Fractured

It's Not Real?

I walked into the main room as Dean exclaimed, "This whole damn job is bugging me. I thought that the legend says this guy only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam responded, distracted by his computer.

Dean glanced at me, watching me sit back down next to him on the bed. I laid back resting my head in his lap as he said, "I mean that explains why he went after you, but why me?"

I giggled lightly smacking his thigh, rolling my eyes. I looked over to Sam as he tensed at Dean's joke, clearly not finding it funny.

"Hilarious," he said unamused, "Legend also says he hung himself, but did you see his slit wrists?"

"Yeah, that is weird, none of this is adding up," I said scrunching my face in confusion. The two boys paused for a minute looking at me, almost looking confused because I actually talked. Again, I rolled my eyes.

Sam cleared his throat and said, "Yeah he also had that axe. I mean ghosts usually are pretty strict. Repeating the same things over and over."

"His keeps changing," Dean said frustrated, as he started to play with my hair softly.

"Exactly," Sam said, sounding almost as frustrated as Dean, "The story goes... Wait a minute."

I turned my head to look his way as I asked, "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hellhounds website," Sam said, causing me to roll my eyes. Why the hell is he still looking at that website? "They say that Mordechai Murdock was really a sadist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his wrists, now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

As if he was ignoring everything Sam was saying, Dean shot up like he remembered something. I moved out of his lap as realization crossed his face. I looked at him in confusion, and he explained, "I think I know where this all started. Come on."

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I looked out of the window as Dean parked the car, and was immediately confused as to why we are back at this music shop. I shared a glance with Dean through the rearview mirror as he said, "This is the music shop that one kid, Craig, works at. We questioned him two days ago while you were sleeping in the car. He was the one who told us about the guy who lived in the house."

I nodded my head still confused as to how all this matters, "Okay, why are we back?"

Dean smirked, "You'll see."

I scoffed as he exited the car, and helped me out of the back seat. I straightened myself out before following the two boys in front of me into the small shop. I looked around once we entered, and saw all the discs shown in the isles, and noticed a kid walking to the back.

"Hey, Craig," Dean said loudly, catching the kids attention.

His shoulders seemed to tense before turning around, "Listen guys, I'm really not in the mood to answer any more of your questions."

I studied the kid for a moment noticing how defeated he looked, how his shoulders were slumped forward, the way he carried himself. He was sad. Which is totally understandable since two people he knew were killed in that damn house.

"Oh, don't worry man we are just here to buy an album, man," Dean said walking around to appear like he was genuinely searching for the perfect one, but I knew he had his eyes set for one in particular. That has to be why we are here, again.

Craig turned around and started to organize a cart, while Dean picked up the album he was looking for.

Dean looked back at Craig accusingly before slowly walking over to him as he explained to Sam and I, "You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was, and then I realized it doesn't mean anything." He turned his attention back to the kid, who had his back facing us, "It's the logo for Blue Oyster Cult. Now tell me Craig are you into BOC or just scaring the crap out of people."