1.17
[after a couple of comments I realized I didn't copy over the last part! Sorry, enjoy the final scene now at the end]
We're driving through Texas. It's boring. So boring I'm actually balancing my math workbook on my lap and attempting to get through a whole variety of long division. I look up to see if there's anything to…see. But instead I see Dean putting a spoon in Sam's mouth.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Shh," Dean says and fumbles for his phone to take a photo. Dean turns the music up loud and sings along.
Sam jerks up, panics, spits out the spoon. Dean drums on the steering wheel and look over at Sam, he turns down the music.
"Ha ha, very funny," Sam says flatly.
"Heh heh heh. Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own," says Dean.
"I want a copy of the photo," I say.
Sam throws the spoon back at me and huffs. "Man we're not kids anymore Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again."
"Start what up?"
"That prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates."
"Like frogs in shoes," I say.
Dean laughs, "What's the matter Sammy, scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again huh?"
"All right, just remember you started it," says Sam.
"I'm officially out of this," I say.
Dean glances back at me and frowns. "Fine," he turns to Sam. "Bring it on baldy."
"Where are we anyway?" asks Sam.
"A few hours outside of Richardson. Gimme the low down again?"
"All right, about a month or two ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house."
"Haunted by what?"
"Apparently, a misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar."
"Anybody ID the corpse?"
"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains."
"Maybe the cops are right?"
"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere."
"Where did you read these accounts?"
"Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So last night, I surfed some local paranormal websites. And I found one."
"And what's it called."
"Hell hounds lair dot com"
I laugh.
"Let me guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement?" says Dean.
"Yeah, probably."
"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter."
"Look. We let Dad take off. Which was a mistake, by the way."
"I second that," I say.
"And now we don't know where the hell he is and in the meantime we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm in checking this out."
"All right," says Dean. "So where do we find these kids?"
"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."
We pull up at fast food place called. "Rodeo Drive". It's…well. It's a fast food place. Dean shoves me at a table with all the stuff and they go and find all the guys that went to the haunted house. After about half an hour Sam and Dean come back and three teenagers sit across from us on the table. I put my book in my bag. None of them can seem to completely agree on what actually happened. Or what the girl actually looked like. Which is not a good sign. But Sam's right, they do all seem sincere.
"And...how'd you find out about this place anyway?" Sam asks.
"Craig took us," they all say.
Craig apparently works at a music shop. So after a night in another charming motel we head out first thing in the morning.
"Fellas. Can I help you with anything?" asks a guy almost as soon as we enter the shop.
"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asks.
Dean pushes me on my back to a shelf and I busy myself flipping through albums, pretending I'm not with them.
"I am," says the guy.
"Well we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam," says Dean.
"No way. Well I'm writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine."
"Well, good for you Morrisey."
"Umm. We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one," says Sam.
"You mean the Hell House?"
"That's the one," says Dean.
"I didn't think there was anything to the story," says Craig.
"Why don't you tell us the story?"
"Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end."
"How?" asks Sam.
"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."
"Where'd you hear all this." Asks Dean.
"My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."
"But now you do," says Sam.
"I don't know what the hell to think man. You guys, I tell you exactly what I told the police ok? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again ok?"
Dean thanks him and he and Sam leave. I push the stack of albums back I was flicking through and slip out the door behind them.
The Hell House is not in the nicest place. The path is all muddy and I worry I'm going to ruin another pair of shoes.
"Can't imagine why this place was abandoned," I say.
"I can't say I blame the kid," says Sam.
"Yeah, so much for curb appeal," says Dean.
We wander around outside and I don't find anything that screams 'this is why this place is haunted.' I go back around the the front of the house and Dean has the EMF, looking at it intently.
"You got something?" Sam asks.
"Ye-ah. The EMFs no good," says Dean.
"Why?"
Dean gestures to the power pole. "I think that things still got a little juice in it, it's screwing with all the readings."
"Yeah that'd do it."
"Yeah. Come on, let's go."
We go inside and it's…not what I expected.
Dean whistles. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger in his time."
The room is covered in signs and symbols.
"And after his time too," says Sam. "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of sulphur didn't show up in San Franciso until the '60s." Sam takes a photo with his phone.
"That is exactly why you never get laid."
I make a gagging sound.
