Disclaimer: Haha... I like that on story 23 I was complaining of the possibilty of having 50 stories to have to say no in... isn't my face red now!
A/N: Wow! I should get a hundred points just for being able to make full sentences on that last one shot. I was so not feeling well... only today have I really felt 'normal'... though yesterday may have been because of my drinking the night before... I can't be sure. Haha, anyways, I got some stuff to say about this one shot. It's special. Why? Because it's based on a true story. Ok-- so half of it is. The whole first half of this story happened to me and two of my friends. Almost exactly as I wrote it-- I even copied most of the stuff that we said. It's kind of obvious where the fact part changes, but just to clarify... my friend was a complete wimp, and after she said that we should get out of there... we did. Other than that-- everything happened man! It was really creepy, and I was so stoked to be able to put it into a story. Well... enough rambling... I hope you enjoy it! (ahh... ps... the title of this story... the night we all went out, we went to 3 churches... this was the third one...)
Title: Third Church
Genre: Suspense
Summary: Sam and Dean go into an old, abandoned church at the side of a random highway thinking that there was nothing to the legends. Two unmarked graves, and a pissed off bride-to-be later... they change their minds.
Third Church
"Honestly Dean," Sam laughed, "You're serious? This is-- something that a bunch of teens looking for a cheep thrill would do."
"Haunted is haunted Sammy," Dean shrugged; immediately getting a glare for his word choice, "And this place is supposedly haunted."
"It's a church," Sam reminded, "Churches are hallowed ground, and the odds of having a haunted church is so slim, that Dad only found one, and has found only three documented. Most of these things are just peoples imaginations."
Dean got out of the Impala, and started to list off of his fingers, "The place is abandoned, it's in the middle of a dark dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and there's unmarked graves outside it. It's got all the landmarks of a potentially haunted place."
"Alright," Sam shook his head, highly amused at his brother's enthusiasm.
They had been without a gig for nearly two weeks, and the younger brother knew that Dean was looking for anything at that moment. He also got the first clue that Dean wasn't taking this place seriously when all he grabbed out of the trunk was two flashlights, and the EMF meter. Dean in the lead, they opened up the five foot tall chained gate; flashlights panning out in front of them as they looked around.
The church was small, and white in color-- though much of the paint had peeled off with the weather. Two large double doors sat at the front, and from their position, the brothers could see the beginning of a row of graves to the left hand side.
"C'mon," Dean spoke, excitement in his voice as he moved to the left of the church.
"Do you know anything about this place Dean?" Sam asked as he followed.
Dean shrugged, spinning to give a grin to Sam, "Other than the locals say it's haunted? Nope."
Sam rolled his eyes as they got to the side of the church; a neat row of five graves was lined along the chain-link fence which circled the property. Suddenly their flashlights became useless as the once cloud covered full moon now shone brightly onto them; splashing the side of the church wall, and the old stone graves in a pale light.
"Freaky," Dean commented, bending down to one of the graves.
Sam felt a cold feeling starting to form in his stomach, but quickly chalked it up to their being on the road for eighteen hours that day, and the ignorance they held for the place.
"Sam, check it out," Dean motioned for his brother to look at the grave.
Sam bent down and inspected it, "Weird-- it just says the year; 1895- 1923, but no name." he glanced in the light at the other four, "the other one beside it is the same. Just the years and no name."
"Could be people that they didn't know the name of," Dean suggested as he looked around some more, "Maybe they buried them here."
"How would they know when they were born then if they didn't even know the name if the people?" Sam asked as he gazed up at the tall stained-glass windows which were surprisingly still intact.
Dean had no answer, but instead headed back to the front again, "I don't know, but lets look inside."
Sam met his brother at the front of the church, where only a single, small latch held the large doors closed. The metal latch slid open easily, and Dean pushed at the door.
Nothing.
Again Dean shoved his shoulder firmly against the church opening, but it wouldn't budge.
"Ha, see," Sam smiled, "Something doesn't want us going in. Lets just--"
Before the sentence could be finished, a loud, whining creak echoed in the air, and both brothers looked over as the door slowly opened up without either of them having touched it. Wordlessly Sam and Dean watched.
"You were saying Sammy…" Dean spoke quietly, pulling out the EMF meter, and turning it on.
