A/N: Okay, here's my next piece! I seriously hope you all enjoy it cause I can tell that it's going to be a blast to write! I wasn't going to write this story because I already had plans for another one, but I seriously couldn't help myself and so here it is! Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing involved with Supernatural aside from the DVD set. I'm writing this for my own enjoyment and I promise to put the characters back where they belong after I'm finished in more or less the same condition that I grabbed them in.
RIVERSIDE SUMMER CAMP
Next to the river, nestled in the thick of a forest, a medium sized campground sat. It had had been untouched and abandoned for over thirty years, a tragedy having struck the grounds last time it was in operation. The tragedy claimed the life of five campers aged 7-10 and although their bodies had been found and pulled from the river, stories about voices, screaming and odd light anomalies still bombarded the area. Then again, that was only to be expected, tragedies often result in ghost stories and everybody loves a good ghost story, right?
The tragedy was known to be true, there were news paper reports of it in the town archives, but as far as the stories went, nobody knew whether to believe them or not. When the campground was bought and repaired the stories flourished, being told to every camper that passed through the front gates, but those that stayed on the grounds swore that nothing had happened. Well, almost nothing.
A young boy huddled in his sleeping bag, afraid to turn over. He'd pressed himself as close to the wall as possible and wished he'd taken the top bunk as opposed to the bottom. Nobody in the cabin seemed to notice the rapid breaths coming from the child for all were sleeping soundly.
'You're in my bunk.' Came the voice that had been taunting the child since nightfall.
The boy whimpered and shoved himself closer to the wall and deeper into his sleeping bag while he tried to shut out the distant voice. There was the feeling of weight on his mattress and he yelped a bit, causing movement to come from the others in the cabin. The boy felt a pull on his sleeping bag, but he refused to move.
'Get out of my bed! Get out of it, now!' The voice snarled.
Frantic tears spilled from the boy's eyes and he curled in on himself. The tugging on the sleeping bag remained and grew in force until the child found himself being pulled from the bed and he landed in a heap on the wooden floor of the cabin. From the next bed over, one of the counselors bolted upright and turned his attention to where the small boy lay crying on the floor.
There was a shift of movement and the man got to his feet and hurried over to where the child was. He dropped to his knees and searched for the bag's opening.
"It generally helps if you stay in the bed." The man replied, peeling the sleeping bag away from the trembling child.
"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" The counselor questioned, his voice and facial expression switching to one of worry and concern.
The child didn't seem to notice the comforting hands on his shoulder as he looked beyond the counselor to a shadowy shape standing next to the furthest door. The moonlight danced across the shadow, illuminating a pale face with deep blue eyes watching the frightened boy maliciously.
"Matt? Matt, what's the matter?" The counselor asked.
"I wasn't in his bed. I swear it." The child replied.
'Liar! You were in my bed.' The shadow snarled.
The counselor looked over his shoulder to where the boy was watching and saw nothing but the closed door. He turned back to the child, confusion in his eyes as he tried to determine if the child was awake or still caught in sleep.
"Matt, can you hear me?" The counselor questioned.
The child nodded, but kept his eyes focused on the shape by the door.
"Tell him that I wasn't in his bed." Matt whimpered, fresh tears spilling over his cheeks.
"Tell who? Matty, there's nobody there, why don't you climb back into bed?"
"No! No, he'll hurt me, he's mad, he told me it was his bed." Matt sobbed.
The counselor, at a loss of what to do pulled the child close to him.
"Okay, okay, it's fine. You can sleep in my bed with me if you want. Is that what you want?"
Matt nodded into the counselor's shoulder and the counselor gathered the seven year old in his arms and carried him to the bed where he slid in after the boy and pulled a comforter over them both. With a final look to the cabin to be sure that all the boys were still asleep, the counselor turned to face the child, who was trembling in what could only be described as fear.
"No way! Do you have any idea what that could do to my reputation, Sammy?" The massive volume of Dean's voice drew attention from those walking by the bench that the brothers were seated on.
"More like what it'll do to your pride. Dean, come on it's only for a week and nobody has to find out." Sam said, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
"I'm not gonna wear khaki shorts and sing songs around the campfire!" Dean snapped, his cheeks flushing crimson as a young woman walked by laughing silently.
"Dean, this is our kind of thing and you know it." Sam said.
"Like hell it is!"
"Dean, you've read the stories. You know that I'm right."
"Damn it man, don't you have any respect for my dignity?" Dean pleaded.
"Am I supposed to say yes at this point?" Sam questioned with a smirk.
"Yes, now would be a good time for that."
"Sorry man, but I really think we should take this job. Besides, I've already called our services in." Sam grinned.
"Sam! What happened to collaboration? Don't I get a say?"
"You get to pick what cabin you supervise." Sam smiled and pushed himself off of the bench.
Dean stared blankly after his brother, his cheeks blushing red and his eyes glaring daggers at the younger Winchester. He pushed himself up and followed Sam, his steps heavy and stalking while a small smile was planted firmly on Sam's lips. This was going to be fun. The youngest brother tossed a glance back at his big brother's stony face and laughed. Yep, this was definitely going to be fun...