The Devil Went Down To Georgia | Supernatural | ✓

Prologue

The bell above them rang as they pushed open the door to the coffee shop that the locals had recommended to them. Anyone with eyes could tell that the two men that walked in were having a heated discussion, it was just the subject area that confused most people or made them look at the two men as if they'd sprouted a second head—paranormal activity. No, not the movie franchise (though they disagreed on those too), rather legitimate paranormal activity. Ghosts, mainly. Who were they?

To most, they were the weirdos of the town, no matter which town they ventured into. But, to a select few, they had a name–a title–and were well-known throughout their line of work (mainly because they were the only idiots stupid enough to livestream most of their work instead of sell it to TV networks). Yes, they were in fact the Ghostfacers, keeping cities safe one ghost at a time.

Even though they'd taken a break from each other and the show entirely, Harry and Ed couldn't deny that they both missed hunting. And they especially missed hunting for their fans to see their work completed. As they were just getting back into it, a lot of the ghost tales they'd heard had already been dealt with by those damn Winchesters that kept getting in their way. A friend of theirs had told them about a lead which had them travelling to Georgia the next day.

And there they were.

Harry and Ed finished their conversation to order coffee, and it was quickly delivered on the bar near where they were standing. Talk of the town was that 'Crazy Connie' went to the shop everyday and would tell stories about the Weeping Angel house that rest just on the outskirts of town. Granted, the two men had no idea what Connie would look like, and they were just hoping that they would know it was her when she walked in. They scoped out a table in the corner where they could see both entrances to the shop in hopes that they could see Connie.

Lost in conversation, they talked about mindless things as they sipped at their cheap coffee. Suddenly, a woman rushed towards their table. The two men looked at her. Her raven hair was streaked with strands of silver, her mocha skin only cracked with the smallest indents of crows feet and smile lines. She smelt of mothballs and lavender soap, a strange concoction, to say the least. She couldn't have been more than sixty. Harry and Ed exchanged looks before Harry spoke up.

"Something we can help you with?"

"Heard you were lookin' for the crazy of the town, darlin's," the woman spoke, her voice crisp and clear.

"Um, we–" Ed stumbled.

The woman held her hand up, "The abyss told me, 's no use in tryin' to keep it from me." She smiled kindly, extending a hand towards them. "Connie Fairborough," she laughed, "Also known as Crazy Connie. Mind if I take a seat, sugars?"

Ed and Harry each shook her hand, introducing themselves and graciously telling her to take a seat. She pulled a chair from an empty table. The back of the chair was facing Ed and Harry's table, she straddled the chair as she sat down, resting her forearms on the back. She smiled as she looked between them. While she was looking at Ed, Harry pulled out a video camera and placed it so that they had more footage when they were going through editing.

"So you talk to an... an abyss?" Ed managed, looking at the woman.

"Well, sugar, it's more like the abyss talks t'me," Connie tapped her temple with her finger. "It's like a radio station that likes to turn on when something happens in the spirit world, y'know?"