Chapter 29

The whole 15 minute drive from the theatre to the morgue I was thinking about the tiny corpses lying in a row under the harsh light of the chilly autopsy room. I didn't know why this was affecting me so much. When I had still had the aspirations of going to college with Sam, I had always dreamed of being a nurse. That had been a dream of mine since I was 13, which was why John had bought me the gigantic Gray's Anatomy of the Human Body when I started high school; because he figured he could use this interest of mine for hunting purposes. I was, essentially, the 'army medic'.

He had snuck me into so many autopsy rooms to get my opinions on corpses from the supernatural standpoint when I was in high school and I'd seen many, many more since then. But none of them had been minors; none of them had been kids. I didn't know when I had grown such an affinity to children.

"All right," Dean said as we pulled into the parking lot. He quickly found a free spot as close to the entrance as possible and swung the Impala into the space before killing the engine. "Let's get this over with."

"I think you're going to have to go in there alone," I told him. He turned to look at me curiously.

"Why?" He asked shortly.

"I'm having trouble getting over the fact that it's kids in there." I said. Dean put his hands back on the steering wheel and tapped his fingers against the leather.

"Well, don't think of them as kids." He said. I raised an eyebrow and narrowed my eyes. Until I realized how stupid I looked. Instead I sat straight in my seat and crossed my arms.

"Then tell me how the hell I should think of them." I snapped. A blank look came over his face and he turned to look out the windshield. He took a moment to think of something and then turned his head back to look at me, taking his hands off the wheel.

"Think of them as little people." He said as if it was simple. I gave him my crazy look again and shook my head.

"They're kids, Dean, not midgets." He sighed and got out of the car and made his way over to my side. He opened the door for me and stared down at me as I stared right back. He sighed and shook his head.

"Look, are you going to come in or not?" He asked. I shook my head and he sighed again. "All right then, you leave me to choice."

He looked around to make sure that no one would hear what he had to say next and then he kneeled down closer to me. "I need you to come in with me, Rose. I can't do this without you."

I stared at him for a moment before a smile cracked on my face. Damn him. He knew that saying something that could be subjectively seen as a CFM (chick-flick moment) could make me do practically anything. He didn't do it often but when he did he knew the exact things to say.

He smiled back and grabbed my backpack from my feet as I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. As we walked up to the entrance I realized that carrying my old, black, corduroy backpack from high school probably made our fake credibility questionable but I didn't really give a damn. I'd be damned if I had to start carrying around a briefcase.

...

"Here they are," Dr. Ryce said as he pulled the last occupied gurney out of it's personal refrigerated box. I grabbed one of the clipboards out of his hands and started flipping through the pages so I didn't keep staring at the gurneys.

"How exactly did they die?" I asked.

"Well, seemingly by drowning." I raised an eyebrow and looked up at him curiously.

"Seemingly?" I asked, hoping for clarification. He nodded.

"Well, as you can see in the results of the standard tests we did, their blood acid-base balance was stable and there were no signs of water in the lungs. All their electrolyte levels were normal and their kidney function didn't indicate that they drowned."

"Wouldn't that happen if they dry-drowned?" I asked. Dry-drowning was when somebody inhaled a little bit of water in their lungs. It could be fatal and it could explain possibly how the kids died. Dr. Ryce shook his head.

"There would still be evidence of excess water in their lungs, but there wasn't any. We opened up their lungs and water should have spilled out. I'm telling you, there was no water." I frowned, completely confused.

"Was there anything else abnormal during the autopsy?" Dean asked, clearing his throat. I may know more about this stuff than him, but he's smart enough to understand exactly what this could mean; phantom water.

"Well," he hesitated. "There was something, but there wasn't anything I could make of it."

"Can we see?" I asked. He nodded and went over to the cooler box with a clear glass door. I saw him pass over a bunch of blood vials and he picked up three different vials that were stored in the back. He closed the door and came back over to us, handing each of us a vial and then preparing a slide with the third. I only need one look at the substance inside my vial to know what it was.

"I've never seen anything like this." He said as he put the slide under his microscope. He picked up a remote and used it to turn on a projector which shined and image what was shown on the telescope.

"Where'd you find it?" Dean asked with a flat expression. I could tell that he knew what it was as well.

"In their lungs."

...

"This isn't good Dean," I muttered as I crossed my arms and followed him out the door to the Impala. "First we find ectoplasm in the room where they all show up dead days after their kidnapping and then the doctor finds some in their lungs."

"I never came across any deaths that happened in the theatre," Dean said as he started the car.

