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Free Supernatural Fanfiction – Chapter Summary:

Analina joins her first hunt at a haunted house. Her unique senses pinpoint trapped spirits & a new threat. She proves vital, leading a strategic defense.

Rating: PG-13
Contains:  Supernatural Peril and Conflict, Implied Threat/Violence, Mild Language, Intense Sequences

CHAPTER SIX:  
My First Hunt

DURING MY TRAINING, I didn’t experience another demon or angel attack. I slowly got better in my training skills. I was still not a great shooter, but I at least hit the target sufficiently. Eventually, they agreed that I could come with them on one of their simpler cases—or so they thought.

MY FIRST OFFICIAL HUNTING TRIP with Sam and Dean seemed pretty easy—a haunting at an old house that was up for sale many times over. Having some experience sensing spirits before, I thought it would be interesting to see how much that had grown since I met the Winchesters.

The house was just sold to someone who knew Bobby and what he did, but he was not a hunter. Bobby said that he would have someone take care of it for him, so the guy could fix the house up and rent it out. The history of the house wasn’t unusual, at least nothing that was ever recorded. The prior owners had consistently noted strange noises, electrical problems, cold spots, and uneasy feelings. No one was actually hurt, but some people had a few close calls. One man claimed he was “pushed” while going down the stairs. A woman was shocked while using a blow dryer. It was the little things that added up to a move.

No unusual deaths took place in the house. The first owner’s wife had a stillborn but later delivered three more children in that house who grew up to be fine and healthy. Without finding much on the background that would indicate who was haunting the house, we decided to see what was inside. If the spirit appeared, we might be able to match it up to an old photo or something. Once identified, we could salt and burn the bones to get rid of the spirit. It was also possible that this was a false alarm.

Dean parked the Impala just outside the house. The yard was overgrown with weeds, and the once-white paint was peeling from the sides of the house. The dark green wooden Victorian porch looked warped and grayer than it must have been. A few pieces of the house littered the front lawn. Its appearance from the sidewalk screamed “haunted house.”

“You ready?” Dean asked me as he went around to the trunk to pull out some supplies with Sam. When they had originally told me how they shot ghosts with salt bullets to slow them down, but not kill them, I was skeptical. I ended up saying, “Considering they are already dead, I can see how that wouldn’t actually kill them.” To which Dean sarcastically replied, “Cute.” Sam just smirked. Since they had more experience with this, I figured that the salt rounds did work. I wondered if I would see it in action today.

I nodded, and we walked up to the house. The stairs gave way under our weight, but thankfully didn’t cave. We were given the key so we had no need to break in. Dean unlocked the door and looked back at us. Sam nodded his head that he was ready.

The door squeaked open. The house was old and musty. It must have been up for sale for a long time. Furniture still scattered throughout the rooms, some with white sheets over them. Dust was everywhere. It was quiet. Nothing moved. The air itself was cold and oppressive—at least to me.

We slowly made our way down the hall, glancing as we passed each room. It didn’t seem like anything was going to jump out at us, so Dean brought out the EMF detector. I slowly opened myself up more to the house. It felt strange. Not a normal haunted house. I was sure of that. Something else was here.

Ignoring what was around me, I could pinpoint a spirit upstairs. Dean stopped, and I almost bumped into him. Noticing the EMF was doing nothing for him, I moved his hand so that it pointed just above him.

“Right there,” I said, and the EMF started to light up before stopping. I continued to move his hand as the spirit moved upstairs.

Dean looked back at me surprised.

I shrugged. “She’s upstairs.”

“Alright, Tangina, lead the way,” Dean said, turning off the EMF detector.

I ignored the Poltergeist reference. I glanced up the staircase that was to our right side. “Something feels weird, though.”

I started to climb anyway. I only took a moment to appreciate the old, detailed wooden banister. There was a job to be done here, I reminded myself. I refocused my thoughts. The spirit felt nervous or scared. It didn’t make sense if this was the same spirit that terrorized all those prior homeowners. Wouldn’t it be more aggressive?

The top of the staircase looped around down a long hall with closed doors. She felt like she was near the end of the hallway, probably in one of the bedrooms. I started to walk with Dean and then Sam behind me. I got near the end of the hall and suddenly stopped as the spirit moved back in the opposite direction. This time, Dean bumped into me.

“Sorry, she moved back into the other room, I think,” I said. I started to go to the door behind us, but then she moved forward again. I sighed. “She’s scared. She keeps pacing.”

“Scared? Scared of what?” Sam asked.

I shrugged. I opened the one door, hoping she would stop pacing. I had never seen a spirit; I just felt them. With my newfound skills, I realized I could pinpoint things better—especially the location. The mood was something new, too—or at least the intensity of it.

She came in through the walls. She didn’t look old or ghostlike. She looked like a regular person from recent years, which didn’t really make sense. The house had been vacant for such a long time, according to the documents Bobby gave us.

Dean raised his gun, but I pushed it back down. I whispered, “Really? A gun? She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Who are you? Leave this house,” the woman said, staying as far back as she could. She had white-blond hair and gray eyes. Perhaps they were once a different color, I considered. She wore a pair of jeans and a blouse. I estimated her to be around her mid-thirties.

“We should be telling you the same thing,” Dean replied, eyeing her up. However, he did lower the gun.

“I can’t leave,” she said sadly. She looked up suddenly. “You need to leave now!”

The guys just blinked back in shock at the ghost’s change in intensity. I, on the other hand, had a small feeling for what was coming. Then it started to make sense why this ghost was here and unable to leave. Also, why she didn’t seem to fit with the house. I began to sense the others—somewhere in the basement and sporadically throughout the house.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, I asked, “How many of you are in here?”

