort of spell that got out of hand. That, or some witch had an ax to grind with half the town.
"No, I wouldn't," Mrs. Mansfield said apologetically, "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."
"It's alright, ma'am," Sam said, standing up, "Thank you for your time."
Then they went to the motel where John Doe had been staying.
"I don't know what more I can tell you," The manager at motel, a plumb man with thinning brown hair, said, "I the guy signed in under the name of Eli Brooks, and from what I heard around town, that turned out to be fake."
"And there was nothing in the room that gave any clue to real identity?" Dean asked.
"Well, the cops found fifty other ids in there, I even saw an FBI badge when I showed them the room," The manager said, "And there was all this crazy stuff on the walls. They even pulled out a shot gun from under the bed. No wonder the guy got himself killed."
"Do you, ah, know if the police still have all this stuff?" Dean asked.
When they asked for the contents of John Doe's room at the police evidence locker, then officer running it presented them with four large boxes. "Well," Sam said holding a sawed-off up in the air, "I guess this the rifle the manger was talking about," He looked down and the box an added, "Or maybe the other one is."
"Man, dude with two shot guns, a man after my own heart," Dean said, looking through a mountain of fake ids, he held up one for Department of Wildlife and said, "I'd like to know who made these."
"Hey, Dean," Sam said, taking out one of the ammo in the second rifle and taking the lid off, "I think these are salt rounds."
"Let me see that," Dean said.
Sam handed the round over to Dean who looked in open inside, put his finger in the white stuff inside, and liked it off her finger. "Yeah," He declared, "That's definitely salt." Then he looked up and saw Sam looking at him like he had lost his mind. "What?"
"Dude, what if that hadn't been salt?" Sam asked.
"What else would it have been?" Dean replied.
"Some sort of poison," Sam pointed out, "Drugs like crack, or meth..."
"Alright, I get the point," Dean said, then he noticed something else in the one of boxes. "Spying in the mirror?"
Sam looked up. "What?"
"Something John Doe, of Eli Brooks or whatever his name is wrote," Dean said, "Then for some reason he crossed it out. There's a lot of stuff like that on here. What can travel through mirrors and incinerate people?" Then there's a both of stuff that's scribbled out so much I can't read he's got circle, it's more than one type of creature. That's why the deaths vary. " Dean looked up at Sam as everything clicked in his mind, "This guy was investigating whatever's going on in this town."
"More than that," Sam said, "I think this guy was hunter."