Dean makes a face at me and goes to another wall. "Hey what about this one, you seen this one before?"
It is a cross with a dot in the middle. The bottom stroke looks like an upside-down question mark.
"No," says Sam, he takes another photo.
"I have. Somewhere."
"Doesn't look very…satanist or whatever," I say. "Looks too modern."
Sam rubs at the symbol. "It's paint," he says. "Seems pretty fresh too."
"I don't know Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind...but the cops may be right about this one," says Dean.
"Yeah, maybe."
There's a noise. A creak in one of the opposite rooms Sam and Dean go to the door and Dean nods his head to tell me to get against the wall. I roll my eyes but go. Sam and Dean bust through the door. They yell. But not like…scared yell.
"Oh cut," says a voice. "It's just a couple of humans."
"What are you guys doing here?" asks another.
"What they hell are you doing here?" asks Dean.
I go in to the room and see two guys with flashlights, a camera and…a lot of other stuff.
"A-ha-ha. We belong here, we're professionals?" says one guy.
"Professional what?"
"Paranormal Investigators," says the other. "There you go, take a look at that, boys."
I come up next to Sam and take a look at the card he was just handed. I laugh.
"Who the hell is she?" asks the first guy.
"A ghost," I say.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho, I don't think so."
I hand Sam back the card.
"Oh you gotta be kidding me," says Dean.
"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler?" Sam says, reading the card. " , you guys run that website."
"Yeah."
"Oh yeah, yeah, we're huge fans."
"And ahh, we know who you guys are too."
"Oh yeah?" asks Sam.
"Amatuers. Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."
I roll my eyes.
"Yep. So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here," says the other guy. Harry?
"Yeah, what have you got so far?" asks Dean.
"Harry, why doncha tell 'em about EMF?" says Ed.
"Well.."
"EMF?" Sam asks.
"Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here," says Harry. He turns his on. "Whoa. Whoa. It's 2.8mg"
"2.8. It's hot in here," says Ed.
Dean whistles.
"Wow," says Sam.
"But-" I start but Sam whacks me in my arm. "What?" I hiss.
"Huh. So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or..." asks Dean.
"Once," says Ed. "We were, uh...we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table..."
"By itself," says Harry.
"Well we didn't actually see it, we heard it. And something like that...it uh...it changes you."
I stifle a laugh. Sam glares at me. I mouth what at him but he doesn't say anything. Rude.
"Yeah," says Dean. "I think I get the picture. We should go, let them get back to work."
"Yeah, you should."
"Sam. Jane."
Sam grabs my arm and drags me out of the house.
Sam and I go to the library to find information of Mordechai and Dean's going to go to the police station. Once Sam and I are set up with what we hope are the appropriate papers to sort through he gets up to go.
"Where are you going?"
"I'll be back," is all Sam says.
I go back to the papers. I find a Mordechai…but Martin and from the 30s. Is that enough? I don't know. I find the papers that go further back. Maybe it's a family house?
Sam comes back and I show him the Mordechai. We both look for more, but nope that's the only one. Dean calls and says he's done and on his way to us. Sam and I pack and leave and meet Dean outside the library.
"Hey. What you guys got?" asks Dean.
"Couldn't find a Mordechai but we did find a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the '30s," I say.
"He did have children but only two of them, both boys and there's no evidence he ever killed anyone," says Sam.
"Huh," says Dean.
"What about you?"
"Well those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons, it's like she never existed. Dude come on, we did our digging, this one's a bust all right. For all we know those hell hound boys made up the whole thing."
"Yeah, all right," says Sam.
"I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals."
Dean gets into the car and I go to get in to, but Sam pulls me back. Sam leans in the window as Dean starts the car. Loud music blasts out of the speakers and the wipers turn on.
"WHOA!" yells Dean. "What the…" he fumbles around to turn everything off.
Sam laughs and gets in. I roll my eyes but get in the back with a smile on my face.
"That's all you got? Sweet. That is bush league," says Dean.
I'm so glad I opted out of this.
The next morning Sam wakes us up early, there was a death in the hell house overnight. We arrive when all the emergency services are there, there's a body bag on a stretcher being brought out of the house.
"What happened?" Dean asks one of the cops.
"A couple of cops say a girl hung herself in the house," says the man.
"Suicide?" Sam asks.
