His Name Was Death And Hell Followed With Him Chapter 1 Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
His Name Was Death And Hell Followed With Hom
Chapter One
Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
July 20 1927
“You are not real. This is not real.”
“My poor deranged boy; all of those terrible delusions that you suffer from. I assure you though that I am the one thing that is actually real.”
“Not real, not real.”
A man stands up from the rickety wooden chair and takes a step to the side. He waves his hand in a small arc through the air and the young boy lying on the bed writhes in
pain.
His agonized screams echo across the room.
“Is that real enough for you?” The man asks with a cruel smirk.
The boy keeps screaming, his body twisting and contorting into the most inhuman positions.
“I could continue this for as long as… well until hell freezes over.”
The boy finally lies still, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
“If I am being honest, I will never completely tire of doing this but with you, it’s starting to wear a little thing; what with me being the one to do most of the talking.”
“Leave me alone, you are not real.”
The man sighs heavily and pulls the wooden chair closer to the bedside, the legs scrap on the bare concrete floor; the sound was ear piercing and it even makes the man
cringe.
“Right, well how about I continue to talk about my plans for you,” he says. “Because they are rather spectacular if I do say so myself.”
The boy shakes his head, his long dark bangs falling into his eyes. “Not real.”
The man closes his eyes and pounds his fist on his knee.
“Do I need to break your other for you to fully understand that I am indeed real?”
The boy falls completely silent and it only aggravates the man more.
“Right then,” he says as he lifts his hand again.
They boy squirms on the bed. “Please now, please don’t do this.”
“Then give me what I want and I just might leave you alone,” he replies. “Might being the operative word of course.”
The boy convulses again without the man having to do a damn thing and he chuckles to himself but it quickly loses its appeal and he reaches out and places his hand on the
boys arm, after a moment, he goes still.
“Are you ready to listen to reason yet?”
The boy tilts his head to look at the man. “Will you leave me be if I do what you ask of me?”
The man shrugs his shoulders. “Perhaps, but you will never know until you try?”
“What do you want me to do?” The boy asks.
The man’s lips curls into an evil smirk. He holds his hand out and in a swirl of black smoke, a small gun appears and the boy’s eyes grow wide in fear.
“What is… what is that?”
The man cocks an eyebrow at him. “You cannot honestly lie there and tell me that you have no idea what a gun is.”
The boy just stares at him, the fear still very evident in his eyes.
“This my boy is a Ceska Zbrojovka vz. 27,” he explains and when the boy continues to look at him with a blank stare, the man sighs again. “This is a gun and I want you to
take this gun and use it.”
The boy swallows hard and shakes his head. “This cannot be real. I cannot use a gun.”
“Hell boy, do not start that again,” he tells him. “What do you say? Are you going to what I ask?”
The boy squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can. “What do you need me to do with it?”
The man finally smiles a genuine smile. “Good, now we are getting somewhere.”
The man leans forward and whispers into the boy’s ear and with every word, his eyes grow wider.
The man places the gun into the boys hand and then stands up.
“For every passing day that you do not do what I ask, I will be forced to break another bone.”
July 28 1927
The boy stands nervously in the corner of the room. The gun he had been given was tucked into the waistband of his pajama pants.
For seven days he had tried to ignore what the man was asking of him but the pain he had endured on the previous day had been enough to encourage him to finally do it.
The other patients were completely oblivious to what was happening.
Most were too preoccupied with their books or their games to pay attention to what he was doing.
Chewing on his bottom lip, he reaches to his waistband and pulls out the gun.
He had no idea what he was doing, he had never used a gun before and the through of doing so; it terrified him.
The thought of having another broken bone had urged him to continue his ‘mission’.
Drawing in a deep shaky breath, he takes a step forward and holds the gun out in front of him; he takes a cautious step forward and presses his finger against the trigger.
He certainly had no idea about the mechanics of personally using the gun, the blow back stuns him and causes him to rock back on the balls of his feet.
The bullet sails through the air so fast that he has no time or sense to track it, at least not until he sees Vincent Flynn, the man who had once been his roommate, slump over
in his chair and then topple to the ground.
The horror of what he had just done registers on his face, eyes wide and mouth open, it was the same look the other patients showed.
Chaos broke out then, orderlies appeared through several different doorways and they rushed in to try and remove the patients from the room; no one had quite figured out
where the shooter was yet and that was when the man’s voice filled his conscience again, urging him to do it again, to keep going.
