The Family Business [Supernatural] {1}

2.3 Killing The Wendigo

The next morning, I sat under a tree, holding Dad's journal and playing with a lanyard attached to it. I was right about Roy; We didn't find his body but we knew he was dead. Although he was an asshole, he didn't deserve it. No one does. I looked up, seeing Dean, Haley and Ben were among the tents. Sam walked over to me and sat next to me.

"You okay?" He asked. I nodded slowly, not making eye contact. I sighed and spoke quietly, "What about you?" I asked. Sam smiled slightly, "I'm fine, don't worry," He said. "You're my big brother. Of course I'm worried about you, we take care of each other," I said. Sam smiled, "Yeah."

I smirked at him. "Wanna make a bet?" I asked. Sam looked at me and smirked back, "What bet?" I looked over at Dean and Haley and them back at Sam, "I bet that Haley will kiss Dean after we finish this job," I said. "I bet on the cheek," Sam said. "I bet on the lips," I said with a smile. Sam chuckled. "20 bucks?" He asked as he hold his hand to me. I smirked and shook his hand, "20 bucks."

We looked back at the others. "I don't . . . I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real," Haley said. "I wish I could tell you different," Dean said. Sam and I walked over to them. "How do we know it's not out there watching us?" Haley asked. "We don't, but we're safe for now," I reassured.

Haley stared at each of us, "How do you guys know about this stuff?" She asked. Me and my brothers looked at each other before looking back at her and I spoke, "Kind of runs in the family."

"So we've got half a chance in the daylight," Sam said. Haley and Ben stood up as Sam continued to talk, "And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know we in," Dean said, for the two of us.

Sam show the wendigo page of dad's journal to Haley and Ben. "'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'," Sam explained and Dean continued, "They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked as I picked a couple things up off the ground. "Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp," I explained. "Like the Donner Party," Ben spoke up.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality," Sam said. "If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry," Dean said. "So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley asked. Me and my brothers exchanged looks and Dean looked back at Haley, "You're not gonna like it."

"Tell me," Haley demanded. "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there," Dean said.

"And then how do we stop it?" Haley asked. "Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically . . ." I said as I hold up the can of lighter fluid, the beer bottle, and the white cloth I picked up, "We gotta torch the sucker."

...................

Dean lead the way through the woods, Haley, Ben, me and Sam followed. I had the Molotov cocktail, holding it tightly as we passed trees with claw marks and blood. But this wasn't normal. It wouldn't be found so easily. I stopped walking, "Guys," I called, making they all to come to a stop.