"Yeah. She was a straight A student, with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense," the man walks away.
"She killed herself in the hell house?" I ask. "That doesn't make sense."
"What do you think?" Sam asks Dean.
"I think maybe we missed something."
We go back that night but the police are now watching the house. Two hangings in the house is pretty bad.
"I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there," Sam says as we hide in the bushes.
"Yeah but we still gotta get in there," says Dean. "I don't believe it."
I turn, the idiot ghosthunters are hunched over walking towards the house with the loudest whispers I've ever heard. Also a whole tonne of gear. Are they boy scouts or something?
"I got an idea," says Dean. He stands up, and cups his mouth. "Who ya gonna call!"
Ed and Harry say something and the cops see them. They chase after them with Harry and Ed making all sorts of noises as they try and run away. Laughing, we all go to the house. Sam hands Dean a gun and he turns on a flashlight.
"What about me?" I ask.
Sam frowns. "Stay close."
I roll my eyes and turn on my flashlight.
"Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me!" Dean says looking at the weird hook question mark thing on the wall.
"Come on, we don't have much time," says Sam.
We go down to the basement. It's pretty foul. There are jars of stuff on old shelves. I shine my flashlight up to them and none of the colours or contents are very nice. At all. I gag.
"Hey Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this," Dean says holding one of the jars.
"What the hell would I do that for?" asks Sam.
"...I double dare you."
Sam shakes his head. There's a noise. Sam and Dean go towards it and I linger behind because someone thought it was a good idea for me to not have a gun. Sam opens the door and I hear squeaking.
"Argh!" yells Dean. "I hate rats."
I laugh.
"You'd rather it was a ghost?" asks Sam.
"Yes."
I laugh but then freeze. I feel something. I turn around. My breath catches. Creepy old looking guy with an axe over his head is standing at the bottom of the stairs. He swings the axe and I duck and roll out of the way. The axe catches in the one of the shelves.
"Jane!" Sam yells.
He goes after Sam who shoots him twice, but nothing happens. I stay on the floor.
Dean shoots him again and he disappears.
"What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?" Sam yells.
"I dunno. Come on," says Dean. "Jane!" he yells at me, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. Mordechai is there, he crashes his axe into the shelves. Mordechai tries and goes for Sam who fights him off.
"Go!" Sam yells at us. "Get outta here!"
Mordechai raises his axe again but gets the electrical box and sparks go everywhere.
We run for the door and Dean practically pushes me out of the house. I stumble down the steps onto the grass and see ghosthunter idiot 1 and 2. I jump up and keep running.
"Get that damn thing outta my face," Dean yells from behind me.
"Go go go!" Sam yells.
I just keep running until we're far away from the house.
I collapse on the couch at the motel. I manage to kick off my shoes with my feet and close my eyes lying on the couch. Dean collapses on the bed and Sam goes to wash his face.
"Brush your teeth, Munch," Dean says from the bed.
I groan and don't lift my head off the cushion.
"Dental hygiene is important."
I raise my head, Dean's head is leaning off the back of the bed, his eyes closed. I scoff, and close my eyes. A pillow lands on my face.
"Hey!" I yell.
"Teeth, go," Deans grumbles.
I roll my eyes but manage to get off the couch and brush my teeth next to Sam. When we get back out Dean is asleep, taking up the whole bed and Sam collapses on the other bed. Annoyed, I go to the couch and lay down. I don't know when I fall asleep but next thing I know I'm being manhandled. I wriggle but Dean's voice says,
"Calm down, Munch."
I relax a little and he places me in a bed, pulls the covers up over me. I mean to say something but nothing comes out before I fall back asleep.
In the morning Sam and Dean make me do school work. The Industrial Revolution. Riveting. Sam says puns aren't great for essay titles but I completely disagree. I'm working on the bed next to Dean who is drawing the symbol from the hell house over and over on motel stationery.
"What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me," says Dean. "This whole damn job's buggin' me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."
"It does," Sam answers from the table where he's researching.
"All right. Well that explains why he went after you and Janie, but why me?"
"Hilarious! The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"
"Yeah."
"You guys were looking at the maniacs wrists?" I ask.
"We're professionals," says Dean.
"But what's up with the wrists?" asks Sam. "And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict right? Following the Same patterns over and over again?"
"But this mook keeps changing."
