Deity | Supernatural ☆ON HOLD☆

Chapter 4

(Pilot, S1 E1)

The three stood in a motel lobby as Dean checked in.

"One room, please." "You guys having a reunion or something?" The clerk asked as he looked at the credit card Dean gave him.

"What do you mean?" Sam questioned, his hand on Erica's shoulder, softly rubbing the tension out of it.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

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Once the three checked into their room and got John's room number, Erica offered to pick the lock on his door.

"Y'know, you're really starting to surprise me, Sunshine." Dean hummed, watching her pick the lock with her pocket knife.

"Why's that?" "You can shoot a gun, you have a hell of a punch, you carry a pocket knife, and you can pick locks."

Erica grinned as she pushed the door open, "I know I'm awesome," her voice was stable, but she had to hide yet another wave of nausea that had tried to overcome her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Dean muttered as they walked into the room.

The walls were covered in research and salt lines were drawn at each entrance.

"Damn, somebody call room service." Erica sassed as Dean picked up a burger, sniffing it, and immediately recoiling.

"He definitely hasn't been here for a few days," Sam said, "Salt, cats eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Erica and Dean tilted their heads in unison as they examined some of the papers on the walls.

"Centennial highway victims." She muttered, and Dean looked at her in confusion. "How did you know that."

Erica shrugged, "I heard you talking about it in the library, and I researched it behind your back. You two aren't as slick as you think."

The brothers shared a glance as Erica trailed her finger along the papers.

"I don't get it. I mean, different men,
different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's usually always some sort of connection, right?" Erica said, thinking out loud, "What do these guys have in common?"

"Dad must have figured it out. He found the same article we did," Sam paused, "She's a woman in white."

"A what?" Erica asked, and Sam sighed.

"It's hard to explain, but she's a ghost. Me and Dean hunt ghosts, our dad hunts ghosts, that's why we had the fake IDs. We're supernatural hunters."

"Like Scooby-Doo?" Erica ventured. "No-, the monsters in Scooby-Doo were just people. What we hunt, they aren't people. The woman in white isn't a person."

The dark-skinned girl shook her head, "You're wrong. I mean, I'm really behind on this whole hunting thing you're talking about, but Constance was a person. With a family, a husband, kids, she lost it all. Hell, I don't blame her for whatever the hell she's doing. She needs to move on."

Dean glanced at Sam, "You're not wrong, but she's a vengeful spirit. We have to salt and burn her bones so she can move on."

"Great, we're on the same page. So let's go burn some bones," She paused, "Oh god, that sounded insane."

"Okay, okay, slow down, Sunshine," Dean looked at Sam, "Dad would have already burnt her bones, right? So maybe there's something left, some sort of weakness. We need to check her grave. Does it say where she's buried?"