A/N: As promised, here is my next story. It's a bit of a combination of things. A little crack, a little gore, and a jab at where I work. It's also a birthday present. HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEANUT!!!!
LOVE YA, SIS. I tried to nail your personality (no pun intended…nope, not at all) don't hate me…*runs and hides*
Enjoy the story…
Trouble Down Aisle Seven
Dean leaned over Sam, smoothing his hair back. Sam's brow knotted in pain and his eyes, washed out and looking more gray than blue green, opened to slits before slamming shut again. He moaned.
"Heya Sammy. Can ya swallow some Tylenol?"
"Mmhnn." Sam said, lifting a hand and rubbing his temple with the butt of his palm. Dean helped Sam sit up and handed him two of the white pills. He dry swallowed them and chased the taste away as Dean handed him a can of Seven Up from the pop machine outside the room.
"I hate the flu." Sam muttered, swallowing as he shifted back down into the pillow. He moaned again and his eyes slid shut.
"Just relax and get some sleep. We'll chill here for a few days and then hit the road for the next job."
"Do we even have a job?"
"You know we always find something to toast. Thought we'd head east, check out Ocean City, pick up a couple chicks…"
"Ugh…" Sam said, turning his head and burying it in the pillow. Stale smoke and sweat greeted his nose and made his already churning stomach tip dangerously. He lifted his head and tried to find fresh air to quell the nausea. He laid his throbbing head gingerly on the pillow and breathed through his nose, finally drifting off.
Dean watched his brother for a moment before moving to the small, wobbly table in the corner of the room. He poured himself a cup of cheap motel coffee and settled in front of the laptop,. He began searching for a job along the east coast.
Nick Landry poked his head into the employee lounge to see his most trusted retail assistant hanging up her jacket.
"'ello Nick." She answered in her English accent.
"Thanks for volunteering to do the lawn and garden reset tonight."
"Not a problem. I don' mind the shift. Besides, gives me a chance to write when I get home before I'm ready for bed." She said, following Nick to where two pallets of spring merchandise awaited someone to put it on display. She looked at the pictures on some of the boxes as Nick chuckled.
"You and your stories." Gillian picked up a box when she saw the statuary it contained, a flower pot about a foot tall. It was shaped like a human head connected directly to stubby legs with no torso. It looked like an overly large, crying baby.
"I'm made up I'm gonna write one 'bout this place, some o' the stuff ya get in." She said, pulling a face as she looked over the line of pottery, seeing each different expression, from one resembling an old man smoking a pipe to one looking like a man with a lascivious grin on his face. Nick shook his head.
"I'll see ya at seven."
"You will do." Nick turned off all the lights at the circuit panel except the lawn and garden center and the warehouse, locking the door as he left. Gillian pulled her I-pod from her pocket and turned it on, smiling as AC/DC began to play. She picked up the box containing the crying statue again. "My, but you are an ugly li'l bit o' work." Unpacking the box, she turned the statue over. "Made in Flores. Nick, what blind man finds ya these oddities?" She placed the little statue on the end of an aisle and arranged a little topper of artificial greenery, giving him hair. "There now, at least you're not so butt-ugly then."
Gillian turned to reach for another box and unpacked another statue. It was the same type of statue, this one pale white and looked like an old, wrinkly woman. Gillian shook her head and giggled. "There's no help a'tall for you." She placed the rest of the statues, one seemingly uglier than the next. Reading the last box, she saw the old man statue with the pipe in his mouth below his big nose. "An' you're all called Mugly? Shoulda been Fugly."
She moved off to stock a case of seed starting trays. Placing the last of seven trays, she stopped when her I-pod abruptly shut off. "Damn, forgot to change me batt'ries." She made her way through the dimly lit store to the warehouse and into the lounge, digging in her purse for new batteries. Walking back out, she pried the lid off the I-pod and pulled out the dead batteries, placing her new ones. She heard a noise and looked around the rental department that she'd just stepped into. Seeing nothing, she shook her head and walked back to lawn and garden.
Gillian worked steadily and was just putting the finishing touches on the solar patio lighting display when she flicked the skip button on her I-pod, her head lifting when she heard a noise like a slap before the next song started. She pulled her earphones away and stopped, listening for the noise again.
