Short Story

1668 Words7 Pages
“The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. I even checked with a professor who found the exact god that we are dealing with,” Fay answered.

“And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin' ‘em up like a Christmas turkey,” Dean grumbled.

“The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims,” Sam pieced together.

“Yeah, I'm thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god,”

“So, a god possesses the scarecrow,”

“And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread,” Fay finished.

“Do you know which god you're dealing with?”

“Yes, it is a woods god that brings
…show more content…
You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I,” Dean stopped, causing Fay to look at his green eyes. They were swimming with envy and regret. “Anyway….I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy. Say you'll take care of yourself,” Dean said, shaking off the feeling. “Call me when you find Dad,” Dean hung up the phone. This time Fay grabbed his hand, weaving her fingers between his.

“You are a good brother and a good son,” Fay commented.

“I do what is expected of me,”

Fay turned to Dean, “You do more than you need to. You could have a wife and family now. You could go off and do other things. The fact that you are staying here purely because of your loyalty to your family says a lot about you,”

“I am no superman,” Dean sighed. He pulled over and once again, let Fay out next to the entrance to the town. “Stay away from the orchard,” he said, driving off. Fay just rolled her eyes and walked off. Dean drove back to the cafe. As he was shutting the door, the officer came up from behind him and knocked him out with his gun.

-----

The morning was dark and grey. Fay sat in a motel room, reading through the grimoire. Like expected, there were simple and neutral spells. However, it was hard for her to concentrate on the spells. Ever since she woke up, there was a knot in her stomach. Little did she know that dean was spending his time in a cellar.

“Aunt Stacy. Uncle Harley, please. Why

More about Short Story

Get Access