The meter stayed quietly, and Dean took a step into the church. Reluctantly Sam followed behind and they entered into a small, dark lobby. The two doors leading into the main area of the church were slightly ajar, and a small beacon of light shot out.
"Ever considered taking the history of a place before coming to it Dean?" Sam asked as they opened up the doors and walked in.
"What happened to spirits not haunting hallowed ground Sam?" Dean asked, sweeping the meter around as he looked around the inside.
The walls on both the left and right side were covered with the ceiling high windows, and the moonlight struck impressively through the left side, causing them to abandon the flashlights for good into their pockets. Dark wooden pews lined both the right and left side, and at the end stood an old looking alter. A door sat leading into a room on both the right side and the left side at the end of the isle beside the alter which sat on the hand laid wooden floor currently covered with dust.
"This is like a cheep horror movie," Sam mentioned as they made their way slowly down the center isle.
Dean laughed and stopped a few feet in-- his little brother mimicking the lack of movement. Before any words could be spoken by either of them, a loud crack from the pews to the left caused both brothers to jump.
"Damn," Dean felt his heart pound as he pivoted towards the direction the sound came from, the EMF meter making a sudden, loud screeching sound.
Sam whipped out his flashlight and shot it over, but before he could see anything, the EMF meter died down, and silence enveloped them again.
"Alright," Dean cleared his throat, "So apparently there is something here."
"Yeah," Sam motioned his head towards the doors at the end of the room, "Lets check out those."
Dean nodded and began to walk again down the softly creaking floor. Swiftly Dean moved around the front of the pews to the left side and walked to the door.
"Ready?" Dean asked, placing his hand around the handle.
"You're not packing, are you?" Sam frowned, his flashlight still clutched in hand.
"No," Dean grinned. "I wasn't exactly thinking this place had much credibility to it. Like you said, most of these things are just peoples imaginations."
Sam swallowed, "Just open the door."
Taking a breath in, Dean turned the handle and quickly pushed opened up the door, "Are there any ghosts inside?"
Sam laughed, shinning the light in the windowless room, "No, it's just a storage room I think."
Dean moved around and looked inside; an old pew sat vertically inside, along with about half a dozen chairs and a few boxes of things. The EMF meter remained quiet in Dean's hand, and after a moment he was convinced that there was nothing supernatural about the room.
"Other side?" Dean suggested.
Sam nodded, and the brothers walked to the right hand door. Again Sam stood poised with the flashlight in his hand, and Dean grasped the door handle. With a small, confirmative nod from Sam, Dean turned the handle and pushed at the door. The top of the door budged, reviling a crack to open, but something was catching on the bottom of the door, firmly keeping it shut.
"What the hell," Dean muttered, hitting at the door once more.
Again the top of the door opened ajar, but the bottom remained shut. Dean continued to slam into the solid wooden object, and the same thing continued to happen. As Sam watched he saw through the crack at the top a shadow shoot by.
"Screw it," Dean panted out, "This thing isn't opened unless I go at it with the axe or something."
"Dean try again," Sam's voice was quiet, "I saw a shadow go by inside the room when you were pushing it."
Dean stared at Sam a moment before going back to the door. He turned the handle and slammed into it with his shoulder, letting out a small yelp in pain as the door remained motionless.
"Sam, the damn thing isn't moving," Dean groaned out, grabbing his shoulder in pain.
"Try kicking the bottom of the door," Sam suggested, "Maybe that will get it loose or something."
"Yeah, because my foot is so much stronger than my whole upper body," Dean rolled his eyes, but went back to the door anyways.
Again, he turned the handle, but this time, gave a light, sarcastic hit with his boot clad foot. Almost immediately the door shot open, crashing with unbelievable force, sending an echoing smash against the inside of the room wall.
"Damn it!" Sam shouted out in shock, one hand moving to cover his mouth, his eyes wide.
Dean, as well, cussed loudly as the EMF meter in his hand went off again, and began to flash a bright, ominous red. It took a moment for the brothers to catch their breath as the noise from the meter continued to screech out, and it was then that Dean noticed the door had started to close again, and would have done so if his body wasn't standing in the frame of the room.
"Sammy," Dean glanced at Sam, "You ok?"
"Perfect," Sam breathed out, moving towards the room.
He shined his flashlight inside, and saw a single chair sitting in the center of the windowless room.