"He's a modern ghost for a modern age?" I offer.
"Don't think it works like that," says Dean.
"Exactly," says Sam. "I'm telling ya, the way the story goes...wait a minute."
"What?"
"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this. 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."
"How did the story change?" I ask.
Dean suddenly sits up straight.
"Where the hell is this going?" asks Sam.
"I don't know," says Dean, "but I think I might have just figured out where it all started."
Dean drags us to the music store where Craig works. He looks a little worse for wear now.
"Hey Craig? Remember us?" asks Dean.
"Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions ok?" says Craig.
"Oh don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all."
Dean flicks through some albums and pulls one out and we approach the counter. "You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realised that it doesn't mean anything. It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult. Tell me Craig, You into BOC? Or just sacring the hell outta people? Know why don't you tell us about that house...without lying through your ass this time."
Craig sighs. "All right, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the wall, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so...we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of it's own. I mean I thought it was funny at first but...that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we just made the whole thing up. I swear!"
"All right," says Sam.
We start to leave.
"If none of it was real how the hell do you explain Mordechai?" asks Dean.
"Like I said," I say. "Modern ghost for a modern age."
"Uh huh," says Dean.
"You know," says Sam when we get outside. "Janie might have a point."
Dean says he needs to go out when we get back to the motel and apparently I have school work to do or something. Sam researches, which is very distracting, and he thinks he has an idea. A tulpa. Thought demon thing. Sam goes to have a shower and I try and finish my research. Dean comes back in with something in his hands.
"What are you doing?" I ask him.
"Shh," Dean says quietly, then loudly towards the bathroom, "Hey, I'm back."
"Hey, where were you?" asks Sam.
"Oh, I went out."
"Smooth," I say to Dean.
Dean opens the packet of whatever and digs around Sam's clothes for his underwear.
"Is that-" I begin to ask but Dean shushes me.
"So I think I might have a theory about what's going on," says Sam.
"Oh yeah?"
"What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?"
"Tulpa?"
Sam comes out of the bathroom. "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form."
"Ahh, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey why don't you get dressed, I wanna go grab something to eat." Dean eyes me and goes into the bathroom.
I say nothing and go back to writing my essay.
We go a place to get coffee and even though I tell Sam I want coffee he orders a hot chocolate for me which is just rude. Sam gets fidgety and it's very annoying.
"There you go guys," says the server bringing our drinks.
Dean takes Sam's cup and we head to a table. Sam is still fidgeting.
"Dude what's your problem?" asks Dean.
"Nothing, I'm fine," says Sam.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I look at Dean and he mouths 'don't you dare'. So I say nothing and sit down.
"So, ahhh, all right keep going. What about these Tulpas?" asks Dean.
"Ok, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualised a golem in their head. The meditated on it so hard they bought the thing to life. Outta thin air," says Sam.
"So?"
"That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard."
"See, modern ghost," I say. "Monks is oldschool, thousands of randoms online is modern."
"Now wait a second," says Dean. "Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai he's real?"
"I dunno, maybe?" says Sam.
"People believe in Santa Claus, how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"
"Cause you're a bad person. And because of this..."
Sam turns the laptop to Dean, and all the symbols pictured on the website. And the main one Sam did the research on.
"That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai...I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life."
"It would explain why he keeps changing," says Dean.
Sam fidgets again. "Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."
"Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit."
"Modern spirit," I say.
"Oh shut it," says Dean.
"I was right though," I say.
"Only partly. Ok. So why don't we just...uhh. get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?"
"Well it's not that simple," says Sam. "You see, once Tupla's are created they take on a life of their own."
"Great. So if he really is a thought form how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?"
Sam is still fidgeting and adjusting and my god it's so annoying. "Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their home page."
The home page has the video of the night previously and you can see Moredchai.
"Just great," I say.
"Since they've posted the footage their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone," says Sam.
"Hmph. I got an idea. Come on," says Dean.
"Where we going?"
"We gotta find a copy store."
We all get up and Sam is now itching and jiggling and all sorts. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something."
Dean laughs.
"You did this?"
Dean just laughs. It is a little funny.
"You're a frigging jerk!"
"Oh yeah."
"Did you know?" Sam asks me.
I say nothing and go to catch up to Dean.
"Oh yeah, real nice, Janie," says Sam.
