Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

нoмe ιѕ wнere тнe нeαrт ιѕ;pαrт ғoυr

The morning light barely filtered through the thin motel curtains when Nadia's phone buzzed loudly on the bedside table. The shrill vibration jolted her awake. Still half-asleep, she fumbled for it, blinking groggily at the screen. Madison's.

Her stomach twisted. No one called this early with good news.

"Madison?" Nadia answered quickly, sitting up straight. "What's going on?"

"Nadia..." Madison's voice was raw, choked with panic. "Something—something happened. It's bad. You have to come. Please."

Adrenaline surged through Nadia as she swung her legs off the bed, her heart pounding. Jo was already awake, halfway through pulling on her jacket as if she'd anticipated the urgency.

"We're on our way," Nadia said firmly, already grabbing her boots before hanging up.

Minutes later, their car screeched to a halt in front of the grandmother's old house. Madison and Austin stood on the porch, shadows of the morning's events etched into their faces.

Madison looked like she hadn't slept, her flushed face streaked with dried tears and her eyes red-rimmed and wide. Beside her, Austin was stiff and pale, his usual stubborn defiance dulled by something darker—shock, guilt, or fear. Maybe all three.

"What happened?" Jo asked, her voice low but sharp as her eyes darted between them.

Madison pointed shakily toward the house, her trembling hand barely steady enough to guide their gaze. "The appraiser... he's... he's dead."

Jo's lips parted slightly in shock, but Nadia's expression hardened into something steely.

"Dead?" she repeated, forcing her voice to stay calm. "What do you mean, dead? What happened?"

Madison's face crumpled, fresh tears spilling over. "Things started happening the moment he walked in. I told my dad we needed to stop, to call you guys—"

"I thought it was nothing," Austin cut in, his voice uneven and defensive. "I didn't think—"

"You didn't think?!" Jo snapped, taking a step forward. "You knew what was going on in there, and you still let that guy walk into a death trap?"

Austin flinched but squared his shoulders. "I thought it was over!" he said, his tone shifting from defensive to desperate. "Everything had calmed down. I thought... maybe we were in the clear. I just wanted to get rid of this place—to finally move on. Do you know how hard it is to process that my mother is haunting my childhood home?"

"Yeah, well, now she's killing people," Jo shot back, her voice icy. "Great job moving on."

"Austin," Nadia interjected, her voice calmer but no less intense. "What happened? Step by step."

Austin's jaw tightened. He exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting to the ground. "We were wrapping up. Just as the guy was about to leave, the temperature dropped. He turned back, confused, and then..." His voice cracked, but he forced himself to keep going. "She was there. My mother. Or... her ghost, or whatever the hell she is now."

He met Nadia's gaze, his eyes hollow. "She looked like she did in her last days—sick, frail. Before I could even say anything, she reached out. Her hand just... went through his chest. Like it was nothing. And then..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Nadia's stomach churned, but her voice stayed steady. "And then she killed him."

Austin nodded stiffly, his lips pressing into a thin line.