ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ||ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴀʀʏ (ᴘᴛ 2 )

Y/N and Dean are at a computer while Sam is browsing some postings on a bulletin board.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asks.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point, any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me," Y/N replies.

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."

"I'm telling you there's nothing local; I've checked. So, unless you've got a better idea, "

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern," Sam observes.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing."

"With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run."

"Both had secrets where people died," Dean adds.

"Right. I mean, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them," Y/N says.

"So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean, like a nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it and punishes you for it," Dean suggests.

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

"Take a look at this," Sam says, showing a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. Dean prints out another picture and hands it to Sam. The picture is of a handprint and the letters 'Tre'.

"It looks like the same handprint."

"Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana," Y/N says.

==

"I was on the job for 35 years-detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me."

"What exactly happened?"

"You three said you were reporters."

"We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, and dreamt of getting out of Indiana, and being an actress. And we know that the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cutting out her eyes with a knife," Y/N says.

"That's right."

"See, sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened," the detective clarifies, pulling out some files.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to have a copy of this," he says, opening a file to the picture Sam, Dean, and Y/N found on the computer. "Now see that there? T-R-E."

"Yeah."

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."

"You know who it was?"

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon named Trevor Sampson," the detective explains, showing a picture of the man. "And I think he cut her up good."

"Now, why would he do something like that?" Y/N asks.

"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, "T". Well, in her last entry, she was going to tell "T"'s wife about their affair."

"Yeah, but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?"

"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional."

"But you could prove it?" Dean asks.

"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive?" Dean asks.