We go to the trailer park and find the crazy guys' trailer. Dean bangs on the door.
"Come on out here guys, we hear you in there."
Ed and Harry come out.
"Ah, would you look at that!" says Dean. "Action figures in their original packaging, what a shock."
"Guys, we need to talk," says Sam.
"Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now," says Ed.
"Ok well we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website," says Dean.
Ed laughs. "Well these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell..."
"I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright."
"Thanks for sharing," I say.
"Why should we trust you guys?" asks Ed.
"Look guys," says Sam. "We all know what we saw last night, what's in that house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai."
"That's right which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt."
"Yeah, yeah..." says Ed.
"Ed maybe he's got a point, maybe..." says Harry.
"Nope..."
"No."
"We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth."
"Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now."
"Dean, Dean, it's ok," says Sam. "Hey, just forget it, all right? These guys...probably bitch slap them both, I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai...but they still won't help us. Let's just go."
We all turn to go.
"Whoa whoa," say Ed and Harry.
"Yeah, you're right," says Dean.
We keep walking and the idiots keep following.
"What you say about...?" says Ed.
"Hang on a second here," says Harry.
"Wait...wait."
"What thing about Mordechai you guys?"
"Don't tell 'em Sam," says Dean.
"But if they agree to shut the website down Dean," says Sam.
"They're not going to do it, you said so yourself."
"No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it," says Ed.
"It's a secret Sam," says Dean.
Ugh. They're acting isn't…good. At all.
"Look, it is a really big deal all right. And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down."
"Totally," says Ed.
"All right."
Dean hands over the fake paperwork.
"It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library. Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gun shot wound."
"That's right he didn't hang or cut himself," says Dean.
"He shot himself?" asks Ed.
"Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them."
"Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds it'd kill the son of a bitch," Sam.
Ed and Harry laugh. Ed sprints back to the trailer.
"Wow," I say. "They're not very subtle are they?"
We go to a weird restaurant and there's a ridiculous fish that laughs a horrific laugh every time Dean pulls the cord. And I mean every. Single. Time.
Sam reaches out and stops it going. "If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you."
Dean stares at Sam, and pulls the cord. Sam stops it.
Dean laughs. "Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense."
"No, the fish is way too annoying," I say.
"It's hilarious!"
Sam and I glare at Dean.
"They post it yet?" asks Dean.
Sam turns the laptop to Dean and I. Dean reads the article, "We've learned from reputable sources…"
I look up and see Sam doing something to Dean's beer. I raise my eyebrows at him and he just winks.
Dean asks a question that I don't hear.
"Long enough for the new story to spread," Sam says nonchalantly, "and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker."
Sam holds his beer out to Dean, who lifts his own and taps it.
"Sweet."
Dean drinks and Sam smiles. I look at Dean. He puts his beer down but…doesn't. It's stuck.
Sam laughs. I do too.
"You didn't," says Dean.
Sam holds out the tube of super glue. "Oh, I did!"
Sam pulls the fish again. Ugh.
"Oh no no no no no," says Dean. "You are not coming."
"You're kidding, right?" I ask. "Tweedledee and Tweedledum would've done their thing, this is basically clean up," I cross my arms.
"Mister made-up monster is not messing around, he already went after you once Jane, I'm not doing that again."
I roll my arms and look over at Sam. He just shrugs. "Ugh. You're no help." Annoyed, I grab the bag and head out the door. If I'm in the car there's not much they can do. I throw the duffel in the trunk and climb in the backseat.
"You're kidding, right?" Dean says leaning through the driver's side window.
I stare ahead. "I'm not 5 anymore, Dean."
I hear Sam and Dean muffled whispers over the car before they both seem to agree on something and just get in the car. I see Dean's eyes watching me from the rearview mirror, I smirk.
We get to the house and get out the guns, no one is talking to each other, which suits me just fine. Dean winces with his hand as he loads his gun and Sam and I smirk at each other. We get inside and search the house. Dean gives up the silence,
"I barely have any skin left on my palm," he says.
"I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole," says Sam.
Dean shines his torch in Sam's face and moves into another room. Sam and I follow.
"You guys think Old Moredchai's home?" asks Dean.
"I don't know," says Sam.
"Me either," says a voice.
We all turn, guns drawn.
