HAPPY BIRTHDAY MYSTERYMADCHEN!!!
I hope you all like this story, since I am writing it without my editor's help. (Sadly, she was too busy.) So, now you get to see what my writing is like BEFORE she gets a hold of it. ::grimace:: Yeah.
Anyway, sorry it's so short, but that way I can post faster. Enjoy.
Chapter 1 : False Start
"You sure this is the right address?"
Sam glanced up from his silent EMF reader to where his brother was scanning the other end of the hallway.
"This is where all the sightings were." Sam confirmed, but he was having doubts of his own.
For the last three weeks there had been dozens of reports of a pale man moving through this abandon house, chasing off the new owners and causing a few accidents, the last one putting a guy in the hospital. It seemed like a simple open and shut case of an angry spirit not wanting their house disturbed, but they couldn't have been more wrong. Not only was the house's history clean, but it was also lacking one important thing … an angry spirit.
"So," Dean shoved his EMF reader back into his pocket, "you hungry?"
Sam nodded, pocketing his own reader and following Dean out to the car. It didn't make any sense. Everything pointed to something being in the house. Flickering lights, strange noises, not to mention Jacob Marley playing catch with kitchen knives, but after spending hours searching the place from top to bottom there wasn't a single sign of a hunting. Something was wrong here, but he just couldn't put his finger on what. He started going through a mental checklist of everything he knew about the case. At least ten people had sworn they saw, felt, or heard something in that house. The EMF readers didn't detect anything, and there was no sign of sulfur. Mass hysteria was one thing, but something tossed Ronald Hanson ten feet through an second floor window.
Looking across the top of the Impala, Sam saw a concerned look in his brother's eyes, as Dean braced himself between the top of the car and the drivers side door.
"I said are you okay?"
"I'm fine, why?"
"Well ... it could be the fact you have been staring at the car for almost five minutes."
Muttering an apology, Sam climbed into his seat and lost himself in thought again. If it wasn't a spirit, a poltergeist, or a demon, what else could it be? A tulpa?
"... so then I thought we could go skinny dipping."
Sam blinked at his brother, suddenly registering what he was saying.
"Seriously," Dean shifted in his seat, "what's with you?"
"I'm just trying to figure this out."
"What's there to figure out?" Dean shrugged, starting the car. "It's probably just some local kids playing a prank."
"How many kids do you know that can throw a 200 pound man across a room, much less out a window?"
"Yeah, that is weird." Dean admitted, making his way through the Louisiana town.
"Something is in that house." Sam stated firmly.
"Yeah, but that something left behind no sulfur, no EMF, and no leads."
"Think it's another thought form?"
Dean shrugged, pulling into the diner parking lot.
"Whatever it is, it's not hurting anyone right now, so it can wait until after lunch."
While Dean ordered the food, Sam concentrated on his laptop, rereading the story on the re-modeler's flight to the ground. It gave them everything, all the signs of a classic angry spirit … it was almost like-
"Ow." Sam grunted, his hand moving to the back of his head, rubbing the small burning patch of skin.
"Oh! I'm so sorry." The red haired janitor apologized, moving his mop away from the hunter.
Sam grimaced seeing the chunk of his hair caught in the metal handle.
"It's fine," he muttered, ignoring the dull throb and turning back to the screen.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the man smile, but it quickly faded as Dean arrived with their food.
"You okay?" He asked, setting the tray between them.
"Fine." Sam sighed, pulling his plate closer.
"You sure? Because I heard you yell from the register."
"I didn't yell." Sam insisted, motioning to the janitor. "Will Hunting over there just needs to be more careful with the mop."
"Who?" Dean asked, glancing toward the janitor.
"Good Will Hunting … Will was a janitor …" Sam prompted, but saw no recognition in Dean's eyes. "Never mind. I'm been looking over this case and I think I see what's wrong with it."
"What?" Dean mumbled around a mouthful of hamburger.
Ignoring his brother's lack of manners, Sam brought up the article and turned the screen towards Dean.
"The case is perfect," he replied. "Too perfect."
Dean's expression darken as he clearly came to the same conclusion Sam had. The hunt was set up, a lure to bring them here … but why?
* * * * *
Damion watch the brothers climb into their black muscle car and speed away. He smiled at their feeble escape attempt, knowing it was already too late. Tossing the janitor's jumpsuit and aluminum mop into a nearby dumpster, Damion casually strolled to his car, smoothing back his fiery hair. He could let the hunters think they had a chance, it didn't matter. Sliding behind the wheel of his sleek blue '99 Camero, Damion opened his palm, admiring the small object that gave him so much power.
"You can run, hunters," he whispered to himself tucking the lock of brown hair safely in his pocket, "but you can never hide."
Well, that's part one. I am working on part two and will get it up as soon as I finish it. (It will be faster then usual since I am not sending it to anyone.)In the meantime, I would love to know what you think. (But please be kind, this is my first unedited chapter.)