Blood, Sweat, and Tears ch. 2

It had been a week since Dean’s ‘miraculous’ healing and his encounter with the Reaper. They had been driving for three days straight, Dean driving most of the way. Sam was driving now though, as Dean nearly ran off the road. Sam looked over at his brother, who was staring out the window. “You wanna talk about it,” Sam asked as they headed through Pennsylvania. Dean looked over at him with a questioning look.

“Talk about what?” Sam knew what he was doing; he was avoiding the subject. What the subject was, Sam had no idea. It was either Layla, the fact that Dean almost died, the fact that someone else died because of Dean, or a combination of all three. Dean looked up and saw a sign for a small town as they passed by. “You wanna stop for a while,” he asked Sam. Sam looked over at him and nodded. “There,” he said pointing to an exit. They passed a sign that read: “Saratoga Pop. 265”. “Little town,” he said with a laugh.

They pulled up to a small diner. After finding a seat inside, they looked at the menus they were given. It was early in the morning. A young waitress, about Sam's age walked up to them. Dean flashed his usual charming smile and Sam rolled his eyes. They got some coffee and something to eat. On the middle of the table, there was a newspaper. It was the headline on the front page that caught Dean's attention. He picked it up. It read:

Massacre at Saratoga Memorial Cemetery

Tuesday morning investigators found the bodies of three high school students in the Saratoga Memorial Cemetery. The students had been missing for a week when the bodies were finally found. According to friends a group of four of them were planning to investigate the local legends behind the Wilkes Mausoleum in the cemetery. After going to a basketball game the students never returned home. The victims were identified as, Alec Brown, Logan Walker, and Sarah Matthews. The body of Sarah’s twin brother Ben has yet to be found.

“When will these kids learn not to go into places that are supposed to be haunted,” Dean said with a sigh. He looked around and noticed people were looking at them. He smiled and nodded at the people around them. “So what d’ya say? Should we stick around and check it out? It does seem to be our kinda thing?”

Sam sighed and looked at the paper. “I guess so,” he said quietly. “After we get some sleep.”




“Miss Grey,” a man’s voice on the phone asked. “We were finally able to find your step-father’s will. We would like you to come to have a look at it.”

“What,” she said utterly amazed, her Irish accent ringing in the silent air. “Of course,” she answered softly. With that the young woman was on a plane from Dublin to London. She arrived and found lawyers surrounding her. Emma Grey was a young woman of twenty-five years of age. She was born in London but raised by a wealthy lawyer in Dublin. Her family heritage, on her mother’s side, was full of mystery and ghost stories. Emma is now a student at Trinity College in Dublin, studying history and mythology.

“Now, Miss Grey as we understand it, your step-father left you a manor in Pennsylvania. Apparently, it had belonged to your mother and when she died she gave it to Mr. Grey.” She nodded, not sure what the point was. “We are willing to arrange transportation if you want to the estate.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll… I’ll go myself.” After a few more legal arrangements, she returned to her hotel room. She remembered her mother telling her stories of the house. It had been in her family for generations. She used to tell Emma ghosts stories about. They always excited the young imaginative girl. Emma flew back to her home in Dublin and packed up her belongings. She withdrew from her classes, telling her professors about the estate in Pennsylvania.

She arranged to fly there and move in by herself. She was always an independent girl. Before leaving though, she did some research on the house and her family. Excitement filled her as she found out more. She decided it wouldn’t be a great idea to tell the citizens who she was since they used to think her family was cursed. She was just a visitor to them.

She arrived and saw the place. It wasn’t in the best shape it could have been in but she was surprised since it hadn’t been inhabited in almost a century. She moved some of her things in. She looked around the house. In the basement, she found bloodstains on the cement walls. She ran her fingers over them with a small smile, it was just as her mother had told her, and her grandmother had said. She found a box in the basement with news clippings and writings on her family. It went back to the fourteenth century in Ireland.

The nights there were restless. She constantly thought she was hearing footsteps. She could hear a faint whisper in her sleep. When she would open her eyes there would be nothing there. She didn’t scare easily though. All these events made her want to stay longer. That all changed one night about a week or so after she arrived. She was thrown from her sleep when she swore she heard screaming coming from the cemetery bordering her house. She walked to the window but saw nothing.

The next night though she looked out the window and saw a young man standing outside her home. When she went downstairs and went outside the man was gone. She saw the same man the night after that. She opened her window this time and called out to him but he didn’t answer. She thought maybe he was a ghost but that made little sense because of his dress. If he was the ghost of someone who lived in the house his clothes would be old.

