Be happy for the longer chapter than lately, couldn't get on the Internet to post it so I just kept writing when I could tell I could get back on to post.
Did We Finish The Hunt
"Pay dirt." Dean finally got serious, out of my love life and back with the case. "Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family." Well I wouldn't want a cold blooded murderer buried next to me. "So they handed him over to the country, the country gave him a paupers funeral, economy style." The hell did that mean. "Turns out he wasn't cremated, he was buried in a pine box." My eyes widened and I got excited, buried bodies were a lot easier to burn then finding what was holding a cremated ghost to earth.
"So there are bones to burn." Sam realized.
"There are bones to burn." Dean agreed.
I temporarily forgot about my fight with Dean and smiled brightly. "Great, let's go find his grave."
That night led us one of the graveyards we'd searched through either but hasn't realized the father was buried here. Dean and Sam were in the ground digging up the grave. Sarah was holding the flashlight while I was trying to pry open the salt canister. When the grave was deep enough, Sam crawled out so Dean could finish with more room and made it easier to dig. "You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this." Sarah said awkwardly, huddling in her jacket.
"Well this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug." Sam said with a smirk. "Still think I'm a catch?" Sarah laughed and I shook my head, finally getting the canister opened.
Dean's shovel hit something hard in the ground. "Think I've got something." He called up to us. Dean slammed the shovel into the lid, cracking open the coffin to reveal the decomposed body inside. After Dean climbed out, I poured the salt and Sam poured the kerosene as Sarah watched from the sidelines. Dean lit the match, "You've been a real pain in the ass Isaiah, good riddance." He announced, tossing in the match. The coffin burst into flames and we stood around waiting for the body to burn before we started re-burying the evidence.
"We're finally here?" I asked, jolted awake from taking a small nap in the car. I stretched my arms above my head, looking out the window up to Evelyn's house.
Sam opened his door, "Keep the motor running."
"I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah asked.
"Better safe than sorry." Sam explained. "We're gonna bury the sucker."
Then Sarah climbed out, "I'm going with you." She followed him up the drive. I propped my feet up on the seat Sarah just vacated.
"Seriously Dean?" I asked when he turned a slow love song on the radio that Sam and Sarah could hear from the front door. Dean grinned as Sam gave them a 'what the fuck' look. Dean finally huffing, turned off the music as Sam's insistence.
Sam and Sarah moved inside the house, only to stare at the painting in surprise. "Sam, you're an expert on all this ghost stuff." Sarah said shakily. "Is that painting supposed to look like that, where's the little girl?" The family was still there but the daughter that had been in front of the father was now missing.
Sam had noticed something else, "And the razor." There had been one of those long razor's your great grandparents used and from old barber shops had been on the desk in the painting but now the desk held only papers. The sound of a little girl laughing suddenly echoed throughout the house just before the front door slammed shut and locked itself.
Outside, I followed Dean as quick as I could, not being as fast only because of my shorter legs, as we raced up the stairs. "Dean! Chris!" Sam shouted inside but no matter which brother pulled the door, it was clearly locked and not moving. I banged on the window but didn't have enough force in my blows to break it.
My phone suddenly rung and I had barely answered it before Dean grabbed it, putting it on speaker. "Tell me you slammed the front door."
"And that you and Sarah just really wanted some alone time." It wasn't like Sam to get a girl but I was willing to be hopeful he would in this case.
"Chris!" Sam snapped. "Anyway, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl."
"Girl? What girl?" Dean demanded urgently.
"She's out of the painting." Sam explained. "I think it might've been her all along."
I felt like banging my head against the wall. "These things are never easy, are they?"
"Wasn't the dad looking down at her?" Dean asked urgently. "Maybe he was trying to warn us."
"Let's recap later, alright." Sam said quickly, sounding like he was trying not to panic. "Just get us out of here!"
Dean was now looming over me as I tried unlocking the door by picking it but no matter what twists I did, the lock just wouldn't click. "Chris is trying to pick the lock but the door won't budge."
"What she do? Turn this door into titanium!" I angrily hit my fist against the unmoving door.
"Just knock it down!" Sam suggested as a last ditch effort to getting out the house.
"Okay genius, let me just grab my battering ram!" Dean said with the sarcasm only a Winchester could have.
"The damn this is coming!" Sam sounded panicked.
"Fuck." I'm pretty sure I paled a little.
"You're just gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out." Dean said quickly. "Get some salt or iron."