It was as if he had no control over what he was doing, he couldn’t seem to control his own limbs and it scares him. He raises the gun once more and fires off another shot.
Maryanne Parker was the next victim, shot through the shoulder, blood pooling on her hospital issued robe.
It continued like this for what felt like a lifetime and when he had gunned down two more innocent people, he stood in the middle of the room, the hospital security pleading
with him to put the gun down, to not hurt anyone else.
His entire life he had been called crazy, a delusional young man who needed professional help. He had been abandoned to this place by his parents when he was barely 14
years old.
Despite his odd behavior due to mental health issues, he had considered himself a good boy, he had never intentionally hurt anyone.
Until now that was, standing in that room, the smell of blood lingering in the air, he knew right from wrong and he knew that what he had just done, was the worst kind of
wrong.
The voices of the hospital staff begin to blur together, filing his head with confusing, nonsensical gibberish.
He would go to hell for the sins he had committed this day and he knew deep down that he deserved that.
Glancing down at the gun in his hand, he can smell the acrid odor of gunpowder and he tilts the gun, the barrel pointed at his chest.
Knowing what he has to do now, he lifts the gun higher and looks straight down the barrel.
Movement to his right caught his attention and for a brief moment he glances up, the man was wearing a suit now and he was standing in a pool of blood, his arms folded
tightly across his chest, that cold evil smirk upon his lips.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the boy looks back at the gun and without hesitating, he pulls the trigger.
The bullet rips through his skull creating a hole the size of a grapefruit.
“Could not have committed a finer massacre than if I tried.” The man in the suit says as he bends down and runs his index finger through the pool of blood.
July 20 1998
It was moments like these when Dean Winchester hated being a big brother.
He had been fast asleep, wrapped up in the warm covers of his bed when the phone had rung and on the other end of the line was a Deputy from the Douglas County
Sheriff’s Department informing him that his baby brother Sam had been picked up by a Deputy for trespassing on a property in East Lawrence.
Glancing at the clock on the dashboard of his precious Impala, he curse under his breath when he sees that it reads 2:37am.
He pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine.
Before removing the keys from the ignition, he pounds his fist on the steering wheel and curses his brother again.
With a heavy sigh, he climbs out of the car and slams the door shut.
He takes the front steps two at a time and pushes open the glass double doors.
Stepping into the main lobby, he can see Rebecca sitting at the desk, she had been the receptionist there for as long as Dean could remember.
“Dean.”
Dean spins on his heel and sees Sheriff Burton standing in the doorway to her office, he doesn’t even have a chance to say hello to Rebecca before he’s being ushered into
the room.
Sheriff Burton closes the door and motions for Dean to take a seat.
“First things first Dean, this will be the last time that I call you. This is the second time this year that one of my Deputies have picked them up, third time, I will have no choice
but to call your parents.”
Dean sighs heavily and slouches down in the chair. “Yeah, I understand Sheriff, I really do appreciate you calling me and not John.
Sheriff Burton sits down in her chair and moves around a stack of files on the desk.
“So…” Dean begins. “What did they do this time?”
Sheriff Burton opens one of the folders and pulls out a police report. “They were caught trespassing on the old Martin property.”
Dean squeezes his eyes shut and mutters under his breath.
“What was that?” Sheriff Burton asks.
“They were there to look for…” Dean can’t quite bring himself to say the words but does anyway. “Ghosts, they were searching for Ghosts weren’t they?”
Sheriff Burton glances down at the folder, her lips pressed in a firm line.
“I knew it,” Dean snaps. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told him not do that but he never fuc… he never listens to me.”
Dean sits in silence while Sheriff Burton writes additional notes into the files, when she’s finished, she places the folder back onto the stack and then pushes her chair back.
He follows her silently down the corridor toward the holding cells.
Dean soon sees Sam sitting on one of the benches, Jo and Jess were sitting opposite him but he couldn’t see Ash.
“Jail, Sam Winchester. Really?”
Sam bolts to his feet and spins on his heel. “Dean?”
Dean disappointingly shakes his head. “Seriously Sam, what on earth were you thinking?”
Sam takes a step forward and shrugs his shoulders in the process. “I was thinking that it would be a little harmless fun. No one was going to get hurt so what’s the big deal?”