"'ello?" She called. Hearing nothing, she was about to put her music back on halfway through the first strains of Highway to Hell, when she heard the noise again. She turned and tried to find the source. Unable to find anything out of place, she shook her head and chuckled, placing her ear buds again. "I'm losin' me bloody mind."
"Bloody mind. Bloody mind." She missed the echoed words and the pit pat of swiftly moving feet followed by childlike giggles. Gillian had placed the empty boxes back on the pallet to be moved for recycling when the lights in the store came on and Nick came through the warehouse from the back entrance.
"Mornin' Nick." She said as her boss walked into lawn and garden.
"Wow, the section looks great." he said, stopping to admire her work with the spring merchandise.
"Yep. Even your li'l odd balls there." Gill said, nodding towards the little flower pots arranged on artificial turf with statues of rabbits and frogs around them.
"Thanks for workin' the shift, Gill." Nick said as the other workers began filtering in. He walked her to the break room. "I have another shipment coming in next week. It's welding and air tools. Think you can merchandize it?"
"Sure. As I've said, I really don' mind the shift. Gives me a bit of a chance t' goof."
"Yeah well, if you call goofin' off the kind of work you did out there, then I wish more of my employees would do it. I'll see ya at nine." Nick smiled at her and walked out to open the front entrance. Gill clocked out and went home.
The day passed quickly and Nick let the employees out and locked up, heading home. The quiet settled over the store until it was broken by scuffling sounds and childlike giggles. The fast slap of feet against tile rang out and the display of wind chimes clattered as the rack was shaken. Paint cans were knocked from their shelves, the wet contents oozing from the bent containers as raspy giggles joined the cacophony. The sound of running feet could be heard into the tool department where drill bits were taken from their cases and flung at the drywall, embedding deep into the white paint of the surface. The antiques were rattled until they fell from the walls, railroad lanterns shattering on impact. Children's toys were scattered all around the registers. The sun came up and the store fell silent again, childlike giggles fading slowly.
Nick unlocked the back entrance just before seven a.m. He walked through and turned on the lights, stopping dead at the mess that greeted him. He went to the office and ran quickly though the previous night's security footage, watching, mystified, as he saw the displays ransacked and merchandise destroyed, seeing no people doing the damage. He slowed down the footage and played it though again, missing a white blur moving quickly across the screen.
"What the hell?" Nick wondered, picking up the phone. After a quick phone call he noticed on the monitors that the employees were arriving for the day. He motioned to one of the younger women.
"Nick, what the hell happened?" She said, gesturing to the mess in her department.
"I'm not real sure Kay. I've got the police coming in and then we're gonna have to do a quick cleanup to get open. I have a couple calls to make, can you get the group goin' after the cops are through?"
"No prob, boss." She walked away to organize a cleanup team as the local police came through and gathered photos and what little evidence they thought they had. Nick went into the office, closing the door and trusting his employees to clean up and run his business. He made another call.
Dean picked up his phone on the start of the second ring, cringing when Sam twisted his head on the pillow and his brow furrowed in pain. He didn't recognize the number and opened the phone, planning on giving the caller a piece of his mind.
"Is this Dean?"
"Who is this?"
"Jerry Panowski told me to call you. Said you and your brother could help me."
"My name is Nick Landry. I own Landry Home and Garden in Kittanning, PA. Jerry is a good friend of mine. I remember when he was having trouble at his house. He told me what was happening and I thought he was losin' his mind. Well… now I'm not so sure."
"Look, I don't know what Jerry told you, but…"
"I came into my store this morning and found the place ransacked, stuff thrown everywhere. I called the cops and they said there's no sign of break in, no prints, nothing."
"It's probably neighborhood kids."
"I checked the cameras. There are no people, no kids. Then stuff just got tossed around. It's just…odd. Please, Jerry said you could help."
"It'll be a few days before we can get there. My brother is sick."
"Dean, what's goin'on?" Sam slurred, pushing himself weakly up on his elbows. Dean motioned him into silence.
"We'll be there in a couple days. Can ya give me the address?" Dean grabbed a piece of scratch paper that he'd been taking notes on and jotted down what he heard. He hung up after a couple more words.