The clothes this young man wore were new, a simple blue t-shirt, a leather jacket, white tennis shoes and blue jeans. She saw him every night for a week. She began to wait up for him, she would look out her window at 1 o’clock in the morning every night, and there he was. One night though she looked and he wasn’t there. When she turned, she was amazed to see the young man standing behind her. Her heart skipped a beat and she took a step back.

“Who… who are you,” she asked softly. The young man was pale and seemed to glow when the moonlight hit him. He was tall, taller than she was anyway, with penetrating eye. He didn’t speak. There was something about him that captured the young woman. He took a step closer to her and she backed against the wall.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. His voice was melodic and soothing. He took a step forward as did she. Her heart was racing though she didn’t know why. Emma thought she heard something outside and she turned to look out the window. She saw nothing, when she turned around she found the man was gone. She took a few steps forward and looked around. “Emma,” a faint whisper came from behind her. A chill shot down her spine and she felt icy cold hands wrap around her. “Come with me Emma,” he whispered in her ear. He ran the tips of his fingers of her neck sending more chills through her. After that though he disappeared and she didn’t see him again.

A week and a half after she first saw him she looked out the window and saw nothing. She took a step back and looked rather disappointed.

She stopped dead though when she heard footsteps in the house. She walked downstairs and looked around. When she entered the ballroom she saw a man there, a different man. He was tall, he looked to be around her age though his back was to her so she couldn’t tell. He was wearing boots, faded blue jeans, and a leather coat. In his right hand was a shotgun. She took a step forward and the floor creaked. The man stood straight and turned around, aiming the shotgun at her. “Who the hell are you,” he said quickly.

Emma turned when she heard footsteps behind her. She saw another man, younger than the first but taller. He had longer hair as well. “I could ask both of you the same question,” she said quickly. “You can put that down in my house,” she snapped. The man looked at her shocked and reluctantly lowered the gun. “I’m Emma Grey,” she answered simply. Then she turned to the first man. “You’re turn.”

“Dean Winchester, that’s my little brother Sam,” he answered pointing to the taller of the two. “You’re house?”

“Yes, mine, as in I own it. As in you’re trespassing and I could have you arrested.”

“We were told that this place was abandoned, that no one had lived her for a century.”

“True,” she said simply. “My family moved to Ireland long ago, I inherited the house when my step-father died last month.” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. What the hell are you doing in my house,” she snapped.

Dean obviously looked a little taken aback. “We’re…,” he paused trying to think of something. They didn’t come up with a cover story since they thought no one lived there. “We’re…..” He looked to Sam for help.

“We heard stories about the house all our lives,” Sam said quickly. “We just wanted to check it out.”

“Oh,” she said simply. “Well, you’ve checked it out, now you can leave. Good-bye.”

Dean stepped forward. “Actually we’re heard stories of vampires,” he said simply. “We wanted to see if there was any evidence here.” Dean had noticed all the papers spread around the room. He could tell she was into that type of thing. “Maybe you can help us out. See, there were these murders in the cemetery over there about a week ago. Rumor has it that vampires did it.”

“Do you believe these rumors,” she asked with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he said smirking. “We already checked out the place. Have you seen the paintings inside? Gaelic markings, they’re repeated like a chant or something.” He paused noticing her accent. “You’re from Ireland,” he said with a smile. “How ironic.”

“Is there a point to this,” she asked impatiently. Sam looked completely clueless.

“Do you happen to know Gaelic?”

She paused, wondering how he knew that. Then she looked down and saw the papers she had been writing. She smiled at him and nodded. “Come on in,” she said with a smile. “You want something to drink, either of you?”

“No, I’m good,” Sam said with a smile. He walked into the room and sat down on a large chair.

“What about you,” she asked. Dean shook his head. “All right then,” she said simply. She went into the kitchen and got a beer. Over the month she had been there she had gotten electricity and internet access set up in the house. She walked back into the room and sat down across from Dean. Dean looked a little upset that she had the beer. “I asked,” she said simply. She paused and looked at him. “So what is it you want to know,” she said with a smile. “I don’t know much myself. I just got here and found a lot of this stuff.”

Dean sighed and looked over at his brother. Sam handed her a folder full of pictures from the mausoleum. “Do you think you can tell us what it says,” he asked with a sweet smile.

She looked down at the pictures and took out some of her notes from school. “Ummm…,” she paused and tried to match it up. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s the same three words over again: fear, fire, blood,” she said softly. “Fear, fire, blood.”