Congratulations, a longer chapter than lately still put together the next day.

Hell House

After the girl hit the guy for daring to say he could touch her, she stormed into the house after the others. This house was really weird. Some kind of symbols were painted on the walls, weird symbols with everything covered in dust. "No way, look at this stuff." Craig said amazed before leading them to the next room. "They say that it lives in the root cellar. It goes after girls, always girls. It just strings them up."

"They say, who's they!" One of the guys scoffed. "Where'd you hear this crap?"

Craig rolled his eyes. "I told you, my cousin!" He snapped, having already explained this.

"And where did she hear it?" The second guy demanded.

"I don't know, she just heard it." He said, reaching another door.

The first guy smirked, snatching the flashlight from Craig. He opened the basement door and went down, followed one by one by the others. "Look, it's the evil root cellar." He marked. "You know where Satan cans all his vegetables." Laughing, he turned to face his friends who all looked reasonably scared, eyes darting around and huddled together. "I don't see anything scary, do you?" Then he took in they're faces slowly becoming more terrified as they seemed to be staring behind him. "What?" He turned around only to come face to...legs with a girl hanging from the rafters by a rope around her neck. He did the only thing he could do.

He screamed.

A few days later, I sat in the back seat of the impala, driving towards Texas where another case was. Dean was driving as usual and Sam was slumped against his door sleeping. ME: I think I'm gonna have 2 kill myself, Dean's music is driving me insane. I texted to Derek. We've been texting constantly since a few days after his accident with those kidnapping hillbillies.

Derek: Nah, don't do that. Then I'd never see your pretty face again.

I grinned a little. Derek was always trying to flirt like that although from the times we've been together, I've been noticing how he only seemed to do it around me. How his eyes never trailed far to the other girls with they're face hair styles, perfect skin, and low cut tight dresses that Dean usually went for. I stopped texting when I saw Dean doing something and moved to the edge of my seat. "What are you doing?"

Dean violently jumped, nearly losing the old plastic spoon from last week's meal. "Don't do that." He hissed, before carefully easing the old spoon into the sleeping Sam's mouth. I started to grin a little and took a few pictures with my phone. Dean nodded approvingly. I flinched as Dean turned the music way up loud and starting singing at the top of his lungs.

Sam jerked awake, feeling something odd in his mouth. He panicked, waving his owns around for a minute before managing to spit it out. I laughed loudly at the funny faces he's made while doing so. Dean was grinning widely as he turned the music back down. "Haha, very funny." Sam glowered.

"I know, right." I showed him the picture I took. He reached quickly for my phone to try deleting the picture but I snapped my phone back before he could reach it.

"It's not like there's a lot of scenery here in East Texas." Dean said and I looked out the window. We just endlessly seemed to go by empty fields, seriously, I didn't even see any horses or cows. "Kinda gotta make your own.

"Man, we are not kids anymore." Sam snapped around. "We're not going to start that crap up again."

This conversation just got a whole lot more interesting. "What stuff?" I demanded nosily. Hey, I was a sister, I had a right to be nosy if I wanted.

"This prank war crap we used to do." Sam snapped. I grinned excited, I could pull a good prank or two back in the day. "It's stupid and it always escalates." My favorite kind.

"Aww," Dean mocked. "Sammy's just scared he's gonna get a little nair in his shampoo again."

My eyes widened, "You put hair removal in his shampoo?" Why didn't I ever think of that one before?

Dean grinned proudly, "It took forever for his hair to grow back."

Sam's male pride wouldn't allow him to back off. "Alright, just remember you started it."

"Oh, you know I'm in." I rubbed my hands together, already thinking what I could be doing.

Dean laughed. "Bring it on baldy, sweetheart."

ME 2 DEREK: I think I just entered myself into a prank war against my brothers.

Sam grabbed up the files we spent last night making. That was probably why I was more tired than usual. As I thought this, I let out a huge yawn. "Alright, about a month or two ago, this group of kids go poking around in this local haunted house.

"Haunted by what?" Dean asked.

"Someone who really hates girls." I muttered, looking down at my phone again. DEREK 2 ME: u gonna win?

"I'm guessing a pretty misogynistic spirit." Sam started the explanation. "Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters." I put a hand to my neck rubbing it a little, imagining a rope too tight around it and I involuntary shivered. "Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?" Dean asked.

"They never got the chance to." I said, quickly lowering my hand from my neck.

