Legacy (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {3}

29. The Fog

29. The Fog

Well, this smells big. Way bigger than some of the cases we've been on recently.

This scene should be all too familiar for us: the black van, the body bags, the officers, cop cars, police tape. Sometimes it feels like we should be cops more than hunters.

Our most recent case had been one of the strangest we'd encountered, and we'd encountered some strange things. What do I mean by this? Well, we were in Gunnison, Colorado, where there had been this urban legend called "the chitters". This "lovely" legend told that during the spring equinox people in the town would get consumed by lust—to put it modernly, they got pretty horny. Their eyes would glow green and orgies would happen in the woods.

Yeah, well, what "the chitters" turned out to be was this cicada spirit called a Bisaan that inhabited human hosts by entering their mouths and using the bodies to mate to produce the next generation. On the upside, Sam, Dean, and I got to meet a pair of hunters—and by pair, I mean married gay couple. They'd helped us, one of them had lost a brother to a Bisaan when he was younger.

At one point, we'd considered asking them to lend us a hand with the whole Amara deal, but we let them go. They had a life away from hunting, which is something hunters never usually get.

I personally was more than happy to be done with the Bisaan. Nasty freaking creatures.

There seems to be a pattern that I haven't picked up on yet, with this new case. A man by Wes Cooper had been the first victim, and now this woman and her husband are the newest victims. On Wes's body, according to Sam, in the pictures, Wes had black veins on his skin. To me, that meant nothing, as this is the first time I've seen something like this happen.

I have a feeling Sam and Dean know what this is.

So, naturally, when we got the call about the situation, we put on our FBI suits and made it out to the scene.

"Sorry I woke you folks," says the sheriff.

"No, no, it's all right," I say, half-asleep. "Just, uh, why don't you tell us what happened here?"

"Harris didn't show up for work this morning. We called, tried her CB, nothing. So, I swung by here. I found Art on the kitchen floor, Harris' shotgun right next to him. She...it looks like Deputy Harris shot her husband point-blank in the face. Then left the scene."

The victim before, Wes Cooper, had snapped. Gone from stable to unstable, to now dead. This sounds like the same tune.

"Did you notice anything off about Deputy Harris' behavior the last couple days?" Sam asks her.

"No. Nothing at all."

"When was the last time anyone heard from her?"

"Called in for the last time yesterday. Said something about...seeing some fog rolling in. I don't know why she cared about the damn weather."

Judging by the looks on my brothers' faces, it's something they've definitely seen before.

"Would you get into contact with your dispatch officer? Tell her to let us know if she gets any more reports like that again," says Dean.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, just to be safe."

"And do you have any idea where Harris might be now?" Sam asks the sheriff.