"Dean," Sam's quiet voice was barely heard over the meter, "There's no light or anything to cause the shadow I saw in there."
"I know," Dean agreed, looking into the less than comforting looking room, the whole time, the door trying to close in on itself "Come on, I think we should get out of here."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, but took a step into the room anyways, "I just don't get it Dean-- why would there just be a chair inside? I mean, it doesn't--"
Dean's foot which had been keep the door securely open, suddenly shot away, causing him to fall backwards, and the door slam shut again.
With Sam inside.
"Sam!" Dean screamed out, a cold air washing through the place, "Sam!!"
The older brother banged hard on the door, but he heard nothing but the meter in his hand, and his own heart furiously pounding. Dean then tried to open the door again, but it wouldn't even budge.
"Arggg," Dean pushed with all his might, giving a hard kick to the bottom for good measure, "Sammy!!"
Again no answer came back, and Dean hesitated a moment before running towards the exit of the church. Bounding out of the doors, the EMF meter was shoved into his pocket-- quiet at last, and silence enveloped Dean.
"Damn it," Dean muttered as he popped open his trunk, "Why the hell did I bring him here?"
It was rhetorical question at best, and it took only a few seconds for Dean to grab his sturdy axe, and a shot gun filled with rock salt. He barely took the time to slam back down the trunk before running back into the house; thankful that no more doors had closed on him, refusing to open. As he got to the end of the isle to in front of the alter, Dean slowed his pace. Everything remained quiet, including the EMF meter which was still turned in the on position in his pocket.
"Sam?" Dean called out quietly, and tentatively as he moved towards the closed door, "Sammy…"
With a shaking hand, Dean touched the door, his breath catching in his throat as slowly and carefully it opened up with the same slow high pitched sound that the front doors had made. Dean put down the axe, and fumbled in his pocket for his flashlight, turning it on and taking a step into the door frame.
"Sam…" Dean panned the light around, it finally landing in the center of the room where the chair was.
Sam now sat on it.
"Dean?" Sam's voice choked out carefully.
Adrenaline still pumped viciously through Dean, "Sammy, are you alright?"
Sam remained silent.
"Come here," Dean reached out his arm towards his little brother; not wanting to move from his position in front of the door.
Sam remained motionless.
"Sammy, come on," Dean started to take a reluctant step in.
"Dean, don't come in," Sam's voice was quiet and scared, causing Dean to stop in his tracks.
Dean shone the flashlight onto Sam who had a trickle of blood coming down the side of his head, "Sam what's wrong? What's going on?"
"Don't come in," Sam's voice quivered out as he repeated the sentence, "It's a trap."
"What's a trap?" Dean looked around the room, but still saw nothing.
"She's here," Sam swallowed hard, "Dean you can't come in, or she'll take you too."
"Sam what are you talking about?" Dean's voice cracked with emotions, "I gotta get you outta here-- just grab my hand. C'mon…"
The image of a woman in a flowing white wedding dress suddenly appeared in front of Sam, running her hand threateningly across his cheek.
"Come on in Dean," her voice was icy and threatening, "Join the fun."
Dean immediately had his gun up and pointed at her, "Let him go."
A sharp nail on her pointer finger sliced across Sam's face, "I don't think so. You try shooting your gun… it will hit him before it ever hits me."
Dean swallowed hard, eying Sam, who had his eyes closed, "What do you want?"
The lady in white flickered, suddenly appearing on the other side of Sam, "My husband."
"Listen lady," Dean's breath came out jagged, "I don't know who your husband is-- but it's not Sam."
Again the bride flashed away, and appeared directly in front of Sam, running her hand through his blood soaked hair, "But he'll do."
"No!" Dean shouted out, the door slamming hard onto his shoulder, "No, just-- please. Let-let me help you. Don't hurt Sam."
Dean was frightened of what the thing was capable of doing, but was even more worried about the fact that Sam still had his eyes closed. The lady continued to stand inches from Sam, wiping her hands seductively across his face, and arms.
"My husband," she laughed quietly, bending down to lick the blood from Sam's cheek; causing Dean to tense, and clutch the gun tighter, "He was supposed to come here; to wed me. He was supposed to come," three slice marks made their way across Sam's t-shirt suddenly from her hand, causing blood to quickly stain the blue cotton, "But he didn't-- he didn't show. So…"
Her voice trailed off, leading Dean to finish the sentence, "…so you killed yourself, didn't you?"
