Chapter Text
The roar of the car echoed in the middle of the road, in the middle of nowhere, in a town they had never visited or even knew existed, Louisiana.
He had stopped looking around with curiosity a while ago, when he realized that the rest of the road would only offer him the same view; vast and empty like the desert, without the scorching sun, but with the same suffocating atmosphere.
He kept his right hand steering his car, with his left elbow resting on the window and his hand holding his head, trying to make Sam notice that he was pissed. His brother was too engrossed in his laptop, though. He had been on the same website for several days, reading and rereading information from a source of dubious origin that claimed paranormal activity on a farm in the middle of a swamp, and it was the reason for dozens of disappearances of tourists.
He rolled his eyes thinking about it. Who the hell would even think of going on vacation in that horrible place? Paranormal enthusiasts, surely.
Sam's clearing of the throat brought him back to reality. "The latest missing were three YouTubers, they made documentaries about places with paranormal activity around the country. They called themselves the 'Sewer Gators'," he reported, making sure to grimace as he read the name. "Peter Walken, Andre Stickland, and Clancy Jarvis. They posted on their website that they were going to the Dulvey Haunted House, and nothing more was heard from them."
Dean hums. "They looked for them in that house?"
Sam shakes his head. "The police didn't know where it was, and as for where we are going, they said nothing out of the ordinary was going on there, even though it was the Dulvey Haunted House."
Dean frowns. He doesn't understand the reason why they're heading there, but he understands that maybe Sammy just wants to be sure. He glances at his brother as he plays a video that has a filter to keep the atmosphere scary, surely made by the lost men.
He sighs and quickens the pace a little. Ten minutes ago they saw the last house on that road and he swore on his life that they wouldn't get in front of an authority there. The sooner they finished, the better. They'd already wasted a good part of the day just heading there, and he wasn't going to camp in the middle of a swamp.
"I think we're almost there," Sam said after a couple of minutes, watching the road curve into the right, in the middle of the woods, just like the townspeople they'd questioned before had informed them would happen if they wanted to go to the haunted house.
The drive through the woods was narrower because of the trees trying to hide the path and slower because of the uneven ground the car was on, and Dean was getting frustrated. If something happened to Baby...
He stopped the car completely. In front of them was another car already parked and it looked like the road had ended, anyway.
They both got out, Sam going to the trunk to grab some weapons. Dean was still in front, trying to shoo away the endless mosquitoes that wanted to feed on his blood. This was, perhaps, one of the worst jobs they'd ever done, and it hadn't even started yet.
Even though the sun was minutes away from setting, the heat felt like midday. He totally regretted not changing out of the pants and dress shirt they wore as an FBI uniform.
"Let's go," Sam informed as he returned to his side. He too seemed to be suffering from the humidity. He handed him his pistol, some cartridges with different labels for different types of monsters, and a flashlight. In a few minutes they would be plunged into darkness, especially thanks to the trees surrounding them.
They stopped for a moment to observe the other car, Dean whistling in appreciation of the beauty in front of him, it was empty and the doors and windows were locked. Could it belong to the owners of the place? It wouldn't be impossible, the police claimed that a family inhabited the large property, the Bakers, although the townspeople rumored that it was abandoned. It was all too strange.
Dean led the way, grumbling at the amount of mud now covering his shoes. Sam was quiet, but the older man knew he felt the same or worse inside than he did.
The trees seemed to part and they could finally see the large property the Dulvey residents were referring to. It was the largest house they had seen since arriving in town, surrounded by a plus six-foot metal fence. It looked too impressive to be hidden by the woods. Something like that definitely needed to be shown off to the public.
In front of the fence began a wooden path that led them directly to the gate. It was secured with a large chain. Dean motioned for Sam to go ahead and he did so immediately. He walked over to the doorbell of the house and pressed the button repeatedly, they waited a few minutes, but no one answered. That thing probably didn't even work.
The brothers retreated from the gate, looking for some way to enter the property.
"Maybe going around," Dean pointed to the left, where more of a path opened up for them.
They went that way and a few yards ahead they found another car, a white van and, unlike the small beige car, this one was open and pretty neglected inside and out. There were a couple of tripods and a couple of coolers left there as if nothing. They approached, curious. On the back seat was a book.
"Sewer Gators," Dean read out loud. It was property of the documentary guys, an old script, from episode 17, apparently.
"That's what they posted on their website," Sam informed him.
"So this is the Ghost House," Dean added. He gave the script a quick glance. "It's crap," he let his brother know as he read the stupid things the Sewer Gators were planning to do in that house.
