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Leaves crunched under boots as the two men made their way up the aptly named Hillside Cemetery. Flashlights briefly lit each headstone as they passed, giving just enough time to scan the name before moving onto the next. The chill of late fall permeated the air around them and the wind whistled through the trees.
It was an easy, in-and-out salt-and-burn job. The ghost of a teenage girl, Catherine McHale, had taken the lives of three of her former classmates already and the Winchesters were here to put an end to it. Find the grave, salt and burn the body, don’t get injured by the pissed off ghost, head back to the motel, move on. Couldn’t get any simpler than that.
Except that, as their legs burned from the effort of climbing the hill, Sam put his arm out to his brother to stop him and pointed further up the hill. “Do you see that?”
Dean furrowed his brow and followed the finger. “The hell is that?”
“Don’t know, I’ve never seen a green glow like that,” Sam said, his eyes searching the area around the anomaly, however the lip of a hill blocked the source from sight. “Should we check it out?”
“Might as well. Could be our ghost or something even weirder.”
Sam snorted. “With our luck, it’s definitely something weirder.”
They continued their trek up, now at a quicker pace with their eyes set on the strange, distant glow. As they got closer, their footsteps got quieter and they abandoned their digging gear in favor of a stealthy approach. Once they breached the lip of the hill, they stopped.
A kid, probably in his late teens‒couldn’t be older than nineteen‒with pale skin and shaggy hair tied back in a low ponytail that started out black on top and turned white further down his head, stood inside a ring of candles that burned with an unearthly green flame and a metallic smell almost like ozone hung around the area. In front of him also inside the ring was a headstone that read In Loving Memory of Catherine Jeanette McHale and on the other side of the headstone stood the nearly translucent figure of a teenage girl.
The brothers shared an exasperated look, scenarios of how this could go downhill playing through their minds. Just what they needed, some kid messing with stuff they didn’t understand and getting killed as a result. They pulled out their rock-salt loaded shotguns and jumped into action, dropping their stealth to close in on the gravestone.
“Move!” Dean warned and got in range, his gun trained on the spirit.
The kid and the spirit turned towards the hunters with equal looks of surprise on their faces. The kid held up his hands towards them and yelled out, “Wait! Don’t shoot!”
A well-aimed shot from Dean sent the ghost back into incorporeality.
The kid cried out in frustration. “What part of ‘don’t shoot’ did you not understand??”
“Get out of here, kid!” Dean yelled. Both him and Sam scanned the area with their guns ready for the spirit to return.
The wind was picking up around them, tossing leaves and branches everywhere and toulsing the kid’s hair. Now up close, they could see that he was dressed not dissimilarly from a hunter with denim jeans and a green patterned flannel over a white t-shirt. It was hard to tell the color of his eyes, but the candlelight made them look as if they were glowing green.
“I’m not a- ugh, whatever! I have this handled, you get out of here!”
Sam circled with his gun whipping towards any noise. “Let the professionals handle this! You’re just going to get hurt!”
His aim wasn’t quick enough, however, as cold hands grabbed onto him and sent him flying with an unnatural strength, barely missing an impact with a headstone and instead sending him rolling down the hill.
“Sammy!” Dean called out, looking towards where his brother was rolling. In his distraction, cold hands wrapped around his throat and the twisted form of Catherine appeared in front of him. Shallow eyes filled with murderous intent bore into him as her mouth opened in an ear-piercing shriek. Another shot from his gun made her disappear once again.
“Dammit!” The kid cursed and crouched down to dig through a bag on the ground. “Why can’t hunters ever listen?? It’s always shoot first, ask questions later with you!”
Sam made his way back up the hill and went to recover his lost weapon. “Dean? Are you okay?”
“Just peachy, ” Dean wheezed. “We need to fall back and get our equipment! Kid, you need to get out of here!”
The kid finally pulled something from his bag and opened up a book bound with dark leather, flipping through it. “Catherine, I’ll give you one last chance! I know you’re hurt, I know they were your friends, you have every right to be upset, but no one else needs to die! I promise on my honor and title that I will make sure they see justice, but you need to move on!”
Another shriek pierced the air forcing both brothers to drop their weapons and cover their ears. The force of the gales buffeted against them and distantly Dean wondered how the candles hadn’t been blown out yet.
“I’l take that as a ‘no,’” the kid muttered to himself and stopped on a page. Then, loud and clear with a voice of authority, he started to read out what sounded like an incantation in a language that neither Sam or Dean could identify.
“NO!!”
The girl appeared in front of the kid and, instead of attacking him like the brothers expected, fell to her knees, crying and begging. It continued through the incantation and both men had to get low as the gales grew in strength. Somehow the kid stood through the madness almost unaffected by it.