"We should go back to the theatre and talk to Dewey. I'm sure he knows more than he was letting on. I mean, did you see how badly he was sweating?" I asked. Dean cringed but nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so." He said. "Does that guy freak you out, too? Or is it just me?"

"No he kinda gives me the creeps, too." I admitted. He reminded me of this gross history teacher I had once in sophomore year. I forget which high school it was at.

"It's definitely a pissed off spirit if there's ectoplasm in their lungs." Dean said as he parked near the theatre. We walked around the corner and we stopped in surprise when we noticed police line blocking the entrance. My heart dropped.

Had another kid been taken? That's the last thing I had expected to happen. We quickly made our way over and flashed our fake badges to one of the cops and he let us slip under the police line. I led the way inside and looked around for a clue as to what happened.

"I can't believe she's gone!" I heard a woman sob.

"Ma'am, please," I turned and saw Shelby sitting on a couch, hunched over her lap with her head in her hands. The young cop next to her seemed really uncomfortable as he tried to figure out what to do. I made my way over to them and figured Dean was following behind.

"I'll take it from here, you go check the perimeter." I told the young cop. He gave me a relieved look and quickly left. I sat down beside Shelby on the couch and Dean pulled over a chair and sat in front of us.

"Shelby," I said softly, "this is my partner, Dean. Can you tell me what happened?"

She was starting to hyperventilate a little from crying so hard but she tried to take deep breaths.

"I was kni-knitting and s-she was there s-still," she broke off and I rubbed her back soothingly.

"Just take a deep breath," I told her. Dean cleared his throat lightly and I looked up at him. He motioned over towards a couple people being questioned and I nodded before he left. Shelby had calmed down enough to sit up and be able to talk without any trouble.

"After you left I took out the scarf I was knitting and watched her for a moment. Then I started knitting and didn't see her sign out for the bathroom. I usually always go with her whenever she signs out for somewhere. And when I looked up again I didn't see her, so I checked the list and saw that she had been gone for half an hour." Her face got all red in anger. "The stage manager didn't remember to check the list."

"Did you check the bathrooms?" I asked. She glared at me.

"Of course I checked the bathrooms!" She snapped. "I checked every frikkin' bathroom in this place, even Dewey's upstairs."

I nodded, not taking offense to her snapping at me. I'd probably be the same way if I was in her place.

"The cops all checked everywhere. There's no signs of her or any sign of a struggle anywhere."

"Can I ask you a couple weird questions?" I asked her. She rubbed her face but nodded.

"Do you know about anyone from years ago who might have died in this theatre? Or any ghost stories about it?" I asked. She stared at me like I was crazy.

"My little sister is kidnapped and might possibly show up dead in a few days and you're asking me about ghost stories?" She asked. I nodded.

"It may not seem like it to you, but this information could be crucial to finding your sister, Amber." She stared at me for a second longer before she sighed in aggravation.

"Uh, yeah, actually." She said after thinking for a moment.

"What do you know?" I asked.

"Well, there were a few that I don't really know about, mostly scattered stage crew members in bad accidents and there's a story about the theatre's ghost lady who wanders the halls at night, but there's one that always freaked me out when I heard the story." She said. "Like, 50 years ago there was this lady who acted in the company but she wasn't any good. She always tried out but she only ever got understudy roles."

I couldn't help but think how this would have anything to do with murdering children.

"Well, she was kind of… unhinged, I guess." Shelby said.

"Crazy?" I asked. Shelby nodded.

"Yeah, basically psychotic. She always had a bunch of boyfriends and slept with a bunch of guys but she was totally in love with one of the lead actors. He was completely stuck in his arrogant world and never gave her the time of day. She would always send him flowers and creepy things like the hair from her shower drain or underwear that she had worn the night before when she was all along, if you catch my drift. She left him all this gross stuff in his dressing room, I guess because she considered it a token of her affection or whatever."

My nose was crinkled in disgust as I stared at her in horror. "And he didn't get a restraining order against her?"

Shelby let out a sarcastic laugh. "Right? Well, one night, after years of the creepy gross stuff, she gave him this super expensive bottle of alcohol after a show and he started drinking it. He got super smashed and she went in his dressing room to congratulate him on a job well done. He slept with her and got her pregnant. He didn't remember it, 'cus he was so drunk."

"Understandable," I added.

"Well after the kid was born he still denied that he ever slept with her and it started driving her even more insane than she all ready was. When the kid was five she just snapped. She drowned the poor kid and then hung herself in the guy's dressing room. But it turns out, after further investigation, she had drowned the wrong child. There's an informational mural on the wall over there." She pointed across the house.

"That's horrible," I said, vaguely wondering which dressing room was his. I knew we needed to get back to the room with the fake vent and scan for any EMF readings. But first I had to read that wall. Something was calling me to it, I couldn't explain it. "I need to find my partner but I'll call you if I figure anything out."