When he got to the last page, he turned the script over and there was one more message: Join us.
They shared a look.
Dean left the shitty script in the backseat and closed the van door.
Sam began to lead the rest of the way. The metal fence continued, but near the van was a small, makeshift entrance forced through. It looked like a beast had forced its way through the slightly bent metal. Just off to the side was a sign written, oddly enough, in red. Accept her gift.
"Werewolf?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"Or a swamp monster," Dean added. "Either way, I don't think they're willing to take their time to write these welcomes."
Anyway, they entered through it, being careful of the loose spikes that had fallen from the entrance.
They entered into eternally muddy ground, and curiously darker the further they walked.
They could now visually confirm that they were in the middle of a swamp. Just to their left began the stagnant lake, no longer just small puddles of dirty water.
Their shoes made a wet sound with each step, which disgusted Dean a little.
Following the muddy path and away from the lake, twenty more steps forward and they both stopped in horror.
"Witch?" Sam asked again. This time, Dean just shrugged. He didn't want to guess what they might be up against.
It was what looked like a bull. Or several bulls. Someone had dismembered the poor animals and made a bizarre sculpture out of them. Fourteen legs forming an arch and a bull's head right in the middle, all held together by many meters of rope, and hanging from the trees, still dripping with fresh blood. Accompanying them were four saws also hanging, probably the ones they managed to dismember the animals with. In front of that thing, as if they had tried to hide it, were the rest of the animals being eaten by crows. It was the most disgusting thing they had seen in a long time.
Internally, Dean was getting worried. His instincts told him to go back to the car for a little more protection, but Sam's insistence on going inside stopped him. His brother looked just as disgusted by everything, but his eyes had that look of determination to find out once and for all what the hell was going on.
Sam was the first to go through. He carefully crouched down and went under the arch, using the ropes as a help, but his brother is so big that inevitably his whole huge body touched the shit that the sculpture was releasing. Dean felt sorry for him and the grimace that adorned his face the rest of the way.
Dean found it a little easier to get through, although he could hear his knees cracking the whole time he was crouched.
They had to continue on their way. Sam went, shaking his shirt, trying to get some of the liquids he had just touched off, but it had stained his clothes so much that they would be unrecoverable. Dean had felt some drops fall on him as well.
What he wanted most at that moment was to finish work and go shower at the motel.
The road had finally ended and they had arrived at what seemed to be a different house, smaller than the one they had first seen, but no less impressive, at least that was what they could see in the darkness. From the outside, it looked totally desolate. If it weren't for the bizarre sculpture still fresh and a small extinguished fire outside the house that was still giving off smoke, Dean would have thought that the property was completely abandoned, but that only told him that someone was still lurking around. Someone very out of their mind, that is.
To get to the house, they had to go down a slope of about five feet. Dean heard his knees pop again, and so did Sam, if the one-second glance he cast in his direction was anything to go by.
Sam walked over to the small fire. It had been made with the intention of burning various objects, for good. They could still see bits of clothing and shoes, and what caught their attention the most, a red bag that they immediately ransacked. They found nothing important inside, other than feminine items, but no identification, which was what they cared about finding. Even though it was all too strange, they still needed to confirm that the missing people were in that place. The burned objects could simply belong to the people who lived there, or at least that once did.
Without further ado, together they approached the entrance of the house, which was definitely abandoned. Dean could almost see a time when the house was full of life and housed a large family inside, there was even a bench you could swing on that he so wished he had as a child. He would have gone up there right then, if it weren't for the rotten wood and the fact that there was a case to be solved.
There was a light on above the door. It was locked. Sam sighed, turning to look at it.
"We could force our way in, or come back tomorrow and talk to the inhabitants like civilians," Sam gave him the choice, without taking his hand off the lock.
"If there are inhabitants," Dean corrected. "I mean, we already wasted a day just getting to the swamp," he let out a humorless laugh. "We can keep going around until we get to the big house, I don't think there's anyone here, anyway."
Sam was about to agree, when sounds inside the house made Dean swallow his words.
They stood in silence for a moment, trying to figure out if what they heard were normal sounds of an abandoned house and rotten wood falling off the walls, or if they were sounds made by something living.
A laugh. A scream. They acted immediately.
Sam began to pound on the door with his shoulder to make it fall, but, although the door seemed really weak, Sam's large size did not make it falter. The screams continued. Then, the sound of a chainsaw.
"Sammy," Dean warned. When Sam saw him pointing his gun at the door lock, he immediately stepped aside. One shot was enough to get it open.
