Epilogue – Happily Never After
Amy had fallen asleep in Dean's arms in the couch again. They'd be leaving the next morning, continuing the strenuous journey.
Sam couldn't sleep; he sat at the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee at eleven at night.
There was something wrong. He felt it. His head was hurting. Another damn migraine, he thought, touching his temple sorely. He might as well have had a bruise all over his head.
He couldn't explain it, but the pain grew worse – not a physical pain, but somehow the pain was rushing throughout his entire body.
Grammy was still in jeans and a Kansas band T-shirt before she decided to turn off the TV and go to bed. She yawned, looking up at one of her odd-looking clocks, reading: 11:13.
She shook her head, running her hand through her white hair. Grammy didn't notice that her odd clock, and the others like it, had stopped ticking.
She turned off one of the lamp lights, and was headed toward the hallway where her bedroom was, but stopped when there was a knocking at her door.
She approached slowly, concerned who would come to her house this late at night.
Her hand reached for the doorknob slowly, twisting it gently, as if there was someone else in the house to disturb, and opened the door.
A little girl, wearing a purple dress with pink flowers on it, stood on her doorstep, holding a camera.
"Carina," Grammy grinned down at the girl. She was a daughter of a family who lived up the street.
The girl automatically walked in, silently, and stood in the center of the house.
Grammy closed her door, worried that something had happened, and turned to the twelve-year-old.
"Honey, is something wrong?" Grammy asked nicely.
Carina had a cold face. She normally didn't appear this way. There was something off about the girl…
The child held her hand out. Grammy reached for it slowly, pausing for a second, and held the little girl's hand, as if to comfort her….
She pulled her hand back as if Grammy had touched fire.
"Dear Lord," Grammy gasped, taking a step back, "you're not Carina."
The little girl smiled. Her pretty blue eyes closed, and when the eyelids came back up, there were no longer blue eyes, but yellow.
"I feel like I'm caught in an episode of Scooby Doo," the demon said, using Carina as its puppet. "A whole, big, happy team. Out there fighting the Big Bad." Carina smiled. "And I'm worst of it."
"What do you want…" Grammy demanded. She was stern, brave, but couldn't help but show fear in her eyes. The demon saw this.
The little girl took a step forward, and Grammy took a step back.
"Sam can't be influenced…" Carina's gentle voice spoke. "Dean and Amy…they aren't threats." The girl laughed. "I used to think that girl would be trouble…but she's obviously losing her touch." The demon grinned. "She'll lose all power, soon enough…but you…" The voice was so grotesque, the demon talking through the innocent little girl. "So much power. You may not be close with the Winchesters…but you will be…eventually…I can't let that happen…and you know…" the demon crooned. "You know something's different about Sam. Yet, you didn't tell good ol' Dean…or Amy…"
Grammy scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not afraid of you, demon."
At that moment, Grammy's record player began to play. Sammy Davis' "That Ol Black Magic" began to play loudly. Too loud for Grammy's taste.
The old woman cringed, stepping father away, trying to reach the door.
"Our father, which art in heaven…" Grammy recited sadly, "hallowed be thy name…"
Grammy's body was forced into the wall. She screamed, clawing against the paint as her body floated toward the ceiling. Her head was forced against the ceiling; she felt her cheek slide against the rough ceiling as her back, pinned to the ceiling, reached the center.
The Demon, holding the camera, began to take pictures.
The old woman began to cry and scream. She couldn't move. Blood suddenly appeared near her stomach. She felt her flesh being torn and blood spilling out. Life slipping away.
The little girl was smiling as she looked up, feeling drops of blood fall to her cheek. "Thy kingdom come…" the demon whispered, giggling.
Carina walked toward the door, leaving Grammy on the ceiling, crying, screaming, bleeding…the demon turned back as it walked out the door. The camera was left on the front porch.
And as the demon walked away, from outside the house, fire burst through all the windows. In less than two minutes, the entire house was engulfed in flames…
The Impala could barely park near the house. Amy struggled to get out of the passenger seat as she frantically jumped out, crying, toward Grammy's house.
The neighbors were outside, watching the firefighters try to take control. A police officer was holding a Ziploc bag, with the camera inside, staying up at the house.
Two firefighters came out of the house carrying axes. The fire had been put out.
Amy almost ran inside the house, but Sam was the first one to wrap his arms around her waist.
"Grammy!" Amy wept loudly. "Grammy!"
Dean came to her side, trying to calm her down, but couldn't help but look at the house – its windows and door were black from the fire. Smoke continued to escape from all openings.
Sam had had a vision. Amy and Dean, asleep on the couch, had awoken to Sam screaming. He was already out the door when he was explaining what he had seen…
Grammy…on the ceiling…bleeding…
She tried to escape his grasp; Amy even tried punching Sam's shoulder.
"It's not too late! She can still be in there!" Amy cried. "It's not too late…it's not too late…"
But it was.
Dean had overheard that a firefighter said the entire living room was burnt to a crisp. There was no sign of an old woman. All that was left were burnt pieces of furniture and a large black, burnt spot on the ceiling…
And she couldn't stop crying. Amy fought…trying to get inside the house…and Sam found he was crying too. Dean was kneeling down on one knee, his hand resting on Amy's arm. She had finally collapsed into Sam's arms, crying hysterically.
Once again…an innocent had died…and it was the demon…
Sam, through tears, stared up at the house. The smoke rose high above the house…
The police shoed most of the neighbors away. Some of them were kept to get information on what might have happened…
People lingered, watching Amy and Sam cry, and Dean was speechless. Emotionless.
The smell of smoke filled the area. Tragedy had torn a hole through their hearts. It filled them. And along with Tragedy, came Pain, Loss, Anger…
Sam shook his head furiously. And he stopped crying, but he continued to hold Amy tight.
It had happened again. And Sam didn't understand why. Why Mary? Why Jessica? And Grammy…
Hope was lost that night. Pain found a new home in those three individuals. More smoke appeared, and faith began to dissolve…Whatever Good Dean and Sam found from their previous expeditions, nothing seemed to matter that moment. Night was there. It had claimed one of their own. And day would come…forgetting all about Grammy. And the world would note the terrible accident as a brief tragedy. But there would be at least three people willing to do something about it.
A/N: I really enjoyed "That Ol Black Magic," but I have to admit, I liked this the least of all my stories – just because I put the story on pause for too long, and lost touch with the story's purpose. But yes, I'm already writing Part 5 – which will be a change in how my series will go now. A great turn of events, and all that. I hope you all enjoyed, and please keep an eye out for Part 5 – REVIEWS/COMMENTS APPRECIATED GREATLY, especially since it's the end of this story. I'd like to hear your opinions on the entire story, parts of it, whatever you feel would be great use to me. Thanks again, and keep an eye out for Part 5! Thank you all so much for reading!