Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me and it never will.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to The O'Leary Chronicles: Part 1. It isn't completely necessary to have read that story but it will help you understand some of the things that happen in this one. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.


Chapter One

Bridget's POV

"Well," I said to myself as I stood in my new apartment that was currently furnished by cardboard boxes. "Home sweet home."

After graduation I had gotten a job with Research In Motion in Waterloo Ontario and now, six months later, I had been transferred to the office in Alpharetta Georgia as the server guru. It wasn't the official title but that's how I thought of it. They had set me up with this brand new apartment that I didn't think anyone had ever slept in before. The building was quite old and used to be a brewery but it had just been converted into small apartments.

I had just started to unpack the first box when the lights started to flicker but I shrugged it off as old wiring. Then I realized that all the lights in here were new. The entire building had been gutted before construction had started. Of course that didn't leave me with any explanation as to why the lights were acting weird.

I moved to the hallway thinking to ask the guy across the hall if he was having problems as well. His door was open but I got no reply when I knocked on the door frame. Something was very wrong here. I cautiously stepped into his apartment and entered the kitchen only to freeze at what I saw.

My neighbor was sprawled on the floor with another man bending over him. The other man placed a hand on my neighbor's face and I watched in horror as his skin began to melt. I backed away from the scene but the man straightened and turned to face me flickering as he moved. His face was badly burned and I could see the bone in his cheek.

"Spirit," I said out loud as I realized what the man was. He advanced on me and I looked around for a weapon trying to remember what Dean had told me about spirits. Salt. There on the table to my left was a salt shaker. I snatched it up in one hand and twisted the cover off with the other all the while backing away from the spirit.

My back hit the wall just as I got the cover off the salt shaker and I flung it at the spirit. It immediately dissipated and I took off towards my apartment without looking back at my neighbor who was lying on the floor. I slammed my door and slid the deadbolt into place even though I knew it wouldn't do any good. I leaned against it for a moment to catch my breath before heading to my kitchen. Once there I started ripping boxes open and finally found what I was looking for. A box of salt.

Within fifteen minutes I had made salt lines on the front door and all of the windows. I was safe for now. I wasn't sure what to do next though, but one thing was for sure, there was no way I was leaving my apartment while there was an evil spirit waiting outside my door.