Sheriff Burton steps forward, the cell keys rattling in her hand. “The big deal Sam, is that you broke the law for the second time. The next time that this happens, I won’t be
calling Dean to come and pick you up.”
Sam swallows hard and nods back at her before dropping his gaze to the floor. “I understand and I’m sorry, genuinely sorry.”
He glances over his shoulder at Jo and Jess who wave half-heartedly at him.
Sam steps out of the cell and watches as Sheriff Burton closes and locks the door again.
A moment later she points toward the door leading to the main lobby and they follow her out to the reception area, Sheriff Burton speaks to Rebecca and then turns back to
Sam and Dean.
“I really do want this to be the last time that this happens Sam,” she tells him. “I am serious. If I or one of my Deputies picks you up again, I will have to press charges.”
Sam nods again, a shameful expression written across his face.
Dean grab’s Sam by the arm and pulls him toward the door. “We’re leaving now and Sam promises that this won’t happen again, don’t you Sam.”
Sam mumbles something that Dean doesn’t quite catch but he lets it go as he drags Sam out to the car.
“I swear to god Sam, what were you thinking?” Dean asks his brother again.
Sam slumps down into the front passenger seat, not even 16 years old and he was already well clear of six feet tall, Dean couldn’t help but think how awkward he looked
sitting there, his long lanky limbs folded into the seat.
“I honestly didn’t think that we were causing any problems. We weren’t going to do anything, it’s not like we would have blown the place up or anything.”
Dean squeezes his eyes shut and sucks in a deep breath. “Then what the hell were you doing there?”
Sam rolls his eyes and stares out the window. “You know what we were doing.”
“You need to stop with that crap. Ghost hunting? When the hell did that become your hobby?”
“It’s not crap,” Sam retorts. “I don’t even really believe it myself, like I said, we were just having some harmless fun.”
Dean pounds his fist on the steering wheel, second time of the night and he wondered if it would be the last. “Why ghost hunting?”
Sam shrugs his shoulders. “Can we just let this go? I’ve already been in a jail cell tonight, I’m tired and I don’t want a lecture from you.”
Dean whips his head around to glare at Sam. “I should kick your ass is what I should do.”
A couple of minutes later, Dean pulls the car into the driveway of his parent’s house and cuts the engine.
He watches as Sam reaches for the handle but then he grabs Sam’s arm.
“I want you to promise me that you won’t do this again. That you’ll stop with the occult bullshit.”
Sam sighs heavily, glances toward the house and then back at Dean. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”
Dean didn’t believe him, not for a second.
July 22 1998
Dean walked across the garage floor to where John and Bobby were busily discussing some sports team or game or whatever the hell it was that they talked about.
Dean wasn’t really one for sports, sure he would watch a game here and there if his old man was around but it wasn’t something he was interested in on his own.
“Baseball or football?” Dean asks as he approaches them.
John looks up at his oldest son and shakes his head. “Baseball but we’re done talking about it now, what’s up?”
Dean taps his watch without looking at it. “Lunch and I dunno about you but I’m starving. You guys want anything?”
“No, not if you’re getting it from the diner,” John says. “I brought something from home.”
“Of course you did,” Dean retorts. “What about you Bobby? You want anything?”
“You gonna eat there?” He asks as he adjust his baseball cap.
“Was thinking about it, you want me to bring something back for you?”
“Coffee.”
Dean nods in response and then cocks an eyebrow at his father. “What?”
“What the fuck is wrong with the coffee I make here?” John demands to know.
“That gut rot,” Bobby says with a shake of his head. “All your ranting about eating healthy and you chug down as much of that crap as you can. That’s not coffee it’s thick dirt
water.”
John ignores him after that and returns his attention to the motor they’re supposed to be working on.
“Great,” Dean says. “I’ll bring you back a coffee.”
Bobby doesn’t say anything, just waves his hand in Dean’s general direction.
The diner was only one block away so Dean made it there in under five minutes. Pushing open the door, he can see that it isn’t very busy, not even during the lunch rush and
pleased that that means he’ll get his usual table.
He tucks himself into the booth at the back of the diner and glances up to see Courtney heading his way carrying the coffee pot.
He holds up the mug willingly and with a smile as she approaches the table and pours him a cup.
“How’s it going sweetie?”
He sucks in a deep breath and takes a mouthful before answering.
