Chapter Twenty-Five: Folk Tales

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"McCall, Idaho. Well, more like Ponderosa State Park." Sam said as we all loaded into the Impala.

"Ooh, exciting!" Cassidy grinned, "What do we got?"

"Definitely a water spirit of some kind, but Bobby didn't have enough to give us a solid guess."

"What do we know so far?" I questioned, shutting my door, and buckling my seat belt.

"So far, we've had 3 drownings in the lake this month, it's not unusual now that the weather is warm, and summer is right around the bend for most people. But based on what Bobby was saying, these drownings aren't random. They are happening late at night, and in one section of the park. All about 2 weeks apart."

"So victim number 3 was just found?"

"No, he just went missing." Dean replied looking back at us through the rearview mirror.

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Cassidy and Dean had bickered about stopping in Salt Lake City again before heading into Idaho, but Dean won this time. So, as my younger sister laid sprawled out across the back seat, I typed quietly on my laptop, listening to "For What It's Worth"  playing softly through the worn out speakers. Dean and Sam had just traded off for driving again, with Dean back behind the wheel. He looked back at me through the mirror.

"How ya' feelin'?"

I shrugged in response.

"I'm as good as I can be, I guess. I mean, I'm freaked out by the whole idea that souls can be weaponized."

"That's what she is doing?"

"I think so, I mean the demon hinted at something along those lines, and Father Morastas said he had sold their souls to her." I shook my head, "What else could she be doing? Making more demons?" We made eye contact again.

"It would take too long. Souls are powerful. I wish I had more to tell ya kid, but that's one of those things that I only know so much about." I smiled softly at my dad.

"I know, and that's okay."

"Try to get some rest, we still have six hours to go," Dean instructed, adjusting the stereo volume. I closed the laptop and leaned my head against the window, "Love ya kid."

"Love you too, Dad."

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I almost spit out my coffee when Sam explained the history of the area. We were sitting in a diner booth in McCall, the resort town beside Payette Lake.

"A lake monster? Seriously?" I raised my eyebrow, "I thought you said, we were here to chase down a ghost that was drowning people?"

"Sharlie is just an urban legend."

"Sam, our whole life is hunting urban legends!" Cassidy jeered, laughing at his vague distress.

"Guys, I swear this is a real case."

"Sure Sam, next thing you know, the Ghostfacers are going to show up and start shooting their next 'webisode'-" I began, taking a bite of french toast, "Oh my god..." I choked. Sam and Dean whipped around to see Harry Spengler & Ed Zeddmore, the founders of Ghostfacers, step through the door, camera in hand.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said in surprise.

"This week on Ghostfacers, we are in McCall, Idaho, searching for the infamous-" Harry said, looking in to the camera with an intense, failed smoulder, "What are you assholes doing here!" His gaze had landed on us almost instantly.

"Young man this is family restaurant!" The older woman behind the counter gasped, putting her hands down on the counter.

"Sorry ma'am," Ed said, apologizing for Harry, who was making his way towards us.

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