A/N: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. See prologue for remainder of disclaimer re locations. Feel free to review or PM me, it really makes my day! Sorry for the long wait between updates, life caught up to me so had no time to write. Plus a bit of writer's block. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3
"Fuck, Alex, you are such an asshole!" The young woman fumbled to unbuckle the seatbelt of the Chevy Silverado, fighting off tears. The young man in the driver's seat shot his girlfriend (well, at this point soon to be ex-girlfriend) a glare as he leaned against the seat, reaching for his cellphone. It was beeping incessantly, warning him that someone had texted him. Seeing the teen reach for the mobile device, the young woman became more animate. "See? That's my point! Rather than try to talk to me you spend more time on that fucking phone! Really? You'd rather text your whore?"
"For one, Amy is not a whore, and secondly, that was my mom," Alex spat, stuffing the phone in his jeans pocket. "You're problem is that you're a control freak with serious jealousy issues. Shit, Chrissie, you seriously need to lighten up."
"I had good reason to be jealous! You fucking cheated on me! On our goddamned anniversary!" Chrissie snatched her purse and flung open the door to the pick-up. "Whatever. You two are perfect for each other. Both manipulative and immature." She slammed the door without saying another word and stormed away, leaving the twenty-year-old to slam his fists against the steering wheel in frustration. "So are you!" he yelled, but the response fell on deaf ears as the young woman disappeared from sight.
Alex sighed, pulled out his phone again to respond to the text. Actually, the message had been from Amy, wondering where the young man was. Where r u?
Out. Brb. Alex quickly typed the conveniently ambiguous text and pressed send before tossing the cell on the now empty passenger seat. He looked up, reached back to fasten his seatbelt when suddenly, a beautiful woman appeared, as if out of nowhere, before him. "Well," he murmured, smiling to himself. "Man, she's fucking hot." Indeed, the woman before him was beautiful, with wild auburn hair, emerald eyes, and a white and green sundress, the neckline plunging enough to reveal her rather ample bosom. The material clung to her body, as if she had just stepped out of the water, her full lips parted seductively.
"Come to me," she purred, slowly making her way to the truck. Smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, Alex unlocked the door and the woman made her way inside. Moments later, she was on top of him, running her fingers through Alex's blonde hair and kissing him on the mouth, gently at first, and then passionately, hungrily. Forgetting about Amy, Alex greedily kissed the woman back, his own hands clutching at the auburn locks, then down her throat, eventually caressing the soft, supple breast. The woman, much to Alex's surprise and delight, did not flinch at the touch, only began to whisper in his ear: "Come to me, Alex."
"Fuck, yeah!" Alex murmured, as the beautiful creature began to breathe seductively against his neck. Suddenly, he pushed him against the seat, kissing him one more time. "Come to me."
There was a slight whoosh as the automatic locks clicked into place, and then another whirr as the windows slid closed. At first, Alex didn't notice, still engrossed in the young woman before him. And then, suddenly, he felt a rush of cold at his sandaled feet as water began to fill the cab.
"What the fuck!" Alex finally snapped out of his reverie, looking up to the beautiful girl before him, who was now glaring at him, green eyes filled no longer with passion, but pure hatred. "It's your fault, Nathan," she yelled.
"What is your problem, bitch?" By now, Alex was terrified, the water already well past his ankles and climbing steadily up his leg. But by now, the woman was gone, having vanished as quickly as she had materialized. Panic setting in, the young man reached for the door, but it refused to budge. "Shit, shit, shit…" He tried to lean forward, in hopes of trying the passenger door, but to his horror, Alex realized that he was unable to move, some unseen force pinning him down. By now, the water, cold and murky, was chest deep and rising fast. With nothing left to do, Alex tried desperately to cry for help, but to no avail. He let out one final cry of fear as the water enveloped him. The cab remained submerged until Alex's struggles subsided and began to slowly drain away, leaving the young man slumped against the seat, dead.
XXX
The young couple sat huddled together on the wool blanket, sipping beer from Dixie cups and enjoying each other's company, stealing kisses between drinks. It was a mild late June night, a faint breeze from the harbour refreshingly cool against newly sunburnt skin. In moments, gentle kisses became passionate make out sessions, the warm beer long forgotten. For a while the couple were uninterrupted, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or the whisper of a passing car. It was shortly around 11 at night when suddenly the young girl pushed her boyfriend away, a look of concern in her brown eyes: "did you hear something?"
The young man paused for a moment, heard nothing and pulled the girl closer, trying for another kiss. "Nope. Probably just the wind."