I got up to leave but Shelby grabbed my wrist and turned me back around to face her.

"Why did you want to know about that?" She asked. I could only give her a blank look. "I mean, I just realized the connection with the drowning kids. Something weird is going on here and I know you know something, otherwise how would you know to ask about that?"

I could think of anything to tell her other than what came out of my mouth. "I really need to go find my partner."

I pulled my wrist out of her grasp and walked away, feeling horrible for not being able to answer her questions. I ran over to the mural and scanned the paragraphs painted in some Shakespearean calligraphy. I caught up with Dean and by the look on his face I wondered if he had heard the same story that I just did. I told him to follow me.

"Hey, so what did she say?" Dean asked as he followed me into the auditorium.

"Her sister checked out to go to the bathroom and never came back." I said. "What did you find out."

"Basically the same thing, except that I found out why the stage manager forgot to look at the check in/out sheet." He pressed his thumb and forefinger together before bringing them to his lips and pretending to inhale a joint. I rolled my eyes.

"Figures," I muttered. "Well, guess what else I found out?"

I stopped outside the room with the fake vent and started looking for the keys in my backpack. I took out the EMF reader and handed it to Dean before I found the keys. I opened the door and we snuck under the tape, closing the door behind us quietly.

Dean turned on the meter but I could all ready tell that the room felt different than before. He started waving it around the room trying to find a reading while I started telling him the story.

"There're readings coming from the vent," Dean said just as I was finishing.

"Really?" I said. I always kinda got a little excited when things started really picking up. I guess you could probably say that I got off on it… the adrenaline, geeze. Ok, and maybe it got me that kind of 'excited', too, but can you really blame me?

Rosemary, you're sick! A kid's life is at stake here and you're thinking about copulating with your boyfriend? I took a deep breath and tuned back into the real world.

"So, if what Shelby was saying is true, I think this is the lead actor's old dressing room. I remember Dewey saying something on the tour about how the box office, auditorium and stage had gotten completely renovated twenty-five years ago, but the house, the apartment upstairs and the dressing rooms just got some new paint and a couple additions." I smirked up at Dean as I knocked on the wall underneath the vent. I grinned when it sounded hollow on the other side.

...

"But we can't just knock it down!" I argued five minutes later. Dean looked at me like I was crazy.

"Why not? The girl could be behind there. Are you that insane, Rosemary?" Dean asked. I shook my head and grabbed the screwdriver from before and made Dean undo the vent. He took it off and held me up so I could shine my flashlight inside. "You think the kid's in the vent?"

"No," I said, "I think there's no evidence that the spirit has been through here. And I'm right."

He put me down and started screwing the vent back on.

"What do you mean?" He said. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

"I don't think this is where she's manifesting to steal the kids. Last time we opened that up, I wiped up all the ectoplasm that had been in there. If she manifested here or even passed through here more than once there would at least be the horrid smell of it, if not another gooey glob. It's completely clean."

"So, then what does that tell us?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"I think that this is the room where she killed herself, the lead actor's dressing room. They had this billboard on the wall that said that they closed up the bathroom that everything had gone down in." I knocked the wall again. "I mean, come on."

"Right, so why can't we knock it down, again?" He asked.

"Because Amber's not in there." I told him. "She's in the hidden hallways somewhere in the upstairs apartments."

"The what?" Dean asked. "Seriously? How do you know?"

"Yeah, because do you know who Dewey is? The real reason for the renovations and probably a horrible causing factor in all this stirring up?" I asked. Dean frowned.

"He's the son of the actress, isn't he?" Dean asked. I nodded.

"He bought the theatre 25 years ago, put it through the renovations, closed up the bathroom. He told us that he had just finished renovating his apartment upstairs right before all this started happening." Dean nodded. "And it said on the mural that he had been found hiding in the walls upstairs."

"And what the hell does any of that have to do with you finding my sister, Agent Petty?" Dean and I froze and slowly turned to see Shelby standing in the doorway.

...

...

Ahh! I'm sorry it took so long to update. I wanted to update sooner. But now hopefully I'll get back to the usual Sunday/Wednesday updates. I'll really try. Thank you, everyone who reviewed the last chapter and to the new subscribers! Can I get more reviews this time?

I forgot to mention last chapter that Miss Shelby is based off a very loyal and lovely reader/reviewer.

The story is starting to come to a close and I was wondering how many of you wanted a sequel. A sequel would coincide with Season 1 of the show which means Sam would come back :). Leave me a review and let me know what you guys think.

heartyou! -Erin