"Is that what I think it is?" Sam said, trying and failing to sit up against the headboard. He coughed, a deep rumble that left him breathless.
"Sounds like a poltergeist from what the guy said. It can wait until you're on the mend."
"Let's jus' go. What if it hur's someone?"
"We're not huntin' while you can't even talk without sounding drunk."
"'mokay." Sam pushed up and planted his feet on the floor, upper body swaying dangerously. Dean jumped from the table as Sam started to pitch forward, his face paling.
"Sure ya are, Sasquatch." Dean tucked Sam back into bed and tipped the warm can of Seven Up to his mouth. Sam swallowed and allowed his eyes to drift closed.
The sun set as Gillian was getting off the bus in front of the store, Monday night. Nick met her to let her in, the other employees having just left. "'lo, Nick."
"Evenin' Gill. Thanks for comin' in. None of the others wanted to after the past couple nights."
"I'm goin' t' do the weldin' tonight. The officers said there's no sign of break in?"
"Well then, I'm not scared of a couple a' gremlins tossin' stuff about."
"Alright. I'll lock up and see ya in the morning. You need somethin' you call me."
"See ya then." Gill walked back, dropped off her jacket and clocked in. She placed her earphones once again and turned on the music, her head bobbing just slightly to Guns 'n Roses. She walked through the rental department and out to welding, looking over what she had to do. She heard the lock click after the lights dimmed and she smiled, thinking of her night alone and allowing the music to fade to the back of her mind as she thought of the story she was writing. The song changed and her head shot up as she heard a noise, something falling off a shelf towards the back of the store. She pulled her ear buds and draped the cord around her collar. Walking towards the back of the store, she looked around, seeing finally a box of loose screws scattered about on the floor. "How the bloody hell did that happen?" She knelt to pick up the screws and threw them by the handful back into the box. Placing it on the shelf she stood, spinning as she heard another noise. "Who's there?" she called.
She stuck her hand in her pocket and wrapped it reassuringly around the small pocket knife she carried, knowing she could use it if necessary. She walked into the rental department, her ears greeted by a hissing sound like air escaping. She breathed a sigh of annoyance tinged with relief and pulled her hand from her pocket. "Guess the guys forgot t'put the air compressor t'bed." Gillian went to unplug the device when she noticed the hose stretched out and disappearing into a darker area of the department. "Bloody hell." She muttered, closing in on the end of the hose.
"Bloody hell. Bloody hell." a gravelly voice echoed back to her from behind and she spun towards the sound, jumping at the voice coming from the darkness. A pffft sounded out, followed closely by the sound of breaking glass hitting the floor, before the sound rang through the warehouse area behind her and she was forcibly spun as something slammed into her shoulder blade, sending pain through her back and down her arm. Her I-pod flew from her fingers, the battery cover snapping off and sending the small cell rolling across the floor. Pffft pfft pfft pfft. Several more hissing sounds rang out and Gill screamed as the nails slammed into her chest, making her arch and sink to her knees as her legs seemed to disappear from beneath her. One last hiss sounded and another nail buried itself in her throat, the head of it looking like an ornament in the center of her round pendant necklace. Blood spurted from her throat and bubbled from her mouth as she slipped to the floor, her eyes closing. The blood slowly pooled around her throat spreading and forming a crimson halo around her short, red brown hair. The air nailer hit the shelf with a clatter. Child like giggles interspersed with the pit-pat of running feet over the tile floor disappeared into the darkness, reddish eyes reflecting the dim light from an exit sign.
Nick unlocked the back door and let himself in, flicking on the warehouse light. "I know that, Michelle. I need the delivery here as scheduled, even if the market dating allows me to take it later. That stuff is a guaranteed sale for the first few weeks of…" Nick rounded the corner of the warehouse, light from the front of the store dimly illuminating the rental department. He took another couple steps forward and his foot came down on something, upsetting his balance. He slid before regaining his footing, looking down to find a small battery under his toes. He bent and picked it up, lifting his head as he straightened. He saw a pool of liquid on the tile floor and stopped. "…spring. Michelle, I'm gonna have to call ya back."
"Sure." Nick flipped his phone closed and walked slowly around the rental desk.
"Oh god. Oh god, oh god." Nick cried, flipping the phone open and hammering in 9-1-1.