Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Twenty Six

Three hours later, I was ready to call it quits, even just for a little while to go and get some food, but I didn't want to be the first one to chicken out. So, I kept scanning through the papers, becoming more and more tired by the minute.

Suddenly, Sam sat up, getting our attention. "Hey, check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes."

I leaned in closer, reading over his shoulder. "That tracks with a Hook Man. Serial killer."

He nodded. "Uh, right here.... Some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh."

Dean picked up the next paper in his brother's stack, skimming it quickly. "Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook."

I pointed at a piece of information in the article. "Look where all this happened."

Dean breathed an ironic laugh. "9 Mile Road."

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sam added.

His brother gave him an impressed look. "Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out."

I sighed in relief, collapsing back in my chair. "Ugh, finally. I was beginning to think we weren't going to find anything." Stifling a yawn — poorly — I looked through Sam's stack of papers to find all of the ones that pertained to the Karns guy. Gathering them all together, I stood, the three of us heading out of the library and towards the car.

"Why do you think he killed this kid Rich?" Sam wondered aloud.

Dean shrugged, dismissing his brother. "This is a spirit we're dealing with here. It doesn't have to make sense. Kid was in the right place at the right time, so he got killed."

I hummed my disagreement. "Not necessarily. A violent spirit still has some sort of reason to kill. It can't just be that stretch of road— maybe the spirit is tied to it, but Jacob Karns didn't kill in life because of the place, he did it because of the lifestyles of his victims. I mean, he was a serial killer. Why would he give up the morals that led him to kill in life, just because he died?"

Dean gave me a partially impressed, partially confused look. "So, if he killed prostitutes... what, are you saying Rich was a prostitute? I don't think that's—"

"No," I cut him off, worrying at my lip. He was right, it didn't really make sense. "I don't know. But I've seen spirits of murderers before, and there's generally a connection like that."

Sam nudged me gently in the shoulder. "Well, let's go check out the scene of the crime, and then we can be on our merry way."