"It was the only way," the bride appeared behind Sam and jerked his head back from his hair.
"Hey!" Dean had enough of the torture of his brother, "Leave him alone!"
"It was this room you know," she continued on like nothing had been said, "Right in this room. He didn't love me, so I couldn't live…"
"That has nothing to do with Sam," Dean wished dearly she would move away from him.
A long silver bladed knife appeared in her hand as suddenly the woeful bride stood behind Sam threateningly, "It does now. I'm going to make sure no one leaves me again."
"No!" Dean cried out.
The older brother was just about to go into the room in a vane attempt to stop the ghost when a cold wind shot through. A white mist was carried in, and Dean stared as it made a magical dance and whisper in front of both Sam and the woman.
"Kara…" a whisper of a male voice echoed in the room, "Kara… let him go."
Dean's heart pounded and the woman who he knew now as Kara spoke, "L-Leslie?… Leslie is that you?"
The white mist swirled and a man with shoulder length brown, wavy hair took form in front of Sam. He wore a loose fitting white top and beige pants with brown suede boots.
The man stood smiling and spoke again, "It's me Kara."
"Leslie, you left me," the knife was still clutched in Kara's hand, thought thankfully wasn't near Sam's throat anymore, "We-we were to be wed. You were to be my husband"
"There was an accident Kara," Leslie explained, "On my way to this very church my horse-- she lost her footing near the river bend."
Kara studied him a moment, taking in the words, "So… you did not leave me for another woman?"
"You are the only woman for me Kara," Leslie's voice was soft, "I died on the way to our wedding, though I have not forgotten you. And we will always be together. But you have to let this man go."
"I-I… no," Kara breathed deeply, "No… we can never be together now. It is too late."
"But we are," insisted Leslie, "We always have been. The graves beside the church…"
Dean instinctively turned his head to the side of the church where the graves sat, and everything suddenly began to make sense.
"Two of the graves," Leslie went on, "They are ours. They buried us together… so we will always be together."
"There are no names," Kara stated stubbornly, "How am I to know the words you speak are true?"
Leslie laughed quietly, "I would not lie to you my Love. The stones remain nameless for we could not be wed, and so held no names. But you have to come with me now Kara. You must leave these people be, and I promise… we will be together for a lifetime and more."
Kara stared down at Sam, who though still had his eyes closed, was breathing heavy.
"Kara--" Leslie reached out a hand, "Come my Love."
Kara stepped around Sam, and, hesitant at first, reached her hand out to her lost husband to be. Dean watched, shotgun still clutched in hand, as the two spirits hands met. A bright light flashed through the room followed by a sudden cold breeze.
And then nothing but darkness.
"S-Sammy…" Dean called out, fear in his voice as he shone his flashlight at his little brother.
Sam's eyes finally opened, and he looked over at Dean, who still didn't want to leave the frame of the door. With a trembling hand, Sam felt his chest, where blood still oozed out slowly and painfully.
"Sammy," Dean put down the shotgun and reached out his hand again, "Grab my hand man."
This time Sam did move as he stood up and grabbed his older brother's hand. With the leverage of the doorframe, Dean pulled Sam out into the main church area. Both Winchester's stood there as slowly the door closed again and silence once more filled their world.
Dean breathed hard, and, in the light of the moon, looked at Sam, "Hey Sam," Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, "You with me?"
Sam cleared his throat and nodded, "Yeah."
Dean used his thumb to wipe away a stream of blood which came down his little brothers face, "Are you ok?"
"I think so," Sam confirmed.
Dean patted his shoulder affectionately before moving over to grab the gun, "I'm really sorry Sammy."
"Why?" Sam asked, his left arm covering his hurt chest.
"For dragging you in here," Dean spoke quietly as they made their way back towards the front of the church, "For… not stopping you from getting hurt."
"It wasn't your fault," Sam grinned.
The two got outside just as the moon was covered again by a random cloud. Dean put the latch back on the door and started back towards the Impala.
"I would do anything to have made it me sitting in that room, and not you," Dean's voice was sincere and apologetic, "You know that, right?"
Again Sam flashed a smile at his brother, "I know. But there was nothing you could have done… she had good taste."
The End.