Ghosts and Ghouls (Sam Winchester x Male Reader)

Chapter Two

"Hey." Sam spoke above the drunken hustle and bustle of the crowded bar. It became evident as he neared the taller man that he had been drinking by his pupils and how excessively he was sweating. Whenever he was drunk, he had the remarkable ability of not slurring his words. (Y/n) smiled at Sam before motioning to the bar tender for another drink. It was in this moment that he glanced over Sam's shoulder and saw Dean in deep conversation with a dark haired man and a younger looking man staring at them both. He nodded his head in their general direction and asked,

"Who're they?" The bartender slid a bottle of beer across the bar.

"The dark haired one is Castiel. He's an angel and the other one is Jack. It's a long story." (Y/n) shrugged his shoulders clearly not that bothered by Sam's lack of explanation.

"So long as they're good at hunting and won't end up hunting me I don't care. Although with this job even if they wanted to kill me, I'd still take their help. It's a mess." (Y/n) stared briefly into the distance as he thought back to the past few days.

Like Sam and Dean, he regularly read the news to find jobs. This job was in the Wichita local paper but it was plainly obvious that something wasn't right. At first he thought it was demons. Disappearances. Murders. Or so it would seem. There had been a witness to one of the murders. They had described a cloaked figure appear out of the shadows and broke the man's neck in an outright gruesome way. Once (y/n) had arrived, the witness had already checked himself into the local hospital after suffering a mental breakdown. The next lead was the building that the attack happened near. A church. An old looking church but after conducting research it was only 40 years old. Nevertheless, once he went there to have a look around, something almost instantly felt off about the place.

Luckily for him, the local priest was inside cleaning away the items he had been using the mass.

"Hello Father, do you have a minute? I'm a news reporting. I just wanted to ask a few questions about the murder that happened here last week." The priest visibly whitened and refused to answer any questions about what had happened.

"Is there anything you can tell me about the church." He was more willing to answer these questions.

"It has a dark history. The original building dated back to 1645 but it was burnt down by a group of women supposedly around 1706. It was rebuilt the same year and has been refurbished every so often before it was demolished and rebuilt about 49 years ago."

"Why did they burn it down?" The priest sighed and sat down on the nearby pew.

"The community at the time when the church was built persecuted women. Poor souls. They weren't always burnt either. There's an old well nearby and most of the time they were thrown down there. Left to die. A record that was found in the vault below this building talked about how they howled in anguish for days before the well went silent again." He looked away as he finished speaking.

"These murders. This isn't the first time it's happened is it?" Without looking back, the priest responded in a low, almost fearful voice,

"No. There are other records, records from the rebuilds that speak of hooded figures appearing out of the darkness and taking men. They're rarely ever found. The man who died last week was found down the old well. Someone had ripped the wooden cover off and dropped him down there." It was around this point that the priest ushered him out and refused to speak to him anymore.

As with any good hunter, (y/n) went back to the motel and waited for nightfall before returning to the graveyard. It was eerily silent. Every twig snapping under his boots echoed in the vast darkness. His nervous heartbeat filled his ears, his breaths became shallow. He had been a hunter for five years, fought all manner of creatures, and yet, ghosts still filled his body with fear.

A branch snapped ahead, dragging (y/n) out of his thoughts and his feet stopped on their own accord. It wasn't long before he spotted a pair of flashlights and the two teenage boys holding them. They turned to him startled and bathed him in light. He quickly pulled a hand up to shield his eyes.

"Who are you?" They exclaimed.

"Can you lower the flashlight?" They both lowered their flashlights and that's when he saw it.

Blood curdled screams filled the night.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"I've seen some shit these past few years Sam. Ghouls, demons, stuff I can't even remember the name of, but that ghost was fucking scary. I'm a grown ass man and I was scared. It was a woman I think. At least from how they were dressed I could tell it was a woman. Hooded cloak but it was the face. Talk about looking fucked up. No eyes, just blackness. I was stood maybe eight or nine foot away and I felt like I was being sucked in by them. Half the face was gone too. Think zombie but worse. Everything went cold too which is why I think it's more than one. I mean the priest said multiple women were killed during the witch trials." He grimaced as he finished filling Sam in. The Winchester had grown up fighting monsters so very little fazed him but seeing another hunter pull a face when talking about a hunt made him feel uneasy.

"You know Dean, he'll want to research and then go again tomorrow night." (Y/n) nodded in agreement.

"Do you guys have a room at the motel?" (Y/n) asked whilst taking a sizeable gulp from his beer. The way his Adam's apple moved as he drank was sinful.

"One room, two doubles." (Y/n) rolled his eyes before responding,

"God Dean's being tight. I've a room, stay with me for the night." He watched Sam carefully before giving in and smirking as he took another drink. Sam shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He looked over his shoulder and saw the Dean and Castiel were still talking.

"Alright."

(Y/n) smirk became a full grin. Sam was still looking at his brother and didn't see the lustful smile on his friends face.