Sam clarified. "By the time the cops got there the body was gone." This whole thing just seemed to scream supernatural influence. "So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains."

"Maybe the cops are right?" Dean asked, poking holes in the plan of going to Texas and trying to stop what may not even be there.

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere." Sam said. Yeah, I thought, as if kids didn't spent half they're lives lying. I know I did.

"You shouldn't believe that website." I said, having caught him on it last night at the motel.

"What website?" Dean asked and Sam flushed a little so I grinned.

"Go ahead, tell him Sammy."

Clearly embarrassed, Sam stuttered, "Well I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So last night, I surfed some local...paranormal website, and I found one."

I was enjoying his discomfort a little to much. "You forgot to tel him the name.

Sam glared at me. "Hell Hounds Lair . Com."

I laughed as I did every time I heard or thought of that name, which I've been randomly doing all day. At least Dean now know why I had been laughing today. Dean found it funny to, chuckling as he grinned. "Lemme guess, streaming live out of mom's basement."

Sam grinned, finally realizing again. "Yeah, probably."

"How much you wanna bet they are." I teased. Know way dorks like on that wasn't still living with mommy.

"Well I agree with Chris back there about paying attention to those sites." Dean looked at me in the rearview mirror. "Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it but em in the persqueeter." I rolled my eyes. Who said 'persqueeter' anymore. I only heard that word once when I was stuck briefly with a family that seemed permanently stuff in the fifties. Probably why they gave me up a few days later. I wouldn't wear the old timey dresses or cook or 'be seen but never heard'.

"Look, we let dad take off." Sam started the 'dad' topic we'd all been avoiding the last month or so. "And now we don't know where the hell he is so meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out."

"Just be happy we know he's alive." I leaned against the door.

"So where do we find these kids?" Dean asked as we were rolling into town.

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."

The sun started to drop and it was complete dark by the time we reached our destination in town. It was a relatively small town so there wasn't many places to do anything. Which is how we ended up at one of the three diners this town had. The place was crowded with kids so it made it harder for me to find the right kid. The boys and I split up to talk to each kid before going over what they told us.

The guy Dean talked to outside said it "Was the scariest thing he ever saw. That the walls were painted red. All those freaky symbols, pentagons. But I can damn sure tell you no matter what nobody else says...blonde...kicking! One hundred percent."

The guy I found on the other side of the counter working said "The walls were painted black. Crosses and stars, pentacostoals. With the black...without even moving! And kinda hot well, you know, in a dead sort of way."

The girl at an inside table told Sam she "Thought it was blood. I had my eyes closed the whole time. Red hair, just hanging there. She was real."

But they all had one single thing in common with they're stories. The one who had told them about the place: Craig.

Craig worked at the local music shop so that was our next stop the next morning when they opened. "We're looking for Craig Thurston? That happens to be you?" I asked the guy behind the counter. He seemed to be the only one actually working.

"I am." The teenager with curly brown hair nodded.

"Well we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News." Dean easily lied on the spot. "I'm Dean, this is Sam, and that's Chris."

"No way." Craig said excited. "I'm a writer too."

"Is that so?"

"I write for my school's lit magazine." Craig said like it was the most amazing thing in the world. But for a town this big, it probably was.

"We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one."

"You mean the hell house?" Craig asked.

"Exactly." I agreed just as Dean said. "That's the one."

Craig looked reasonably nervous. "I didn't think there was anything to the story." Nobody ever did till something happened. Dean glanced over the nearby records.

"Why don't you tell us the story." Sam suggested.

So Craig started telling us the tale slowly getting more popular with each passing day. "Supposedly back in the '30s, this farmer, Mordachai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters." I winched, I couldn't imagine having one child yet along six girls. "It was during the depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children." And it was probably to hard for young girls, even the eldest of them, during that time period to get a job. "So I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

"The deep end?" I repeated slowly.

When Craig paused, "How?" Sam demanded.

So Craig started again. "Well he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death." What kind of bogus reasoning was that? "So he attacked them." I have always wondered no matter how much I saw it, what kind of parent could hurt they're own child. "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung them up one after the other." Didn't none of them try ganging up on him? Six girls against one guy? "And when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself." There wasn't any less painful ways? Take a whole bottle of sleeping pills or something, less painful than a slow death as your neck breaks. "Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside." Well he sure as hell wasn't gonna be stringing me up.

"Where'd you hear all this?" Dean demands.