“You know, same old… bullshit.”
She laughs to herself and shakes her head. “It always brightens my day when you come in here Dean, thank you for that.”
He shrugs his shoulders and takes another mouthful.
“You want your usual?” She asks after a beat and he nods back at her. “Coming right up sweetie.”
Dean watches as she disappears behind the counter and ands the cook his order.
Several minutes later Courtney returns with Dean’s food and places it down on the table.
“Is there anything else that I can get for you?”
“No, I’m good Court, thanks.”
Dean only picks at is lunch, before arriving at the diner, he was starving, famished even but now not so much for some reason.
Pushing his fries around his plate, he glances up when the bell above the door jingles and someone walks over to the counter where Courtney was standing.
He narrows his eyes and studies the man, he’s positive that he’s seen him somewhere before but he can’t quite seem to place him.
Straining to listen to their conversation, he can make out the occasional word but none of them mean anything to him.
A few minutes later the man at the counter turns and looks directly at Dean.
He just seems to stand there staring at him but Dean doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all and then the man gives him a slight wave before heading towards the door.
Not long after that Courtney returns to the table with a fresh pot of coffee.
“You need a refill hon?”
Dean shakes his head. “Not for me, I’ll get a cup to go and just the check thanks.”
Courtney starts to walk away but Dean calls out to her and she turns back to face him.
“Do you know who that guy is?”
Courtney glances toward the door and then back at Dean. “Honestly, I have no idea what his name is but I think that he’s some sort of Doctor over at that old mental
hospital.”
Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Broken Creek Institution?”
Courtney nods back at him. “Yeah, that’s the place.”
“Sure, okay.” Dean replies.
Courtney shrugs her shoulders. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you more.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dean answers. “I was just curious, thought that I’d seen him somewhere before.”
“He comes in a couple of times a week sweetie, you’ve probably seen him here.”
“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Dean replies.
Courtney taps her finger on the table top again. “Okay hon, I’ll bring the check over.”
July 28 1998
“This place, there is something so wrong here,” Jess says. “We really shouldn’t be here and you know it.”
Ash moves up behind her and drapes his arm across her shoulders. “What are you talking about? This place is awesome, it’s all puppies and fairy floss.”
Jess tilts her head to look up at him. “Yeah, I was right after all. This is exactly the place for you Ash.”
He grins back at her and then glances over his shoulder. “What are you guys doing? Hurry the hell up.”
A few minutes later, Jo appears, her arms folded across her chest and a disgusted look on her face.
She carried a backpack and had to keep adjusting the strap.
“Sam Winchester, this was your damn idea,” Jo calls out. “What are you doing?”
Sam appears a moment later, a plastic shopping bag in one hand and a flashlight in the other. “So much for keeping the noise to a minimum guys. I think the whole block
heard you.”
Ash runs in a circle around him and slaps him on the back. “Whatever dude, we doing this or what?”
Sam nods back at him. “Yes, we are going to do this, let’s go.”
He points the torch toward the hedge and they all turn to see a small opening, it looked barely big enough to fit through.
“I am not going in there,” Jo says. “Why the hell are we doing this?”
Sam slings his arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, you worry too much.”
Ash leads the way through the hedge followed by Jess, then Sam and lastly Jo who was protesting the entire time.
They emerge on the other side and find themselves in a decaying courtyard.
Broken pieces of furniture litter the ground and an old metal garbage can had been tipped on its side and garbage spilled out, the contents smelled even worse than it looked.
Across the yard there were shards of glass embedded into the brick, the windows of the first floor had been smashed in and jagged pieces still protruded from the sills.
“Sam, this place is disgusting, we shouldn’t he here. We’re going to get into trouble.” Jess says.
Sam takes a few steps forward, tucks the flashlight under his arm and runs his finger over the arm of a surprisingly still upright bench.
“It’s not that bad and they don’t use this part of the building anymore. They haven’t in like five years.” Sam tells her.
Jess scoffs at him and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, there’s a reason it’s not used anymore Sam but they still have Security Guards, we’re going to get caught.”
“Well we better hurry up then.” Ash chimes in.
They all have to step around piles of garbage and Jess scrunches up her nose when she almost steps in a mound of something that she didn’t want to know the origins of.
“Okay,” Sam says turning to look at the others. “The room is on the third floor, the rec room I think.”