"No. I swear I heard something, like a scream. And I thought I heard a woman's voice, calling out. I think it was a name, Ethan or something like that."
"Are you sure Chelsea? I didn't hear anything."
"Of course you didn't," Chelsea teased with a giggle. "You're hearing with something, all right, but definitely not your ears." She winked and gazed subtly downward, and the young man blushed. "Well, maybe we should check it out." In all honesty, he figured that nothing was wrong, but he really liked Chelsea Alderson, and any excuse to look good in her eyes was good enough for him. Nodding, the young woman rummaged along their bags, pulled out a flashlight, and followed her companion along the path back to the dirt road. She swept the beam back and forth, listening in hopes of finding any clue to pinpoint the noise's origin. Sure enough, a few moments later, they heard it, the sound clear, carrying in the summer wind. "That's a call for help!" Chelsea tugged at the young man's arm. "I knew I wasn't hearing things. Come on Jake!"
As quickly as possible, the two made their way along the road, following the eerie cries. After five minutes, the two stopped before a dark shadow, no doubt a vehicle of some sort. A quick shine of the flashlight confirmed their suspicions and the two carefully made their way over. "Is everything ok?" Jake asked, cautiously approaching the pick-up. Chelsea aimed the beam at the cab, and let out an ear-piercing shriek.
XXX
"So we salted the wrong corpse. Awesome." Dean sighed, feigning frustration, tucking his phony CSIS badge back in his breast pocket. Though troubled that another innocent had been killed the night before, secretly he was pleased that the spirit, or whatever it was, was still out there. The longer the case, the more distracted both he and Sam (though the latter seemed less likely) would be from Dean's ever ticking Doomsday clock. A quick glance beside him revealed that Sam was just as distracted as ever, striding briskly to the crime scene but with a vacant expression in his hazel eyes. Great. The last thing Dean needed was for his brother to be off his A game. Fortunately, by the time the brothers reached the grey Silverado, Sam seemed to be back to his self again.
"What do we got?" he asked the officer on duty, a short balding man with a slight pot belly. His name badge read Constable J. Stewart. The officer was taking a statement from a young couple, writing furiously in his notebook. He looked up when he noticed the Winchesters approaching, and then nodded to the teenagers. "Thank you for your time." He motioned for the brothers to follow him, and the trio walked out of earshot of the couple, Constable Stewart debriefing as they went. "Kids say they were making out a mile or so from the scene when they heard screaming. They got there to find the truck filled with water and or vic dead. No fucking clue how that's even possible, but guess there's a first time for everything, right?" The constable gave a nervous laugh as he flipped through the pages of his notebook. "Anyway, the girl swears she heard a woman's voice calling out someone's name, Ethan or Keegan or something like that."
"Does the victim have anything on him to identify him?" Sam inquired, and Constable Stewart nodded. "Name's Alex LeBlanc. Which surprises me how the girl got Ethan. The names don't sound remotely alike."
"We'd like to ask the witnesses a few questions if you don't mind."
"Knock yourself out," the constable replied wearily, massaging his aching temples. "You won't get much more than I did, but guess there's no harm in trying."
The brothers nodded their thanks and made their way to where the couple was standing, wrapped in a woolen blanket, their faces looking eerie in the red and blue glow of the cruiser's lights. The boys decided to separate their questioning, with Dean taking Chelsea (surprise, surprise, Sam thought with a rather forced grin) and Sam questioning her boyfriend. As expected, there were no real leads, until Dean was nearly finished with his witness.
"One thing I found weird," she muttered, toying nervously with her hair," was this mark on Alex's neck. I swear it was a hickey."
Dean arched an eyebrow, pausing a moment in his writing. "A hickey?"
"Yeah, on the right side of his neck. I'd recognize one a mile away." Grinning somewhat embarrassedly, Chelsea pushed aside some of her thick, sun kissed blonde hair. No denying that the chick's boyfriend had a little fun just before they discovered Alex's body. What a way to kill the mood. Dean nodded, scribbled vic has hickey! on his page and snapped the little booklet shut. "Well, thank you for your time, Miss Alderson. Get some rest, ok? Or maybe your boyfriend will help you out a bit with that." He winked at Sam and Jake who were still chatting in the distance. As if on cue, Dean heard his brother thank Jake and make his way back, a look of frustration on his face. Guess he found out nothing. And all he found out was that someone was making out with Aqua Man right before he died. Not really much to go on.
Well, Dean thought to himself as he eased into the driver's seat of the Impala and turned the key. The muscle car roared into life as his brother settled in his usual spot shotgun. Guess I spoke a tad too soon. Maybe this case wasn't going to be so cut and dry after all.