“Others?” Dean asked. He looked around but didn’t see anything.

“About a dozen or so,” she said, nervously looking beyond the door. “You have to leave!”

“You need to get out before it gets here. I can try to help you,” I said quickly. The thing that was coming was a demon, but not one possessing a human. It was using the spirits to gain power. It must have gotten hold of the spirits as they died in the surrounding area. The demon was using them to move up in the demon world. The more souls a demon collected, the stronger it became. We were actually in a very dangerous situation, considering that we didn’t know about this.

“No, I can’t,” she said, wringing her hands.

“But…”

“I won’t leave without my daughter.”

“Where’s your daughter?” I asked.

“She hides, usually in the basement. She is too scared to leave this place.”

“Analina, what’s going on?” Sam asked.

“A demon is trapping them in the house, and it’s coming back.” Even as I said this, I could feel the air getting heavier and cooler.

“What’s your name?” I asked the ghost.

“Dottie.”

“We’ll get your daughter, but you need…”

“No!” She flashed forward a little. I jumped slightly.

“It’s coming,” I turned to Sam and Dean. “Do you have anything for a demon with you?”

“Not much. We could draw a devil’s trap,” Sam said.

“I don’t think that will work. It’s not possessing anyone right now. It would be black smoke if we could see it.”

Sam dug in his bag and pulled out some salt. They started to seal off the room. I wasn’t sure how long that would buy us, let alone solve the problem.

“Dottie, if you won’t go, then maybe you can help us. We need to get the spirits here to cross over.”

“It won’t let us,” she blurted. If a ghost could cry, I was sure she would be doing so now.

“We’ll deal with the demon, but it’s getting its power from you and the others. We have to make it weaker.” I paused for a second. “Go and quickly tell the others what is happening. Anyone who is able should leave now. I can help them if they can’t.”

The salt lines were drawn all around the room.

“Can you do that?” I asked her when she didn’t answer me.

Her eyes grew wider, but she nodded. I went over to the door that led to the hallway. I got ready to break the line so she could leave. “Ready?”

The demon was coming fast. I ran my finger through the line. She quickly flashed out, but a force knocked me back. Sam reapplied the line as Dean helped me up. I thought I heard a growl in the hallway.

“You alright?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.”

“So now we have a demon and multiple ghosts to take care of,” Dean stated rather than questioned. He ran his hand over his face.

We heard thumping in a nearby room. The demon was pissed, and who knew what it was doing with the spirits trapped in the house. Not to mention what it would do to us once we left the salt-protected room. An idea popped into my head. Sam and Dean were discussing potential options.

“What if we go around protecting each room? Then we can slowly trap it and stop it with the exorcism,” I suggested.

“We don’t have enough salt for that,” Sam said with a sigh.

“You don’t need salt. How much holy water do you have?” I asked.

They each held up a small flask that they kept in their jacket pockets. I grabbed Dean’s because he was closer.

“That should be enough,” I muttered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. His one eyebrow was raised.

“Here. Watch.” I went over to the door and moved a nearby chair over to the door to stand on. I opened the flask and wetted my finger just enough to write with. I quickly drew a small cross over the doorway with the characters 20CMB10. I said a quick prayer—improvising a little because 1.) I couldn’t remember it word for word and 2.) it included a request to Michael the Archangel. Considering we were trying to avoid that particular archangel at the moment, I figured we didn’t want to push our luck and have him appear. I repeated the steps to the other doorways—closet and bathroom—in the room.

Satisfied, I stood back and broke a salt line. Sam and Dean tensed with their guns in their hands, but nothing happened.

“This room is done,” I said, glad that my improvisation worked. “We have to do that to all the rooms, though.”

“And the more rooms we do, the more this thing is going to get pissed off,” Dean stated, obviously.

“Yep,” I agreed, not liking that prospect.

“So how do we protect the room?” Sam asked.

I decided to bask in the moment of knowing something they didn’t later. We had bigger problems at the moment. I quickly explained the holy water writing. That was easy. It was a basic yearly house blessing. The prayer or incantation, as they liked to call it, was a little longer, and I did not know it off by heart, so it was possible that I would change the wording for each room.

“Let me see your phone,” I said, handing Dean the flask. “I’ll record it on it here, so all you have to do is play it.”

I pressed a few buttons. I took a deep breath because I wanted to get it out as fast as possible—especially when we were going to need it near the end. “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, strengthened by the Blessed Virgin Mary, angels and saints, we ask that you break and dissolve any and all curses, hexes, spells, seals, satanic vow and pacts, spiritual bondings and soul ties with satanic forces, evil wishes and desires, traps, deceptions, and every dysfunction and disease from any sources that have been placed on this house or those who will reside here.”

I sucked in a breath as I hit stop.

“For once, something in English,” Dean noted. Dean looked like he was about to say something else, but Sam interrupted.

“So we need to keep this thing away from the other spirits so they can cross over? And, they are where?” Sam looked at me.

“Umm, it feels like most are downstairs. In the basement,” I clarified. “There are a few hiding about the house.”

“I say we split up and take the basement and this floor. We can squeeze it into the first and deal with it there. If the spirits are in the basement, we can keep them away from the demon so we can do our job,” Dean said. He took a quick look at us and continued. “Sam, you finish up here.” He tossed his cell phone to Sam. He turned to me for a moment. “You and I will start in the basement. We’ll meet you in the living room.”

Plan in place, we opened the door. It was silent in the hallway. Dean peeked around the frame, and a gust of cold wind blew by.

“Showtime,” Dean muttered.

Image by ChatGPT and tweaked by Copilot

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