Supernatural: Next Generation

The world was too bright. Jesse scrunched up his eyes, trying to turn away. “Close’acurtains,” he mumbled, waving a vague hand.

“They don’t close.” Claire was sitting at the little hotel room table, backlit by the white-out light of mid-morning, filtered through the not-so-functional gauzy ‘privacy’ drapes. Her bare feet were propped up on the table top, crossed at the ankle; her laptop set semi-comfortably in her lap, twitching as she jotted a few things down. The tapitty-tap had stopped when their ‘guest’ sleepily muttered into his pillow, and she was looking his way.

He turned towards the voice, prying one eye open. It fell on Claire for a moment, then he peered around the room. “Usually when I wake up in a hotel with a strange girl and can’t remember gettin’ there, this ain’t how it goes,” he said, trying to shift up in bed. Claire snorted comically.
( “So, ghosts, huh? Bet you deal with those all the time.” )

The sparks looked like stars, zooming up and melding into the night sky. Jesse hadn’t thought of that one himself. A girlfriend - or at least as close as he ever got to a girlfriend - had said it on a night that was pretty similar to this one. Only that night was several years and tens of thousands of miles ago. Then he’d been lying on a towel on the sand with a pretty girl, listening to the waves. Now he was lying on a blanket in the middle of the woods, listening to three guys giggle over their mull. Aside from no possibility of sex, they were pretty equal nights.

“Look,” he said, pointing up. “The fire’s like stars, except falling up instead of down. Stars are made of fires sparks.”

There was silence a moment, then giggles.

“You ain’t far enough along if you’re talking Lion King shit,” said Luke, passing the joint.
( “It-It-- Stu’s dead. Someone killed Stu. He’s bleeding and not breathing.” )
***

“You’re not stopping me that easily, you bitch!” Ben shouted into the darkness. He’d circled the grave he was digging with salt, but the ghost was apparently much more clever than the last one he’d ever torched. She was throwing shit at him. The tree branch that had knocked him over the salt line had been just enough for her to grab him and drag him out a few feet before throwing him bodily against the nearest tree, but he still had the iron chain wrapped around his forearm. A single whip through her and she was gone again, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long.

“I didn’t kill your daughter!” he shouted again. “I’m trying to help you! All of you! You’re dead and you don’t even realize it!” Out of the darkness came another vengeful shriek, echoing against the trees somewhere between words and mindless screaming. Claire grunted as she stomped over a fallen log, having followed the haunting sounds and Ben’s familiar cursing. The flashlight she brought was barely a match for the moonless night; she was glad for the glow of Ben’s lantern when she came to it, despite the scene it revealed. Namely the gray mist rapidly forming the shape of a man directly behind him.
( “Stay here.” )
***

Jesse swore he couldn’t have gone too far, but his limbs felt heavy and he was breathing hard. The world didn’t feel like it was quite in clear focus, not helped by the fact that his flashlight seemed to hardly reach three feet in front of him. But the crying was clear. That he could focus on.

“Where are you?” he called. “Are you alright?”

She never answered, the crying just continuing to get louder and louder. The ground began to slope up but he hardly noticed. Then his feet hit rock, giant boulders jutting out of the hill. The crying came from them. Crawling up on them, he found a crevice, dark and narrow and echoing with sobs. He slithered onto his belly, peering into it with his light. It hit on a crying girl, alright, but not the one he’d been looking for.
( “Why you two always gotta show up and ruin things when I’m tryin’ to have fun?” )

To Be Continued...

Claire didn’t like loose ends, and the tall order passed out on the second hotel bed was one of the biggest she’d had to deal with in a long time. Her eyes wandered over the worn photographs between her fingers--the only things they’d been able to find in the guy’s wallet. No ID, no credit cards or even cash. Just some worn pictures depicting a child--obviously himself--and a few unknown adults.

“You’re saying the crowd just...obeyed him?” She looked up at Ben from her heavy lean on the side of the table. She heard the sound of him spitting in the sink, then a brief on-and-off from the faucet before he came back into view again.

( Never saw anything like it. )