“You think?” Jo replies, her tone harsher than she intended.
“No, it’s second floor?” Sam tells her.
“You don’t seem so sure.” Ash says with a smirk.
“Bite me.” Sam snaps at him.
“It’s the third floor.” Jess says a moment later.
“God, what the hell is wrong me, why do I let you talk me into doing this stupid shit,” Jo says. “Why do you do this?”
“Well basically,” Sam begins. “I only do this because Dean told me not to.”
“Maybe he’s right Sam,” Jess says. “You should listen to him a little more often.”
Sam cocks an eyebrow at her. “Why would I do that? Come on Jess, you’re not afraid are you? You’ve never been afraid of this stuff before.”
Jess sighs heavily and crosses her arms over her chest. “He’s right though Sam. We may have gotten lucky before, getting away with it, but eventually we’re going to get into
a lot of trouble.”
Sam shakes his head and side steps around an old broken beer bottle. “Not if we’re quick and don’t make noise.”
“Ooo, dirty.” Ash says with a laugh.
Jess glares at her friend. “You’re not helping.”
Sam takes a tentative step closer to her.
“Why is it so important for you to do this?” She questions him.
Sam takes a moment to think about it and then shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t really know.”
Jess angrily shakes her head, her long blonde hair falling across her face. “That’s not a reason.” She tucks the loose strands behind her ears.
“You know that I don’t actually believe the stories Jess,” he tells her. “It would be nice to prove people wrong but… this is just something to do, okay.”
“Yeah well, that’s what is going to get you into trouble Sam,” she says. “You never listen and it’s annoying.”
He moves toward her and places his hands on her shoulders. “I know I can be annoying sometimes but isn’t that part of the reason why you love me?”
He stands there with a stupid grin plastered across his face and Jess rolls her eyes. She knew that was the reason, it was always the reason why Sam did the stupid things
that he did.
The more Dean and everyone else told him not to do something, the more determined he was to do it.
“Okay, enough with the bitching, let’s do this damn thing.” Ash says.
Sam leads the way toward the door and reaches out for the handle. It’s almost rusted shut and he has to use all his strength to open it.
A few minutes later they make their way inside the building and instantly Jess has to swallow the lump that’s formed in her throat and she jumps every time her arm brushes
against a cobweb.
She lets out a startled scream when a particularly nasty clump of cobweb falls onto her shoulder.
Sam and Ash spin around and Ash immediately begins to laugh as she desperately tries to brush it off.
“This is so gross,” Jess cries out. “Can we please just get this damn thing over with?”
Sam nods back at her and reaches out to take her hand in his. “Yeah, the stairs are this way, let’s go.”
After a few minutes they manage to find the stairwell and Sam pushes open the door.
The stairs were almost worse than the room they had come in through. Thick layers of dust and cobweb covered every conceivable surface and there was just as much trash
scattered about as there was in the courtyard.
“Someone want to tell me why we’re doing this again?” Jo asks no one in particular.
They cautiously make their way up the stairs.
Sam and Ash have to use all their strength to push open the door that will take them to the third floor.
The door finally gives way with a loud crack, sending a billowing cloud of dust into the air.
It takes another five minutes before they manage to find the Rec room.
This door gives way with little fight and Sam holds it open for the others. When they’re all inside, he closes the door again.
The room is strangely tidy, there’s not a single speck of dust, and not a cobweb in sight and it sends a shiver down Sam’s spine.
The only furniture in the room is a desk in perfect condition which was pushed against the far right wall.
“There is something so not right about this place.” Jess says.
No one replies.
Ash dumps the contents of the backpack onto the floor, the spirit board, a couple of candles, a flashlight and a lighter.
“We need to set up these candles.” Sam announces.
Along with Jess, Sam sets up the candles around the room while Ash and Jo set up the stuff on the floor.
As soon as the candles are lit the flames flicker casting eerie shadows across the walls.
Jo looks up at Sam and he can see a fear in her eyes that wasn’t there earlier.
“It’s going to be okay,” he tells her. “Anything weird starts to happen and we’ll leave.”
She nods back at him and helps Ash finish setting up.
A few minutes later they form a circle around the spirit board.
“Does everyone have their charm?” Jess ask.
They all nod in response and show her the charm they’re wearing around their necks.
It had been Jess’ idea, she had found them online, a so called protective amulet to make sure that no evil spirits could attach themselves to them.
