Reversal of Fate 1

Jersey Shore, PA  

The door to the rundown house creaked open slowly. Dean peered around the edge of the door, gun at the ready. Once he decided the coast was clear he motioned for his brother to follow. Sam slipped in and glanced over to Dean, arching his eyebrows. "So, you're sure that this was the last house the vic was seen in?" he whispered.  

"Yeah, of course I am, Sammy!" Dean snapped. "I know how to do my damn job. Friends had him out here on a dare. House has been abandoned for about 15 years. Last owners moved out real fast when they lost their father. Craig here is lucky victim number three to disappear in the house this month."

"So, possible angry spirit?" Sam stepped over fallen chairs in the entryway. "Did their story make it sound like the father died ugly?"

"Not sure yet, couldn't get a clear story from the family. They didn't seem to take kindly to any questions about him, so there's a good chance something happened there that no one wants to remember." Dean lowered his gun down. "So maybe we'll find some new information here." He cocked an eyebrow at Sam. "You take the second floor, I'll take the first, meet back here in half an hour."

They split up. Sam went up the stairs as softly as possible, not wanting to alert anything to his presence. He headed for the master bedroom first, hoping that there would be something in there that would shed some light on the mystery they had found. He slowly pushed open the door, scanning the room for any danger before entering. When on a hunt, there was no such thing as too careful.

His spidey senses were on red alert. He kept seeing movement from the corner of his eyes, like there was something there, but when he looked in the direction it came from, there was nothing there. Sam could feel the hair on his arms stand on end. It felt like he was being watched.

There hadn't been much left in the house when the previous family moved out and the master bedroom was no exception. Inside the room, he found a decaying bedframe that no longer had a mattress, a desk crammed against the corner of the wall and a few faded pieces of paper strewn on the floor. The way they were spread on the floor looked like they had been shoved angrily from the desk and left there.

Boots thumping against the floor, Sam bent over and picked up a few of the papers, leafing through. They were... medical records? He flipped through quickly. Bills, hospital visits, doctors notes... it seemed like the family had spent most of their last year going from hospital to hospital. The last paper in the pile Sam had was a handwritten note to the mother in the family.

Mrs. Smith,

   We have exhausted our options for treatment for Bill. Please understand that no one wants to help your husband more than me, but there are times that we have to accept the inevitable. Your husband has been an inspiration to us all with his unwavering dedication and love for his family. Please, let us help you. Call me when you get this. We are here for you in this time of sorrow.

Doctor Robertson

"Huh," Sam muttered. Dying from cancer wasn't exactly vengeful spirit material. Something wasn't adding up about this whole situation... Seemed to him like the family took the father’s death badly. Probably moved out to get away from the reminders of him in every shadow. Standing back up, he tucked the doctor's note into one of the inside pockets of his jacket.

The next room seemed to be the family office. He found more bills spread out over a decaying desk left in the corner. The family had apparently jumped from hospital to hospital, based on the variety of paperwork. They had been in search of answers no one could give them. Always trying to find that pot of gold waiting for them at the end of the rainbow, for a hope that they had never found.

Going through the drawers, he also found a crumpled up death certificate, tear stains causing the ink to blot on some parts. He smoothed the wrinkles gently with his hand. It had the father listed as losing his long battle with cancer on February 13th, 1996. Looking over the other papers that were lying around, he decided that they must have moved out shortly after. None of the bills or receipts he had found so far had dates past March 1996.

So, thus far all they had was a death caused by natural causes in a house where three people had vanished inside of a month. It couldn't be a vengeful spirit causing the disappearances. He frowned thoughtfully at the room, eyebrows furrowed. "So why are people vanishing here?"

---

Coming back down the stairs after giving the top floor a good once over, Sam found his brother in the kitchen, bent over some scattered papers near the basement door. "Find anything good?"

Dean grunted up at him. "Just some medical paperwork, you?"

Sam stepped forward and handed him the letter and the death certificate he'd found. "Same. Looks like Dad here died from cancer." He nodded to the papers Dean was sitting near. "The latest date I found was in March of 96, so they definitely moved out 15 years ago."

"Huh," Dean took the papers, scanning through them quickly. "Something just isn't adding up here with these disappearances. Unless there's something we're missing, it can't be a vengeful spirit."

"Tell me about it." Sam crossed his arms, looking over the paperwork again. "Any ideas what else it could be?"

"Well, we haven't seen any dark doubles walking around, so chances are shapeshifter is out of the question. And no grave robberies, so ghouls most likely aren't in town." Dean rubbed his head, looking frustrated. "We need more information for this."

Sam nodded to the closed door behind Dean. "Been down to the basement yet?"

"Nope." Dean smacked his jeans and pushed himself up to a standing position. "Figured we'd take that tour together, Sammy."

Sam nudged open the door with his boot until it was wide enough for Dean to slip into. Dean pulled out his flashlight, shining it down the stairs in front of him. Sam followed Dean down the stairs slowly, at the ready for anything. He kept his hand on the silver knife he had with him as a precaution.

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs. He found a light switch and flicked it up. Nothing happened. "Super," he muttered to himself.

"The town probably cut the power to this place years ago, since there's no one here to pay the electric bills anymore." Sam said, meeting Dean at the bottom of the stairs. He put his blade back in his jacket when he didn't see any apparent threats. He might need both hands searching through the basement.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean muttered, shining the flashlight to the end of the basement. "Never hurts to give it the good ole' college try."

Boxes that were slowly deteriorating came into view when the beam of the flashlight passed over them. Half of the boxes had a long, thin chain casually draped across them. A thin layer of dust covered everything in the room, small spider webs wafting from the breeze that came in with Sam and Dean. The light played over a few dusty mirrors in the corner, reflecting back at the brothers, and illuminating a table propped against the opposite wall. Sam noticed a few dark holes in the wall next to a massive mirror leaning against the wall.

"Hey, can you shine the light over there?" Sam motioned towards the mirror. "Getting a weird vibe from those holes."

"Sure," Dean walked towards that side of the basement, keeping the flashlight trained on the wall. The darkness in the hole seemed even darker now, with the light illuminating everything around it, shadows lengthening ominously.

Sam examined the hole next to his brother. "Looks like it keeps going, kind of like a tunnel." He leaned down to peer into the hole briefly. For a second he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Once again, there was nothing there when he peered closer. "Did you see that?"

"What?" Dean pointed the light in the direction his brother indicated. It played over the boxes, making the shadows dance on the walls. "Nothing's there."

"I'm getting this weird feeling like we're being watched." Sam leaned over to the hole in the wall, reaching toward it. "I've been getting it the whole time in this house." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement behind the edge of the mirror. Something small ducked out of sight when his hand came close. "What the hell... "

Sam’s vision was overcome suddenly by a bright wave of light, and a commanding voice that sounded like it came from far off shouting "Horreat!" Darkness swiftly overcame the light and Sam felt himself collapsing onto the ground, consciousness fading rapidly as his brother crumpled next to him with a thud.