𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

059

Another service.

Same gloomy weather.

Same sick people.

And same church protester outside the tent.

It was just like how we first came here, except this time, we knew it wasn't miracles that were happening around here. It was death—literally.

"If Roy is using a spell, there might be a spell book." Sam states as we all pile out of the car.

"Weird, I thought he just made it up in his head." I say sassily.

"See if you two can find it. Hurry up too. Service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy." Dean tells us, moving for the tent.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I wave off.

"Roy Le Grange is a fraud. He's no healer." The protestor from last time tells us, handing each of us a flyer.

"Amen, brother." Dean pats him on the back.

"You keep up the good work." Sam adds in.

"Thank you."

Sam and I sneak towards the reverend's house, careful to not grab attention to ourselves from the security. I press the both of us against the side of the house when I catch Roy, Sue Ann, and a guard walking down the steps. I poke my head around after a moment passes then nod at Sam, giving him the all clear when I see they've gone away.

He opens the window and climbs inside, me following him with more grace since I'm smaller and can fit easier through the small window. I close the window back up soundlessly, looking around me to observe the place.

It looked like we were in the living room, with the TV, couch, and coffee table. There is an old timey feel to the house as we walked throughout. Crosses and small statues of Jesus and angels everywhere—it reminded me of my home.

My mother always loved angels, would say that they protected us from the evil in the world, that they looked out for our family. It seems like she was wrong considering where she is now. As far as I'm concerned, if angels are real, they can kiss my unholy ass.

Sam picks his way into the library and I don't waste a second to look around. I mean, who knew how long we had before someone came back to the house.

"I'm sorry, Jennifer." Sam apologizes suddenly. I look away from the bookshelf I'm observing and meet his eye. He has stopped looking through Roy's desk and just stands there looking at me. He shifts on his feet. "I don't want you thinking that I see you as a monster, 'cause I don't." I frown at him.

"Well, you should." I tell him, looking back at the bookshelf.

"What?" He asks, completely stunned. I sigh, fully turning to give him my attention.

"I know I'm not a good person, Sam. I'm worse then Roy—honestly. I shouldn't have snapped at you the way I did. I just, it hurts a lot more when you say it because, well...because your opinion matters." I shrug.

"You're not a bad person, Jen. Sure, you've made some bad decisions, but that's human. What Roy is doing is like Dean said, he's playing God when he isn't. That's bad. Evil." He says. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. I wanted to ask him how first degree murder was any less evil then controlling a reaper, but I kept my mouth shut.

We had more important things to worry about.

I nod my head, turn back to the bookshelf, and look closely at the books. I notice how the shelf was mostly dusty except for one spot, like the book there was constantly being pulled out, not allowing dust to collect in that spot. I grab the book and open it.