Sam had laughed at first thinking it was a silly but Jess has insisted, better to be safe than sorry.
******
Dean pushes open the door with the toe of his shoe and steps into the pitch black room.
He fumbles for the light switch and quickly discovers that his little brother Sam wasn’t tucked up in bed asleep like he should have been.
Moving toward the bed, he lifts the covers and sees the pathetic arrangement of pillows that Sam had placed there.
Like that would have fooled anyone.
“Damn you Sammy.” He mutters under his breath.
Stepping back out into the hall, he calls out to Mary. “Mom, he’s done it again. Sam isn’t in his room.”
A moment later a door down the hall swings open and Mary steps out. “Are you sure? He isn’t just in the bathroom or something?”
Dean shakes his head. “Nope, the little brat’s taken off again. He’ll be with Jess or Ash, do you want me to go and find him?”
Mary ducks back into the bedroom and then emerges again a moment later, her robe in her hands.
“Perhaps I should go with you?”
Dean reaches out and places a hand on her arm. “It’s fine Mom. It never takes me long to find them. I always know where he ends up.”
“Are you sure sweetie?” Mary replies. “I really don’t mind at all.”
Dean leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. “It’s fine. Go back to bed and I’ll be back in no more than an hour.”
Mary crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorframe. “Please do try and be back soon. Your father will be home around 11 and I’d really prefer Sam to be
back in his bed by then.”
Dean nods back at her and then disappears down the stairs. Mary can hear him in the kitchen getting the keys from the bowl on the counter and then the kitchen door
opening and closing.
She loved her boys more than anything but sometimes she wished it were a little easier to raise two boys, they were forever creating trouble.
Dean climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, the stereo came on automatically and music blasts from the speakers, he had forgotten to turn it down when he’d
gotten home from work that afternoon.
Sighing heavily, he pulls the car out of the drive and heads toward the edge of town.
He had heard Sam on the phone with Jess earlier that day talking about the abandoned buildings at the Broken Creek Mental Institution, so if Sam had snuck out of the
house, that was the most likely place he would find him.
Dean couldn’t believe that he was doing this again, it was only a month ago that he had had to pick him up from the Sheriff’s Station.
Why wouldn’t Sam listen to him?
Dean was forever telling Sam to ignore the rumors and myths about the town they lived in, but Sam was 15 now and had tendency to believe everything he heard. That or he
just liked pissing his family off.
Nearly 10 minutes later, Dean pulls the car up to the curb outside the north entrance of Broken Creek.
The entrance that hadn’t been used in almost five years. The sign was faded and the paint was peeling off, he could barely make out the name of the place.
Just beyond the 6ft high hedge, he could just make out the rundown building, the darkened windows and the eerie feel of the place sent a chill down his spine and he
hesitates before opening the door.
When he’s finally standing on the curb, he glances around to see if he can spot Sam’s car.
There was a blue Mercedes-Benz parked just down the street but Dean couldn’t see Sam’s old Toyota Cressida.
Just the thought of even mentioning the name of that stupid car hurt Dean, it had belonged to their Mother and when Sam had gotten his driver’s permit a few months earlier,
she had happily handed the keys over to him.
Dean had hope that one day it would break down beyond repair and they could get rid of the damn thing.
Dean thought that maybe he would teach Sam to drive the Impala, the car that his Dad had gotten him for his 16th birthday.
But on the other hand, Dean never wanted to let Sam behind the wheel of his precious baby.
Shaking his head, he wanders down the sidewalk a little ways, when he reaches the corner he again looks out for Sam’s car and parked almost at the next block was the
Toyota.
“Fucking Sam.”
Drawing in a deep breath he turns to the hedge, there were a few gaps and holes but none that he really wanted to go through.
Running his hand over his hair, he pushes his way through the hedge and just prays that Sam is close by because he really does not want to inside that building.
******
“Okay, so how does this work?” Jo asks.
Sam places the pointer onto the board. “I guess we just start by asking questions.”
“Dude, you’re doing a lot of guessing.” Ash says.
“Everyone be quiet,” Sam tells them. He lights the last two candles and the closes his eyes. “Is there anyone here? If you can hear us, give us a sign.”
The others glances around the room not really sure what they were expecting to find.
“Does anyone want to talk to us?” Sam asks.
The room is silent bar the pounding of his own heart.
