Let It Bleed: Part Two

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Your dad did find someone that's obsessed with Lovecraft enough to give you substantial information regarding him and Purgatory, so that's where you two decided to head to first. There is still no baby, but you believe that she is going to come early. The only reason why you didn't say anything about this to Dean is that he clearly chose who his first priority is. You'd rather focus on the case right now instead of having your child. Your water didn't break yet, so you're in the clear.

The Lovecraft fan is named Judah, and he has everything you need to know in his basement. Not weirdly enough, he lives with his mother. No judgment, but it's all stereotypes at this point. Judah has pictures, articles, excerpts from books, journal entries, and everything else in between about Lovecraft. You two are posing as journalists to do a piece on Lovecraft which is why this guy is so eager to tell you this information. You look at your dad knowingly when you enter the basement.

"You know, uh, horror–lowbrow. It put us in the ghetto, fine, but H.P. Lovecraft is literature. I mean he should be taught in schools. He's up there with Dickens and Dean R. Koontz... seriously," Judah gushes.

"Well that's, that's definitely the angle I'm taking with our piece," your dad chuckles.

"Oh, okay. Okay. Sorry, you–please," he gestures for you two to sit.

You're already way ahead of him as you sat before he told you that you could.

"So, I hear you have a large collection of Lovecraft's private letters," you start.

"Yeah, the world's largest!"

"Wow, you must be catnip to the ladies," your dad jokes.

"I'm in a long-term online relationship, so–"

"We'd like to ask you about Lovecraft's last years," you cut him off so you can get to the point. "Specifically, anything that might've gone down around March 10th, 1937."

"Are...? Okay. Are you working on this with the other guy?" he asks, confused.

"What other guy?" you ask.

"Yeah, uh, you know, trench coat, looks like Columbo, and talks like Rain Man?"

Of fucking course Castiel would be here before you are. You're getting sick and tired of this angel getting in your business. You were completely serious about him leaving you the hell alone, and if you ever run into him again, you're going to beat his ass for what he did.

"Right. We're... competitors. Rival magazines," your dad saves your ass.

"Oh, okay," Judah laughs. "Okay, well um, I'll tell you what I told him. Howard had a dinner party on March 10th."

"Party? How many friends at this party?"

"Well, six. If by 'friends' you mean co-worshippers in a black magic cult. They were getting together that night to perform a ritual. Something big."

"Define big," you say.

"Not much. Just open a door into another dimension," he shrugs.

"Why would they do that?"

"To see what's out there, you know. Maybe it's friendly."

"It's never friendly," you smile sickly sweetly.

Judah gives you a look, but your dad moves things along.

"She means, she imagines. So, did it work? The spell?"

"Well, uh, there was no mention of Cthulhu in the morning papers, so... actually, I do happen to have several letters detailing the dinner," Judah says and gets up to head over to his bookshelf where he rifles through some folders. "The worst thing that was reported was a hangover, so it's actually pretty interesting." He opens a file, but it's empty. He frowns and looks once again, but they are gone, and you know exactly who took it. "They were... I'm sorry, they were right–they were right here."

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