Sam shorts

Bearded Sam

"Thanks," you hang up the phone and toss it, "for nothing." You pace the tiny space and glance back at your notepad. Tapping your foot you turn slightly to the clippings and yarn lines on your wall. "So he disappeared July 29th," you slid behind your computer and typed furiously. Scanning the screen you look for any sign or clues of weather changes, strange surges in paranormal activity and reports around Columbia. You lean back in your chair, "shit."

Grabbing your jacket, "looks like I'm doing this the old fashioned way." Hitting the road it takes you a while to get there but you do after a couple pit stops for food and gas. Pulling up to the little shack of the last person who saw him and that wasn't cheap information, but you press on anyway. Knocking on the door and describing him to the old woman who answers it, she tells you what she told him. You take a sip of the over-sugared lemonade and thank her for her time.

Picking the lock at the room he rented you looked around to see if he left any of his clues. Looking under the bed and feeling the wallpaper for any recent disturbances. Cranking the hot water in the bathroom you check out the kitchen. The fridge had a couple beers and salad mix. You smile as you shut the door but let out a deep sigh. "Where are you?" Then you remember the bathroom and go check it out. Going up to the mirror, "bingo." There's a small anti-possession symbol drawn in the corner. Getting your phone you dial the one number who might shine some light on this clue. Turning off the water you watch as the symbol disappears. It rings a few times until he finally picks up. "Ghostbusters." You roll your eyes, "still not funny Dean." He makes a face, "what? I'm hilarious." "Whatever you say. Hey when you and Sam wanted to communicate did the tattoo mean anything?" Dean looks down at his chest, "other than being highly useful at warding off demons? Uh yea. Back in the day we used symbols to tell each other what we were hunting in case one of us went missing. So we knew what signs to look for." You make a kissing noise, "you're a genius!"

Hanging up you took a second look at everything. These demons were good at covering their tracks but you were better. You were trained by the best. One little clue caught your attention, "gotcha." Closing the computer you once again grab your jacket and make your way over to a field where a storm popped up. Searching the ground you see an area that a recent scuffle took place. Then you saw the drag marks. Following those to a little place in the adjacent woods you were pretty sure it was abandoned. The paint was chipping off the decaying wood and the boards complained wildly as you walked up the steps to the door.

It creaks open and you pull out your gun just in case. Realizing it won't do any damage it was there more for comfort and badassery. Smelling sulfur all around you knew you were in the right place. Going upstairs you went from door to door. With three up there it didn't take long to clear that level. Then searching the ground level and down stairs, nothing. You looked for more clues and sat down just to get your thoughts together. This was a perfect place for a demon to hide someone. So why wasn't he here? "Ahhh!" You yell and throw a chair across the room. It goes far because you are pissed, you shouldn't have left him. You should've stayed with him and that's why he was taken.

The sound the chair made when it hit the wall interested you. It didn't sound solid more hollow. Moving to it you run your hand along the wallpaper until you feel a subtle ridge. Pressing it and putting a little of your weight into it, it moves. "A hidden door," you mumble to yourself. Getting past that you walk down a couple cement steps to a heavy iron door. Flipping the switch next to the last step a light turns on over the door. It flickers but you take a breath and pull back on the handle. It groans as you pull it open but the room's dark. Seeing the beam of light shoot across the floor and half way up the cold-water stained concrete wall. Within that path there was something in it, an arm. You hear chains rattle then hair and lots of it. Your lip began to quiver from excitement and shock. "Doesn't look that bad does it?" You laugh and run to him. Getting a paper clip you release his wrists and they are red and chapped. A tear runs down your cheek as you look at his ragged face and very prominent beard. "Can you get up?" He chuckles slightly, "hell yea."

He's weak due to one meal a day so he slides up the wall then leans on you as you lead him out. "Here," you hand him your sunglasses just before you reach the door. He still puts his hand up to shade his eyes when you get outside. "My car is around back. I heard them pull it around as they drug me inside." You lean him against the house then go get his car. Sure enough it was behind a little woodpile and his phone and a few other things still inside. Picking the keys up from the console you start it up and drive around. Getting out and helping him in you get behind the wheel.

"Thank you," he puts his hand on yours. You look over at him, "you would have done the same for me." He nods, "I just want a shower and some scissors." Looking over at him, "well... can you keep the beard a little longer?" You bite your lower lip then start driving. He does that little deep laugh that drives you crazy, "for the rescue, wouldn't hurt to keep it a little longer."

THE END