“Is anyone here?”
A moment later the sound of a door creaking open echoes throughout the room.
Both girls jump and Jo reaches out and grabs Ash’s arm, he protests verbally but makes no move to remove her hand.
“You all heard that right?” Jess asks.
Ash nods, his eyes wide with fear.
“Is somebody there?” Sam calls out. “Does anyone want to talk to us?”
This time Jo has to muffle a scream when very clear and very distinct footsteps sound across the room.
Sam glances down at the spirit board, his eyes widening in horror. “Uh guys.”
They all focus on the board and Jo screams again.
Sam picks up the pen and notepad and starts writing it down.
“What the fuck dude,” Ash cries out. “This is actually happening right?”
“Sam, this isn’t right,” Jess whispers to him. “We shouldn’t stay here.”
Sam shakes his head and focuses on the pointer as it moves swiftly across the board.
“What’s it saying?” Ash wants to know.
Sam continues writing as beads of sweat appear on his forehead.
A moment later he holds the notepad up for them to see and Jess gasps as she reads the words out loud.
“Dude that is seriously messed up.” Ash says.
Jess repeats the words because none of this seems real.
‘DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU’
“Sam, I want to go home.” Jess tells him.
“Wait,” Ash cries out. “It’s moving again.”
The pointer starts moving and Sam writes it down, when he shows them the new words, he doesn’t need a mirror to tell him that he’s as white as a sheet.
“Oh god,” Jess whispers. “’DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU… SAM WINCHESTER’.”
The candles flicker in an invisible wind and the sound of a door slamming causes them all to get to their feet.
“This is so not good,” Jess says. “We need to leave, now!”
Sam nods back at her and they start gathering their things together.
Sam moves to blow out the candles but Jo grabs his arm and points to the corner.
When Jess sees it, she lets out a blood curdling scream.
Standing in the corner of the room was a shadowy figure, it was too dark to make out any features but when it took a step forward, Jo and Jess bolt to the door.
Jo manages to yank it open and they tumble out into the hall.
“What about the stuff?” Ash asks as he and Sam move to the door.
“Leave it,” Sam tells him. “We have to go.”
The four of them run down the corridor as fast as they can.
When they reach the end of the hall, Sam notices that the layout seems to have mysteriously changed, what was a main room was now another corridor.
“What are we going to do?” Jess asks through her tears.
Ash grabs Jo’s hand and they start running.
“No wait.” Sam calls out but they don’t stop.
“Sam we need to go.”
He nods back at takes her hand, they start running after Ash and Jo.
A few minutes later though, they need to stop, Jess’ breath catches in her throat and she feels like she’s going to throw up.
“I feel like I can’t breathe,” Jess tells him. “This is crazy Sam what are we going to do?”
“We need to find the stairs.” Sam tells her.
Jess nods and goes to lean against the wall for support but Sam grabs her arm and pulls her toward him.
He points at the wall and Jess freezes in fear.
Blood dripped down the wall, the words DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU appear and she screams again.
She presses her face against his chest and sobs loudly.
“We’ll find the stairs,” Sam says. “But maybe we should check out some of these rooms. I noticed that they had fire escapes.”
Jess nods again. “Okay.”
“I know you don’t want to split up but we have to,” Sam tells her and she vehemently shakes her head. “I’ll take this room, you take that one.”
“Sam no, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“It will only be for a moment, if that room has a fire escape, call out and I’ll be right there.”
They each take a room, Jess moves as fast as she can, she reaches the window and then has to use all of her strength to open it.
When she sees the fire escape, she almost laughs but then turns toward the wall and screams out for Sam.
He doesn’t answer.
Before she can give herself a chance to be afraid, she makes her way to the hall, calling out to Sam.
Pushing the door open she peers into the room.
“Sam?”
Still no answer.
“Sam, where are you?”
Tears spill down her cheeks and she screams his name.
Footsteps behind her make her blood run cold and she hesitantly spins on her heel.
The yellow beam of a flashlight washes over her and she lets out a deep sigh.
“Damn it Sam, you scared me half to death.”
“Who is Sam?”
Her throat tightens at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.
“Miss, you need to come with me,” a man tells her. “Your buddies are already downstairs and you’re all trespassing.”
Jess follows him down a hallway toward the stairs, the some ones they hadn’t been able to find just minutes earlier.
