Fractured

Bloody Mary

It's been about a month since our last hunt, and thank god for it because it was one hell of a stressful hunt. I now have added flying to my list of things I fear. Which I've noticed has been getting longer and longer recently. The only bad thing about not having something to hunt for this long, though, is life gets boring, like really boring. Like last week I was so bored, I counted all of the tiles on our motel room walls. I also had time to read some books, which is good because I never had a chance to go to college. Fortunately for us, we found something that caught our attention, and that is why we are headed to Toledo, Ohio.

I was sitting in the back seat of the Impala, as per usual, and I noticed Sam start to fidget in his sleep as Dean parked the car. His squirming got worse as he started to mumble the word no over and over again.

Dean grabbed his arm and said, "Hey! Sam, hey," loudly in an attempt to wake up his brother.

I feel bad for Sammy, and he's been having nightmares for the past two months, ever since Jessica died. I told him he could talk to me about it, but he seems to be struggling with that.

Dean hit him in the arm again, and Sam woke up asking, "Was I having a nightmare?"

"Yeah, are you okay Sam," I asked softly.

Sam turned around and smiled, "Yeah, at least I finally got some sleep."

I frowned at him, not pleased with his response. He quickly cleared his throat, and turned toward Dean, as Dean said, "You know sooner or later you're gonna have to talk about this."

Completely ignoring our concerns for him, Sam asked, "Are we here?"

I rolled my eyes and let out a heavy sigh as Dean responded to Sam, "Yeah, we are in Toledo, Ohio."

Sam grabbed the newspaper we found the dead man we were here to look into and asked out loud, "So, what do you think happened to this guy?"

"I guess we are gonna find out," I replied as Dean threw his books we did some research in, into the back seat with me.

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We made our way into the morgue and walked up to the guy at the desk.

"Hey," Dean said nicely. Weird.

The man looked up from the paper he was reading and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we are the med students," Dean said, coming up with a lie.

"I'm sorry," the man asked, looking confused.

"Oh, the doctor didn't tell you. We talked to him over the phone. We are from Ohio State, and he is supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse," Dean explains flawlessly.

"Well, I'm sorry he is at lunch right now," The man told us.

"Oh well, he said that uh, well, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?" Dean asked, again nicely.

The man gave us a weird look and said, "Sorry, I can't. The doc will be back in an hour if you don't mind waiting,"

I was standing behind the boys, hidden, so I took this opportunity to perk up my boobs in my bra and floof up my hair a little. Yeah, not my proudest moment, but we kind of need to see this body now.

I walked between the boys and said in a sweet voice, "Oh, that just won't do," I leaned onto the desk leaning over a bit to show off my cleavage, "See. Unfortunately, we have to be back by then, so can you do me a favor, and please let us see the corpse. It would really make me happy if you did." The man seemed a little shocked at first, not taking his eyes off my goods. He finally brought his eyes to my face, only to be met by an innocent smile.

He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before saying, "Um, I-I'm sorry, but I can't."

A smirk took over the innocent smile as I leaned in a little closer and asked, "And why is that?"

He swallowed and said, "Look, um, I can't let you. It's against the rules here, and the Doc has to be here to supervise."

I lifted an eyebrow and deepened my smirk, "Hmm, what does a girl gotta do to get a passing grade," I bit my bottom lip and walked around the desk and behind him. I put my arms on his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "How about this. If you help my friends and me out here, I can help you out."

The man gulped and finally said, "Follow me."

He got up to show the way, and we started to move. Dean grabbed my arm though to stop me, "What the hell was that?"

"What! We need to see that body, and he wasn't budging. I'm not happy that I had to do that," I defended myself.

Dean looked angry, his face was flushed and his grip on my arm tightest a bit, "Never do that again."

He let go of my arm and followed where the other two went, me closely behind. He didn't have to be a dick about the situation. I mean, he flirts with girls all the time. Why can't I have some fun? But then I think about what Sam told me on the plane. Damnit!

When we got back there, the man showed us the body. Mr. Shoemakers was missing his eyes, and the man told us that they melted, that they were liquified. What can the hell kind of creature do that? For once, I didn't have a list of possible creatures, and I was stumped. I have never seen anything like this before.

"Do you think you could show us the police report, you know, for our paper?" Dean asked the man.

"I don't think I'm allowed to show you that," He stated.

I cleared my throat, but Sam brought out his wallet and gave him a hundred dollars, which he gladly took, earning us one police report.

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We decided our next task in this investigation is to go talk to the family, specifically the daughter—I kind of hate this part. I mean, we are just barging into a family's house, who just so happen to be having a funeral. I don't know about the guys, but I would hate that.

We made our way around the house looking for the daughter, and after we had no luck, I opted to ask someone to show us where she was. We made our way to the backyard, and the kind older man pointed out a group of young girls to us.

"Thank you so much," I said to the man and then made my way to the group with Sam and Dean at my sides.

"You must be Donna?" Dean asked once we reached the group.

A girl with short brown hair answered, "Yeah" Well, this is awkward.

"Uh, hi. We are really sorry for your loss. I'm Sam, and this is Dean and Devyn. We worked with your dad," Sam introduced us.

Donna shared a suspicious look with the blonde girl next to her, "You did?"

We continued the conversation by asking what his symptoms were, and the blonde girl got really defensive. Donna didn't seem to know anything, but her younger sister definitely did. Apparently, she did the Bloody Mary ritual the night their dad died. It makes no sense, though. If she was the one to say it and her dad didn't, why were his eyes scratched out and not hers?

1/30/2021- Edited