With the punctuation of a sound like paper being torn, a bright white light, and one last shriek, the incantation ended. Everything grew still as the wind died down back to its normal breeze.
It took a moment for the brothers to collect themselves in the aftermath of the chaos and in that time, the kid returned his book to his bag and started muttering to himself as he started to pack up.
“I was so close to helping her move on, but you hunters always have to swoop in and play the hero.” One by one the candles were blown out and put away. “It’s always your way or the highway, burning bones and putting the ghost through more shit than necessary. No learning or understanding, just violence. Ugh, I’m starting to sound like Jazz.”
“There’s no reasoning with a vengeful spirit, kid.” Back on his feet and reoriented, Dean argued. “Quickest way to get yourself a one-way ticket to whatever afterlife you’ve earned.”
The kid shot a glare at Dean. “I’m not a kid, I’m eighteen. The name’s Danny. And this isn’t my first rodeo, I know what I’m doing.”
Dean snorted. “Still a kid to me.”
“How were you doing that?” Sam asked before Danny could snap at his brother. “She didn’t try to attack you or anything, she even seemed afraid of you. We’ve never seen anything like it.”
From someone human was the unspoken addition.
Danny’s rage seemed to simmer a bit at the question and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a psychic medium. Ever since I was fourteen, I’ve been able to see and talk to ghosts, so now I travel and find the ones that haven’t left and try to help them move on. Most of the time they do, but sometimes they won’t listen and I have to banish them beyond the Veil.”
“And that’s what you did with that book,” Sam finished, nodding in understanding. “What was that language anyways? I’ve never heard anything like it.”
Danny shrugged. “Some ancient, dead language used to speak to ghosts. I don’t know what it’s called, but I can read and speak it like it was my first language. My mentor gave me the book and taught me how to use it.”
The brothers shared a glance silently communicating their dissatisfaction before looking at Danny as he put out the last of the candles. Dean turned on their electric lantern before the area could be plunged into darkness.
“What about the candles?” Sam asked, nodding towards the box they were stored in. “I’ve never seen flames burn like that outside of a chemistry teacher’s demonstration.”
“They’re infused with ectoplasm,” Danny answered, sending both the brothers’ eyebrows up into their hairlines. “It gives ghosts more power and makes it easier for them to appear so I can talk to them.”
Dean pulled out his EMF reader and began to sweep the area. It whined erratically. “And that doesn’t backfire if one of them is pissed off?”
Danny winced. “It does, yeah, but I banish them before it gets out of hand. Look, as much as I love a good game of twenty questions, ripping a hole in the Veil kind of tires me out, so, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go to the nearest motel and pass out.”
“Yeah, no, of course, of course,” Sam said. “We’ll probably do the same soon. It was nice to meet you, Danny.”
Danny accepted their offered hands, giving them a firm shake. “You too, Tall Man One and Taller Man Two.”
Sam chuckled. “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.”
A strange look flew across Danny’s face but it was gone in a moment, instead replaced by a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It was nice to meet you, Sam and Dean. Please never interrupt my work again.”
“Hear you loud and clear,” Dean said and gave a mock salute. “Stay safe, kid.”
With a wave, Danny grabbed his supplies and started his journey down the hills towards the entrance of the cemetery.
The brothers watched him until he was out of sight and then turned to each other.
“That was weird,” Dean stated what they were both thinking.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, really weird. Anything on the EMF?”
“It was going crazy earlier but now?” He waved the little device and it remained silent. “Nada. I think the ghost really is gone.”
Sam crossed his arms, a puzzled expression on his face. “Ripping open the Veil, that’s some crazy powerful magic. And other than the candles and book, I didn’t see any signs of a ritual. No weird ingredients, no blood. And ectoplasm-infused candles? How would anyone collect that much ectoplasm?”
“Don’t know, but I don’t like it. Something reeks and it’s not just the candles. You think Ellen or Bobby might know more?”
“Maybe,” Sam said, shrugging. “Worth a try. We can check in with them in the morning.”
The two collected their abandoned digging gear and, after one final sweep of the area to confirm everything was silent, they made their way out of the graveyard and back down to the parking lot. They stowed everything away in the trunk, but Sam paused and surveyed the empty lot.
“Hey, do you remember any cars or anything when we parked?” He asked as his eyes scanned the area.
Dean paused and considered the question, also taking a look around. “Nope, nothing I can think of. Why? You think he walked here or something?”
“Dunno,” Sam responded absentmindedly. “Maybe he parked down the road.”
“Maybe. We’ll figure it out later, right now I want to get some sleep before the sun’s up.”
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Sam got in the car. It was tomorrow’s problem.
The Impala rumbled to life and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove through the forested area back to town, agreeing to revisit their weird experience after a good night’s sleep unaware of the invisible eyes that followed them.