They eventually make their way out into the courtyard and when she sees Jo and Ash she runs over to them, Jo pulls her into a hug.
“Where’s Sam?” Jess asks.
Jo stares back at her. “We thought that he was with you.”
Jess shakes her head and then the three of them turn to look up at the building.
Even in the darkness they all see the same shadowy figure standing at the window.
******
Dean breaks into a run when he hears someone screaming.
Making his way through the building, he stops abruptly when the light from a torch shines into his eyes.
“Who are you?” A voice calls out. “What are you doing here?”
Dean takes a step forward and lets out a deep sigh when he sees a Security Guard.
“I’m Dean Winchester,” he tells him. “I’m looking for my brother and his friends.”
The guard shakes his head. “Not in here, they’re already downstairs, which is where you should be.”
A few minutes later Dean finds himself back in the courtyard, he was just thankful to be out of that damn place.
They round the corner and he can see Jess and Jo sitting on a bench, Ash was pacing back and forth behind them while two Security Guards were busy talking.
“I could kill the lot of you,” Dean says as he approaches them. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Jess jumps up and runs to Dean. “I’m so sorry.”
Dean glances around, looking for Sam.
“Where is my brother, I have to strangle him.”
Jess glances at the others before looking back at Dean and then she shakes her head.
“What’s going on?” Dean asks. “Where is he?”
Jess shakes her head again. “I don’t know Dean. One minute he was right there, the next he was just… gone.”
“What the fuck?” Dean cries out. He draws in a deep breath and nods to himself. “It’s okay, he can’t have gotten far, and we’ll find him.”
“You won’t be doing anything.” One of the guards tells Dean. “I’ve already called the Sheriff, if there is someone else in that building, we will find them but you won’t be going
back in there.”
Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me, my brother is in there somewhere, I’m going in there.”
The guard shakes his head. “No you’re not, you’ll let Sheriff Burton do her job.”
“What do you mean there was no one else in there?” Dean cries out. “I’m telling you that my brother is in that building, why would I make that up?”
Dean and Jess were standing in front of the Director of Broken Creek Institution.
Dean had spent the better part of 30 minutes trying to convince the man that Sam was still in the building somewhere.
Sheriff Burton had told Dean herself that even though they had done a thorough search, they hadn’t found Sam. She had even brought in one of the dogs who hadn’t been
able to pick up Sam’s scent.
He had wanted to go in and look for himself but they refused, saying that he had no right to be there in the first place.
“I need to use a phone,” Dean says. “If you’re not going to do your damn job, then I need to call someone who will.”
The Director shifts from one foot to the other. “Mr. Winchester, there’s no need to take that tone. My staff and the Sheriff’s Department have searched the premises and have
found nothing, but please call someone to come and pick you up.”
Dean glares back at him. “I don’t need someone to pick me up, I am going to have someone come over here and search the place again.”
The Director vaguely points to the phone on his desk and Dean picks it up. He really didn’t want to make this call, it was the last thing he wanted to do, and his father was
going to be pissed.
But the truth was that Sam was missing and Dean couldn’t just let it go, he couldn’t just wait for Sam to get bored or to wait for the trouble to pass and come slinking home
with his tail between his legs.
He had to do something, now.
Drawing in a deep breath, he dials the number and waited for his father to pick up on the other end.
“Dad, it’s me,” Dean starts. “Something’s happened.”
July 20 2000
Dean pushes open the kitchen door and steps into the room, it looked like no one was awake but he could hear the television on in the other room.
Most likely his mother had fallen asleep in the armchair again.
She’d been doing that for a while now and it still broke his heart every time he came home from work and found her like that.
He quietly slips into the living room and sees her fast asleep, moving across the room. He leans down in front of the chair and taps her on the arm.
“Mom.”
She shifts and slowly opens her eyes, she smiles when she sees Dean. “I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”
Dean nods back at her. “Yeah but that’s okay.”
“Dean, what day is it again?” She asks him.
“It’s still Tuesday, Mom.” He replies with a sad smile.
“730 days.”
Dean narrows his eyes, any semblance of a smile quickly disappearing. “Mom…”
She sits up and wipes a tear from her cheek. “It’s been 730 days since Sam disappeared.”
Dean stood up and took a few steps back, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he had last seen his baby brother and just like every day before now and how it
will be every day after, his heart aches.
Chapter Two