DISCLAIMER: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. All other OCs belong to me.

1

Both boys traded doubtful look. Their dad's journal was lying as well as empty beer bottles in the table. They started arguing again.

"However, I think we should check it out," Sam demanded. "This haunted house was written on Dad's journal."

Dean scoffed. "I don't think it's necessary. There hasn't been any kidnap or death report since 57 years ago. The house is no longer haunted, and Dad didn't write too many details about the house. Besides, it has been stopping happening before Dad start hunting. Maybe it's just a note. It could have been a Glenn Close wanna be."

"Or a real witch, or might even a real demon maybe." Sam sighed as he turned his laptop to his brother so that Dean could see the reports on the webpage Sam had surfed before. "Check them out," Sam said as Dean scrolled the page down. "Those murders that happened earlier around the neighborhood were awful. The blood was drained out from their body…"

"Vampires?" Dean cuts as he skimmed through the screen. "Or crazy Pagan Gods?"

"Possibly not. Just continue reading, will ya? The victims were mutilated sadistically, their hearts were ripped out from their bodies, and so was the brain. The teeth were missing; some of the body parts were even boiled."

"Gross!" Dean pushed the laptop away, disgusted. "I think that's how those Glenn Close things got the inspiration."

Sam rolled his eye ball. "Look Dean, it looks like some unrevealed mystery, and I'm really curious with what has been killing every 13th full moon for almost a century—anyway tomorrow would be the 13th full moon phase. Oh, and also, some demonic omens were found around there the past few days. So, we're goin down?"

"Demonic omens? You should've mentioned that previously." Dean packed his things. "Yeah then, we'll hit the road again, Sammy!"

Grace was alone in her room, struggling with her school papers. Her brother, George, had just leaved the house in a roar of his motor cycle. She sighed. Ironically she had to stay with piles of books and papers that were waiting to be reviewed while his brother had his Saturday Night Party with his classmates. Such a pain being a bookworm, Grace thought.

She turned on her laptop, getting ready for her work. As she waited for the computer to load, she got herself to the kitchen for some task-accompany snacks. It didn't take a long time for her to get back to her room. But her room was nothing like she had left couple minutes ago. The windows were open widely, letting the cold night wind blew, messing her papers around the room. Grace frowned. She was sure she had locked the windows since the autumn started.

She shivered. Not sure why; a little afraid for the strange thing that just happened or because the cold wind. But she tried to ignore the goose bump and closed the window, making sure she locks them tight. There, across her house, under the street lamp, parked a classic black car. She slightly remembered the car, she was sure she'd been seeing that car before. But her memory tracing was distracted by the flickering lights of his table lamp. Grace sat in front of her table and tap the lamp several times; it usually works to make the lamp work steadily again. But then, the lamp just turned out dead. She inhaled deeply. Time for change the lightbulb, a voice in her head said.

To the storage room she went, trying to find the replacement for the dead lightbulb. She searched the whole room but the lightbulb were nowhere to be found. She remembered George replacing kitchen's lamp last few days. She was sure threre were packs of new lightbulbs. Grace concluded that it must have been her brother who kept the lightbulbs somewhere around the house.

Grace reached the phone to call George, asking whether he keep the rest of the lightbulb. Why would he kept the lightbulbs anyway, she talks to herself. She pressed her brother's phone number and waited for the dialing tone. Weird, she thought. There were no dialing tone; there were even no static on the phone. The line was down. No way her parents forget to pay the phone bill that the line being cut off. The company even had just sent two of their maintenance crew last morning, asking weird things that not related at all to the phone connenction. Screw the phone company, she cursed as she rushed to her room, getting her cellphone to call his brother. That way, she cursed again. She looked upon her cellphone screen and she found the 'no signal' sign on it.

Grace was about to given up with the table lamp when suddenly the lights were down; it was total black out on her house. It took a few second for her to adjust her sight. She relied only to a dim light from the street lamps. Great, she thought sarcastically, after the phone line, now the lights. What's next?

Next was a rattling sound from her roof, followed by the sound of the window that suddenly burst widely open. The cold wind blew from every direction. Now Grace wished she never asked what would happen next.

TBC