Bonds Tested

Malleus Maleficarum -- Witches

~*****~

"She was so scared...." Mr. Dutton says softly. "I couldn't help. I couldn't do anything to stop it... A-And, I've talked to the police. And I've talked to the medical examiner, and no one can explain it."

"Well, that's why they put the call into us, Mr. Dutton." Dean explains.

"But the CDC-- that's disease control, right?" Mr. Dutton asks. "What do you think it's some kind of--" Mr. Dutton is muffled a little as I close the door to the bathroom to keep searching for anything.

I kneel down to the sink and peer inwards as Sam rummages around the other shelves. "Hey," I hum softly as I reach in. Sam drops down besides me and gazes down at the hex bag in my hand. "Witches." I hum before standing up. I grasp onto the sink counter as a wave of dizziness hits me.

"You all right?" Sam asks.

"Yeah," I nod quickly. "Sorry, I just didn't sleep well last night." I explain meekly. Sam nods and opens the door to the bathroom.

"Mr. Dutton?" Dean asks as the man stares off into space.

"Uh, everyone loved Janet." Mr. Dutton states.

Dean glanced over at us, and I nodded my head to the door. "Okay, thank you very much. I think we got everything we need. We'll be out of your way now." We exit the house with a collective sigh. "That guy seem a little evasive to you?"

"I don't know," I hum. "I was under a sink... pulling this out." I state as I hold up the hex bag. "Hex bag."

Dean groaned. "Oh, gross."

"Yep. Bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth was probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned." I explain.

"So, we're thinking witch?" Dean asked as he handed the bag back over.

"Uh, yeah. And not some new-age Wiccan Water Douser, either." I say. "This is old-world black magic, Dean. I mean, warts and all."

We climb into the car and sigh. "I hate witches." Dean says to me. "Always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere"

"Pretty much," I laugh.

"It's creepy! It's downright unsanitary!"

"Yeah, well, someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton." Sam stated.

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag." Dean hums. "So, what are we thinking? Looking for some craggy old Blair Bitch in the woods?"

"No, it could be anyone. A neighbor, coworker, man, woman. That's the problem, I mean, they're human. They're like everyone else." Sam explains.

"Great, how are we gonna find them?" Dean asks.

"This wasn't random, Dean," I say. "Someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly ax to grind. We find the motive--"

"We find the murderer." Dean finishes. I nod with a hum.

~*****~

"You sure you'll be all right, baby?" Dean asks before he and Sam leave.

"Yes, Dean. I'm just exhausted. I'm gonna do some research here, okay?" Sam gives me a pointed look from behind Dean. "Go. Go find that guy before the witch gets him, too."

Dean nods and kisses me softly. I lock the door firmly behind them and sigh heavily. Tromping to the bathroom, I gaze at the mirror a little too long before tugging my shirt up a little. I grimace at the swell beginning to form. My body jolted upwards as the door rattles with knocking.