Inside, Sam grabbed Sarah's hand and hurried into the kitchen where they started their search for anything that would keep them alive. "What kind of house doesn't have salt?" Sam demanded angrily, slamming the cabinet shut. "Low sodium freaks?" Then he turned to Sarah. "Hey, did you find any iron?"
"No, what's it for?" Sarah asked, looking at him like he was nuts.
"Iron repels evil spirits but it's gotta be pure." Sam explained, grabbing his phone. He told Dean and Chris through the phone, "Give me a sec, don't go anywhere."
Outside, Dean pulled me off the porch from where I had started kicking the window so we could look for any other way in.
Back inside, Sam was talking to Sarah. "Look in the chair." He pointed at it, already searching through the desk. "Sometimes the seats," he never got to finish. The doors to the lounge suddenly slammed shut, the wind blowing papers across the ground. The little eight year old girl appeared before the door, dragging her doll on the floor behind her in one hand, and the other hand held the long razor. Sam backed up quickly, dragging the terrified Sarah behind him. The girl slowly moved closer, taking small step towards them.
"This is just so wrong." Sarah whimpered, clutching at the back of Sam's jacket covered shoulders. Sam realized they had just backed into the fire place and grabbed the fire poker. The girl screamed angrily and Sam swung the fire poker straight through her, making her vanish.
Outside, "This is hopeless." I pulled on my hair panicking.
"No it's not!" Dean snapped, turning back to the phone. "How are we gonna waste her?" He asked Sam.
"I don't know, she was already cremated." Sam said, mind running at a mile an hour. "There's nothing left to burn!"
"Then how is she still around?" Dean demanded.
"Something is still tying her to the earth." I started to pace, unable to sit still for very long.
There was a long pause where I could barely hear the muffled voices of Sam and Sarah talking. Then Sam got back on the phone, "Guys, Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains, same as bones."
Sam, Dean, and I all came to the same conclusion and said together, "The Mausoleum!" I turned to the car, Dean already hopping in the front seat while I jumped, sliding over the hood of the car and clambering in the other door. Dean didn't bother getting out to open the closed gates, we busted them open by driving through it.
Inside the house, the wind started again and Sam rose the fire poker as they're last line of defense. But then the large cabinet he stood beside was flung over, making him cry out in surprise as most of his body was pinned beneath it. Sarah screamed, rushing to help him only to hear something behind her. Sarah spun around only to come faced with the little girl.
At the cemetery, I held onto my door as Dean skidded to a stop in front of the mausoleum. We both jumped from the car, racing into the mausoleum only to stop when we got in front of the glass case holding the little girl's doll with her hair. Dean tried smashing it open with the butt of his gun but it just wouldn't shatter.
"Dean!" I snapped, looking at the gun. Dean looked down at his gun before cursing himself, realizing what she meant. Dean pulled me behind him to shield me while he raised one hand to cover his face, I buried my face in his chest as he pointed the gun behind him and shot. The glass shattered and Dean yanked the doll out the case while I searched my pockets for the lighter.
Back at the house, Sarah screamed as she was tossed into the air.
At the graveyard, "Hurry up!" Dean snapped as I tried the lighter that refused to lit.
"I'm trying!" I snapped back, pushing it again and again.
At the house, Sarah was dragging herself up the wall, watching the ghost approach with the razor in hand. Sam was slowly starting to inch the heavy cabinet off him.
At the graveyard, I finally got the flame to hold and the doll's hair that Dean held started to smoke before burning.
At the house, the ghost started to bring the razor down on Sarah. Sam screamed and Sarah shrieked, raising her hands as some sort of defense. The razor never connected because the girl shrieked as she burned, she dying while the ordinary unmoving version of herself and her razor reappeared back in they're rightful place in the place.
The next day at the auction house, "I got this." Derek insisted, grinning at Chris as he helped load the painting into one of the moving crates.
I smiled back, but other than that, we were being cautious considering I was standing between Sam and Dean, Dean being the one more likely to throw a punch if he knew Derek and I had practically been undressing in the back alley outside the library.
Dean was holding up a stack of papers. "This was archived in the country records." He explained, holding them up. "The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie." Meaning the girl that tried to kill Sam and Sarah. "Know why she was up for adoption?" I assumed they either died or she was abandoned, that's what most kids were in the foster system. "Her real family was murdered in their beds."
I let out a low whistle, "Little girl went psycho."
"She killed them?" Sarah asked surprised. Which it really shouldn't be since the girl did try to slit her throat with a razor just the night before.