Ugh. It's idiot 1 and 2.
"WHOA! WHOA!" says Ed.
"What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" asks Sam.
"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal ok?"
I roll my eyes. The sound of knives being sharpened echoes up from the basement.
"Oh crap," says Ed.
They both go behind us and face the door.
"Ah guys, you wanna...you wanna open that door for me?" asks Ed.
"Why don't you?" says Dean.
Mordechai blasts through the door, axe ahead, yelling. Sam, Dean and I all shoot at him. Then he disappears into mist. We wait. Dean taps my shoulder and I wait with the idiots while Sam and Dean check the house.
"Oh God. He's gone. He's gone," says Ed.
"Did you get him?" asks Harry.
"Yeah they got him."
"No, on camera, did you get him on camera."
"Well I..."
"Guys I don't really think this is time to check footage," I say.
"Let me see it, let me see it," says Harry.
Harry takes the camera and opens up the viewfinder. An axe slams through the camera. Harry falls to the ground and Mordechai's gone again before I can even aim my gun.
Dean run in, "Hey!" he yells. "Didn't you guys post that B.S. story we gave you?"
"Of course we did," says Ed.
Sam appears next, gun drawn.
"But then our server crashed," says Harry.
"Yeah," agrees Ed.
"So it didn't take?" asks Dean.
Ed and Harry mumble.
"So these guns don't work," says Dean.
"Yeah," says Ed.
"Great," says Dean. "Sam, any ideas?"
"We are getting out of here," says Harry.
"Yeah. Great," says Ed.
Harry and Ed run past Dean into another room. Dean shakes his head. "Munch, with me."
I follow Dean down to the basement. He hands me a can of kerosene.
"Seriously?" I ask.
"Seriously," he says and starts spraying it on the stairs. He pushes me up and I start dousing the house, Dean behind me.
"I'm out," I say to Dean in another room.
"Get out of here," Dean says. "Now!"
I run for the door, which is open. I see Ed and Harry running away in the woods. Good riddance. I wait. Moments later, Sam and Dean come running away from a fire that is suddenly burning in the house.
"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" I ask them.
Dean shrugs.
"That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" asks Sam.
"Well, nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."
"Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?" asks Sam.
"Well then we'll just have to come back."
The house is really burning now.
"Can't he just…stay dead or whatever?" I ask. "I mean he's not like…real? Can't he just stay…nothing?"
"Kinda makes you wonder," says Sam. "Of all the thing we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."
Isn't that just a charming thought.
"And why are we back here?" I ask as we walk through the trailer park.
"Gotta say goodbye to our new friends," says Dean.
"Oh yes. Naturally," I say flatly and climb up and sit on top of a picnic table. "They're our new best friends."
Tweedledee and Tweedledum walk over carrying bags. "Gentleman," says Ed. He looks at me. "Child."
I nod and grimace at the same time to him.
"Hey guys," says Sam.
"Should we tell em?" asks Harry.
"Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades," says Ed.
"So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer."
"Oh yeah, wrong number?" asks Dean.
I laugh.
"No, smart-ass," says Ed. "He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it."
Harry and Ed put their bags in their car. It's practically overflowing.
"And create the RPG," says Harry.
"The what?"
"Role playing game," says Ed.
"Right," says Dean.
"A little lingo for you. Excuse us, we're off to la-la land."
"Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great," says Sam.
"It does?" I ask. Sam elbows me.
"Yeah," says Dean. "That's awesome, best of luck to you."
"Oh yeah, luck," says Ed. "That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent."
"Riiight," I say and nod.
"Later," says Ed.
And Tweedledee and Tweedledum are off in their crappy overloaded car.
"Wow," says Dean.
"I have a confession to make," says Sam.
"What's that?" asks Dean.
"I...uh...I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer."
Dean and I laugh.
"Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat," says Dean.
"That's disgusting!" I say.
Sam and Dean laugh.
"Truce?" asks Sam.
"Yeah truce," says Dean. "At least for the next 100 miles."
We go to the car and I beat Sam to the passenger door. "I win," I grin at him.
"Uh huh," says Sam.
I get in the car and close the door. "Can I still opt out of the pranking insanity?" I ask.
"Oh ho-ho-ho-ho," Dean says fake laughing. He starts the engine. "No."
I better start researching how to catch frogs.