They completely ignored what was inside the house and went by the sound of the chainsaw. They crossed a hallway, a kitchen, and then, there was the cause. A disheveled, thin woman holding a chainsaw in the air, in front of her a man lying on the floor moaning and surrounded by blood.
The woman turned around and, before she could act, Sam and Dean filled her body with bullets. They had to empty both chargers to finally make her fall dead to the floor, the chainsaw turned off beside her.
They waited a few seconds, just watching her bloodied and disfigured face slowly changing color, as if whatever was making her act was drained from her body once she was dead.
Well, piece of cake.
Sam was the first to go to the man. While they had unloaded their bullets into the brunette, the guy had let out terrified screams and had curled up against the wall, covering his head with both arms so as not to get a stray bullet in the blast. And oh, there was where the pool of blood was coming from. The left arm that should also be covering his head along with his right arm, was detached from his body and lying a few feet away from him. Dean grimaced in horror.
"Hey, hey, calm down," Sam whispered. The man let out a small, frightened cry when he felt Sam near him, who had crouched down to help him up, finishing ruining his suit with blood. The man was shaking like crazy. "We're here to help you, don't be afraid," Sam placed his hand on the thin shoulder in front of him as gently as he could.
The man finally uncovered his head and slowly looked at Sam, then at Dean when he noticed his presence. He was young, his blond hair combed to the side, his eyes big and green, he was smaller than them. Although well, anyone was small next to them, especially next to Sam.
He was a little wary, after the huge trauma he had just been through.
"What's your name?"
The man gulped. "Eth-," he cleared his throat when he only let out a groan. "Ethan Winters."
"Well, Ethan, we're Sam and Dean Winchester," Sam introduced them, pointing at each one. "We're going to get you out of here, okay?"
Ethan nodded slightly. Without asking, Sam helped him up from the ground. Ethan whimpered as he moved his arm. With his arm around Ethan's thin body, Sam tried to keep him still so as not to hurt him.
"Dean," Sam hissed, discreetly pointing his head at the member on the ground. Dean wanted to kill his brother immediately.
He went into one of the rooms, looking for a towel or something to cover the hand so he wouldn't have to carry it naked.
"-Mia, my wife," Ethan's soft voice came to him as he walked back into the hallway, explaining to Sam. He handed his brother a piece of cloth to tie Ethan's arm and stop the bleeding. He continued to listen as he bent down and grimaced at the hand on the floor, taking it with a sheet he found on a couch. "She was missing for three years and... I got an email from her in the early morning saying she was here. I came as soon as I read it. They had her locked in the basement," he pointed behind them, to a door at the end of the hallway that was open. "She was fine, maybe a little confused, she was saying very strange things, and then suddenly she attacked me. She... she's never acted like that before. I don't- I don't know what's going on..."
"Demon?" Dean asked Sam as soon as they met eyes. It was a logical answer. It was definitely a possession.
"What?" Ethan asked completely confused, he didn't know if he had heard right. The brothers turned to his pale face, full of tears. For a second they forgot he was there.
"We have to get out of here quickly, we have to get you to a hospital," Sam said, before Ethan asked again.
The three of them jumped over Mia's body, Ethan letting out a sob when he saw her once again. Sam was almost carrying him to get him out of that place.
Outside, the sun had completely set, giving way to the total darkness of the night. Inside, their flashlights weren't needed, as there were a few spotlights on that allowed them to guide themselves through the trash piled up inside the house. Now a little calmer, they could take a look around. Everything was shit, and there was a constant stench that only God knows where it came from. It was probably just the natural smell of the house. It was horrible.
Ethan continued telling his story, explaining a little more about what had happened. He said again that Mia was fine, and then suddenly no more, saying that she attacked him twice and the first time she used a knife. The poor guy was in shock.
They walked back the way they came. The kitchen, then the long hallway, to the door that led them outside, slowly so as not to hurt Ethan.
Dean was the first to arrive and realize that they were screwed.
"It won't open," he immediately informed his brother, interrupting Ethan's conversation.
"What?" Sam asked, frowning. They were equally confused, Dean had shot the lock out of the way, and they had both seen it.
Dean tried to pull the door again, but it seemed sealed in place. He then pushed it hard with his right shoulder, but there was something on the other side that prevented it from opening.
It was a fucking wooden door and they couldn't get it open.
"Step aside," Sam ordered, putting Ethan against the wall and trading places with Dean. They watched him fight the door and lose for a long minute.
