UNDER THE WEATHER
Eventually, the coffin was exposed to a scattering of salt and a kiss from Dean's trusty Bic.
Panting with exertion and leaning heavily against each other, the brothers stood silently beside the grave; calloused hands kneading aching muscles as tendrils of steam drifted lazily upwards from their overworked bodies. They blinked stray raindrops from drooping lashes as they watched gasoline-fuelled flames dancing through the downpour, defying the storm.
A sudden thunderclap sounded the death knell for the poltergeist of 380 Acacia Avenue.
Unassaulted, a family would sleep soundly tonight.
Exhausted, soaked, aching and chilled to the bone; so would the Winchesters.