The Haunting of Lockwood Estates | Nancy Drew x Supernatural Crossover 01

Chapter 21 - Sam

Lockwood Estates

Blackridge, New Hampshire

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

"Maybe he was a nut who saved his own toenails."

"Do you see any jars of toenails, Dean?" I ask in disgust. "I mean honestly, we scoured this whole fucking place yesterday."

"Sammy, I'm surprised at you," he says with a shit-eating grin, "Cussing like that."

"Pfft. Like you're so mature." I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. "I mean honestly." I throw my arms up. "There is nothing here that could bind a ghost. Sherman or otherwise."

"Then that means we missed something," he says, looking me in the eye. He wanders over to the china cabinet on the far wall, which holds an array of candlesticks.

"You really want to be wandering around the mansion at night?" I ask. "You didn't even want to come."

"Well, if we have to be here, Sammy, might as well get some work done!" he says the last two words slightly louder for Nancy's benefit, not even bothering to look back at her.

I grit my teeth. "Dean, I want to find what this ghost is attached to, but shouldn't we be more focused on making sure we all survive the night?"

"That's what I'm doing!" he says in his classic I-Know-Better-Than-Thou voice. "I mean honestly." He drags a finger across the china cabinet, revealing that the dust was a good inch thick. He snorts. "Why..." Dean starts with a mocking tone, "does this feel familiar?" He picks up a cobwebby candlestick in mock interest, and waves it in my face.

I know he doesn't mean the candlestick. "Dean." I change my stance and cross my arms.

"How do we always end up protecting people who are just so stupid?" He sets down the candlestick with a thud. "Dude." He lowers his voice to a hiss. "I got less than two months left, and we end up in the exact same situation twice, twice," he holds up two fingers, "in the last few weeks. First it was those 'Ghostfacers' at the stupid Monroe house like what, a week ago? Week and a half? And now it's this 'Nancy' chick. What is it with these people and defying spirits?"

I roll my eyes at him and turn around to apologize to Nancy for my brother's lack of tact.

All I see is an empty dining room.

My face falls. I work my jaw and dart the flashlight's beam around. The hot-tempered red-head is nowhere to be seen. "Where's Nancy? I thought she was right behind us."

"Oh." Dean glances back. "I thought so too."

"You were just talking smack about her."

"Yeah. I was hoping she was listening for once."

"You were hoping that she was listening to you talk about her right in front of her?"

He pauses. "...Well, yeah."

"You are unbelievable," I tell him.

He just shrugs.

I check my watch. "Dean. It's four after midnight. If legend says that anyone who spends the night..." I trail off.

"I told you, man! It's the freakin' Monroe place all over again!"

The only door open is the one we came through, leading to the front of the house. And these doors are far too creaky for Nancy to have gone out any other way without us noticing. "C'mon," I say with a sideways nod of the head, jogging back into the main room. There is a chilly breeze coming from where the front door used to be, but that's not what catches my attention.

There is a roaring fire in the fireplace, bathing the room in a disturbing, flickering glow.

I squint at it a little in confusion. Just five minutes ago, there was only ashes from who-knows-when. There wasn't even any firewood around to build a fire.

"Nancy...?" I say hesitantly, checking the room. She's nowhere to be found. I look back at my brother. "Dean, did you start a fire?"

"I didn't. Billy Joel sure didn't either."

I give him a confused look.

"You know..." he says, looking flustered, "That song?"

I just stare at him.

"Whatever. Never mind." He scoffs and crosses his arms. "I've been with you the whole time, man. Maybe Nancy lit it?"

Our flashlights flicker.

I slowly look over at my brother, and notice that I can now suddenly see my breath. Oh no.

"Dean."

"I see it." He shakes his head and shouts, "NANCY!"

I spin around in a circle, listening for any sign of the P.I. For a moment, I almost think I can hear a scream, but the sound fades away so quickly that I can't be sure it wasn't the haunted fireplace.

She can't die. Not on my watch. No one else. "Do you think she went upstairs?" I ask desperately, setting my jaw.

Dean gives me a bewildered shrug, cocking the shotgun. "Only one way to find out." He runs for the staircase. "NANCY! Are you upstairs?!"