"I got a call," Ethan suddenly spoke. Dean narrowed his eyes, the man was definitely delirious. "After she stabbed me, the phone in the hallway rang. The woman told me to get out through the attic."
The brothers paid him no attention. Sam pushed on the door two more times before Ethan spoke up again to get him to stop before he hurt himself.
"Guys, I'm serious. I know I sound crazy right now, but we need to try and go through the attic." Sam finally stopped and they both watched Ethan let out a sigh, then walk back down the hall. He stopped in front of the cupboard marked with a yellow X at the end of the hall.
"Ethan?" Dean called out, slowly approaching.
"I dropped a chain cutter next to Mia," he let them know, pointing in the direction where they were before. Dean quickly caught on and left Ethan leaning against the wall, holding his severed arm delicately, while Sam continued to try and open the door without success.
He quickly grabbed the chain cutter, it was near the woman's corpse. They would have to call the police later and come back for her, but for now the important thing was to get Ethan out of there before he bled out.
Was it Mia who committed the disappearances for the past three years? Although Ethan said he found her locked in the basement himself. If there's someone else in charge of this, where the hell are they?
Dean cut the chain on the cupboard himself. There must be something really important in there for it to be so protected.
"Bingo," Ethan muttered, holding the fuse close to Dean's sight, smiling like he'd found a great treasure. "Come," he said, heading back through the kitchen.
"Sammy," Dean muttered to get his brother's attention, and nodded to Ethan, though Sam was very preoccupied still slamming his shoulder into the door.
The three of them walked down the hall, following the young blond. "Wait here," he told them when they reached the stairs. "This will help us get to the attic."
The Winchesters watched Ethan disappear into the room where Dean found the sheets. Then he remembered, he saw a box of fuses on one of the walls, and one was missing, the one Ethan was carrying.
The blond returned to the hall. "You have to push the button," he informed them, pointing to the floor above.
Sam was the first to go up and do as Ethan said. Pushing the button set into a wooden column, they watched the attic stairs slowly descend. It would be torture to climb down from a third floor with a weak man without an arm on their back, but hey, they'd figure it out once they got there.
Sam was the first to go up, Dean putting Ethan between them for added protection. They had their guns in their hands, reloaded and ready to go, but they didn't find anything dangerous up there. In fact, it seemed like the safest space in the house.
They went down a narrow L-shaped hallway still in formation, and Sam opened the door they found at the end. Dean was about to mention that he was able to beat a door this time, but he chose to keep his comments to himself. He could make fun of Sammy once they got Ethan to safety.
In that attic space there was more trash, an unusable bed, boxes, and some mannequins. At the end of the room, there was a window with a ladder leaning against it.
"Let's go that way," Sam said. He directed Ethan toward the ladder so he could climb up.
It was a little difficult for him with one hand, but with the help of Dean and Sam holding his back, he was able to climb up the ladder.
As he watched the blond open the window and felt the strong breeze of the rain that had started at some point during their visit, he couldn't help but think about how horrible it was going to be to walk through a swamp in the middle of a storm. He just hoped that Baby wouldn't get stuck in all the mud that was undoubtedly forming.
He was so focused on his car and on not letting Ethan fall, that he absolutely didn't hear the footsteps behind him, nor a body going directly to them, which could have suddenly appeared like a ghost.
Unnoticed, he felt a strong hand on the right side of his head and, without having time to get away, the same hand pushed him in less than a second to his left, where he inevitably bumped into his brother's skull. Darkness immediately embraced him.
Ethan, hearing the loud thud behind him, quickly turned around, his face turning into one of horror as he saw the men, who were helping him, now unconscious on the ground.
"No-," he breathed out, looking at the tall old man behind Dean and Sam's bodies, eyeing him with a macabre smile on his features.
He turned around and tried to climb the last few steps to freedom, but the man, in one movement, grabbed him by his left foot and pulled him towards him to prevent him from fleeing. Ethan fell to the ground immediately, without one of his hands to defend himself, and the now destroyed ladder on top of him.
"Get away from me!" He warned, and heard the guy let out a mocking laugh.
In the blink of an eye, he grabbed him with one hand by the neck and lifted him up. Ethan felt his feet in the air and a cold sweat ran through his body as he realized the man's enormous strength, although it was obvious if he could knock out the human columns that were Sam and Dean with one blow.
"Welcome to the family, son," the man smiled. The next thing was a blur to him, but he knew it was his turn after the Winchesters.
The guy hit his face with his fist and Ethan fell to the ground with his face stabbing in pain. The last thing he saw was the man on top of him and the sole of his shoe dangerously close to his head before leaving this world for the first time.