Maddison Winchester: Journal 3 {Supernatural}

13 Ghostfacers!: Part 4

Images of the exterior flashed on screen and then back onto the group.

BASE CAMP: MAGGIE'S CAMERA

"Dude, there's no records of any of this here. No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a friggin' train," Dean said.

Sam looked down at me. "Stay close."

I nodded up at him.

"Did the echoes take Corbett?" Maggie asked.

"Yes. No." Dean turned to look at the camera. "I don't know. We don't know what's doing what here; that's what we're trying to figure out, okay?"

Sam turned to the camera. "Okay, look, um, death echoes are ghosts, okay? Now, ghosts... they usually haunt places where they lived or where they died."

I looked into the camera. "Except these spirits didn't live or die here."

Sam nodded. "Right."

"So, what are they doing here?" Maggie asked.

"Hey, give the lady a cigar." Dean smirked. "All right, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean—"

"Um... I, uh... well, yeah. Uh, yeah. I think so, mm-hmm," Maggie said.

Dean raised his brow. "Oh."

We continued down the hallway, where we entered a room filled with cobweb-covered, taxidermized animals.

Sam held up a broken, framed certificate. "Freeman Daggett, house's last owner, officially commended for twenty years of fine service at the Gamble General Hospital."

"He was a doctor?" Dean asked.

"Janitor," Sam said.

"This looks like his den. When'd you say he died?" Dean asked.

"1964," I said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, heart attack."

"What are these? C-rations?" Maggie asked, and the camera panned over to a pile of boxes.

"Yeah, army-issued, three squares..." Dean said as he flashed his light over the pile. "Like a lifetime supply."

"God, is that all he ate?" Maggie asked.

"One-stop shopping," Dean said as he walked over to a safe. "Hello." He pulled at the handle. "Locked."

"Oh, come on, guys. This is ridiculous. I mean, how the hell is this supposed to find Corbett, huh?" Ed asked. "We should be digging up the friggin' floorboards right now."

Sam held up a dusty pamphlet. "Huh. 'Survival Under Atomic Attack.' An optimist."

There was a loud bang as Dean pried the safe open. He pulled a box out and started pulling papers out. "Crap. Crap. Taxidermy. Okay. You said Daggett was a hospital janitor?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Ew... got three toe tags here... one, death by gunshots, train accident, and suicide," Dean said.

"Ew," Sam said with realization on his face.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, that explains why all the death echoes are here," Sam said, "They're here because their bodies are here—"

"Somewhere in the house..." I frowned. "That's just nasty."

Dean nodded. "Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue. To 'play.'"