"My cousin Dana told me." Craig said.

"And she heard it front?" I asked.

Craig shrugged. "I don't know where she heard it from." He glanced around nervously. "Ya gotta realize, I didn't believe it for a second." Of course he didn't. Nobody who honestly believed it would be stupid enough to go inside. Then again, it was girls that were hung and Craig was a guy.

"But now you do." Sam guessed.

"I don't know what the hell to think." Craig said looking flushed. "I'll tell you exactly what I told the police. That girl was real and she was dead. This was not a prank, I swear to God. I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, ok?"

An hour later, "Creepy house." I said as we walked up the drive. It was still say out so I could feel the sun warming my skin.

"I still think you should wait in the car." Dean said protectively.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't care if his victims are girls. He's just another ghost so no way am I staying behind." Then I pushed open the door and went inside. Even though it was so bright outside, the place was dark and covered in dust so the light shining through the windows didn't do a bit of good.

Dean pulled out his EMF reader and it immediately started going off. "You got something?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, tapping at it. "The readings are screwed. I saw power lines outside, it's messing it up."

"Of course there would be." I said. That just made this case harder to do but surely not impossible.

Sam stopped up from passing one of the symbols painted over the fire place. "That reverse cross has been used by satanists for centuries but this sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Fransisco until the sixties." Which meant he probably didn't paint this so that meant someone else had to since he was long dead by the time it happened.

Dean stared at Sam. "That is exactly why you never get laid."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're exactly the reason I haven't been laid since I met you."

"And you never will!" Dean shot back over protectively. Awwww, how cute, he thought I still had my virginity. I looked over a weird symbol that looked like an upside down question mark, drawing Dean's attention to it. "I swear I've seen that before." Dean muttered. "...somewhere."

Sam rubbed at the symbol. "It seems pretty fresh."

"So what, a bunch of kids just making up pranks?" I guessed. Probably just to meet with people and they're heads. They needed some kind of entertainment around these parts.

"I have to agree with the cops, they may be right about this one." Dean suggested.

I jumped when there was a sudden noise from the next room. I pulled out my gun, Sam and Dean followed suit before we plastered ourselves against the wall. Sam was on one side of the door with Dean on the other and me at Dean's side. With a look, we all nodded. Dean slammed the door opened, Sam at his side and me just behind since there was so little room in the door way. "Hey!" I protested loudly, covering my eyes when there was a sudden bright light like a flashlight blinding me.

"Cut, it's just a couple of humans." A guy said. One guy lowered the flashlight connected to his video camera. There were two weird looking guys decked out in camera and recording equipment.

"What are you guys doing here?" The shorter guy demanded as if we had no business being there.

"Why the hell are you here?" Dean snapped.

"You know, beside blinding us." I squeezed the corner of my eyes together. I hid my gun behind my back before they could notice.

"We belong here." The short guy said like it was obvious and we should have known exactly what they were doing. "We're professionals."

Dean, Sam, and I shared a 'what the heck' look. "Professional what?" Dean demanded.

The guy looked proud as he said. "Paranormal Investigators." He handed the boys what looked like business cards. "Take a look at that boys." He handed me one. "And this one is a special one with my...personal, number on the back." I looked at him in disbelief.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Dean glared at them.

"My sentiments exactly." I said annoyed.

But Sam was too interested in looking at the names of the card. "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler?" Sounding as if he knew those names. "Hell Hounds Lair . Com?" I grinned at the awful name. "You guys run that website."

"Yeah," Ed said quite proudly. Such a nerd.

"Oh yeah, we're huge fans." Dean said with so much sarcasm, it was honestly amazing that neither boy picked up on it.

"Oh, the biggest." I grinned, with just as much Winchester sarcasm as my oldest brother had.

Neither dork picked up on it again. "And we know who you three are too." Ed said cockily. It was no longer funny. I looked at him sharply, tensing a little.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, his voice cautious.

"Amateurs." Ed said. Dean relaxed with lost interest. I let out the breath I had been holding. "Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills.

"That's exactly what we are." I quickly agreed, slipping my gun into the back of my pants. These guys weren't dangerous, just losers."

"So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here." Harry said, clearly wanting us to leave so they could get back to they're phony hunting.

Dean wasn't budging. "What have you got so far?" He started toying with one of the jars on the kitchen counter.

This whole conversation in the next upcoming minutes would just be all too funny.