Dean's Cowgirl /✔

Chapter Eighteen.

Mom had taken it pretty well. I suppose it was her crazy active imagination and the fact that Sam backed me up when I said they were in danger. after we had told her that she couldn't leave the house without one of us, and that while me and Dean were hunting the vampires, Sam would stay with them to protect them. she just nodded at that.

"only smart, I suppose." she mumbled. then Sam got his bag from the impala and me and Dean headed off.

"you do know how to shoot a gun, right?" he asked, after he had pulled over in a field with hay bales. he had set up a target on one of them and had a rifle and pistol. of course I knew how to shoot a gun. I'm a fucking hotshot.

"damn straight, babe." I said, reaching for the rifle. he hesitated then handed it to me along with the bullets for it. I saw that it was a bolt action and it didn't have a scope on it. before I loaded it, I pulled back the bolt and sighted it, making sure it was to my eye level. then I put a bullet into the chamber and pushed the bolt forwards. then I laid on the ground, in prone (the laying down shooting position). I put the butt of the gun into the crook of my shoulder and held it there firmly. I put my cheek up to the stock, and closed my left eye, looking into the sights. I put the front sight in the correct position and took a small breath, holing it. then I kept the sights on the middle of the target and squeezed the trigger back. the gun kicked, but I kept it in my shoulder. it had a strong kick and it made my shoulder sore but I had done it right and didn't break anything. I stood up and handed Dean the rifle, walking over to the target. right in the middle. Dean saw it and his mouth fell agape. he looked at my smug face to the target, and back again.

"but you're a civilian!" he said. I shrugged.

"everyone in Nebraska knows how to shoot a gun." he put up a new target since I had nailed that one with the rifle and put the gun away. then he turned to me with the pistol he always uses and a clip with two bullets in it. I cocked it back, to check the chamber and shoved the clip into the gun firmly. I looked at him and grinned. he grinned back sarcastically, looking defeated. I pushed the button to take off the safety and aimed the gun, putting my right hand on the grip with my finger stretched out to the trigger and my left over it, securing it. I bent my elbows just the tiniest bit so when the gun kicked, it didn't hurt me. then I outstretched my arms and aimed. I put the front sight on the target and the rear sight on the front one and squeezed the trigger. it kicked, and I shot again. I pressed the release, the clip falling out into my hand. then I put the gun into the trunk of the impala. I followed Dean to the target to take a look. it was about an inch away from the center, but it was still good. I don't shoot pistols as often as rifles. he looked at me again, amazed. I shrugged making a 'whatever' face.

"ok, you can obviously take a gun if I give one to you to defend yourself." he said, cocking his head as if to say wow, ok. he slammed the trunk shut and got into the car. I climbed into the passenger seat and we drove away to hunt down the coven of vampires threatening my family and everyone else who lived here.

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"ok, they should be here somewhere." Dean said, driving past an old house. it was the county haunted house. my dad's friend had lived there when he was about twenty and damn, does he have some stories.

"stop." I said. I looked at the house closer, ignoring the deep, gut feeling of dread. there. on the porch was a puddle of blood.

"look. they're here. you probably want salt too, this place is  haunted." I said. he rolled his eyes. "no I'm serious, Dean! my dad's friend lived here once. so when he was in the bathroom waiting for my dad to get done working and come get him, he heard someone knock on the door. he had yelled 'come in!' but instead of coming in, he had heard a 'come outside.' he ignored it and continued shaving, and he heard the knock again. the same thing happened. it happened several times, until he finally went to the door. he opened it and nobody was there. and also, when my dad was sleeping on his couch, he could hear whispers and felt a tickling all over him. when he opened his eyes, the entire house was empty." he looked at me.

"good enough. you take the salt shotgun and i'll get the vampires while you cover me from ghosts." he said and opened the door, getting out and going to the trunk. I followed him. I glanced at it, feeling the dread roll off the house and yard around it like a wave on the ocean. the guy who had built it had killed his family in the house. then he had hung himself in the yard, the rope attached to that very tree. Dean picked up the shotgun and salt shells. he handed them to me. I grabbed a pouch that would hang from my shoulder and put a lot of salt shells in it.

"get enough?" Dean said, chuckling.

"let's just say from all the stories around here and the feeling I get every time we drive by, this place terrifies me." I give him a small smile. he just smirked at me. I followed him up to the property line, the edge of the yard. he stepped over it and I followed, staying as close to him as possible. as soon as my foot had landed on the dead grass, the feeling of dread completely engulfed me. I was almost swimming in the feelings of fear, hate, and pain. something brushed my hand and I jumped back, pointing my gun at it. Dean held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. when I was a teenager, me and my cousin/best friends would always find some way to scare ourselves. once we downloaded a ghost tracker app on her phone and we were convinced it was fake. until it said boat. her dad lived out at the lake and he had pictures and models of boats all over the house. it was almost an obsession. at first we thought it was just listening to our conversation and repeating a random words we said, but we hadn't said anything about the lake, the boats or even the pictures. after that, a picture of a boat on open water that hung in her room didn't look right. it was off somehow. then the next time I went back, I looked at it and realized that the rowboat beside the big boat, had held two people originally. when it had looked off, there was only one. it scared the shit out of us and we didn't mess with it again.

"don't shoot anything but the ghosts with that. we need the salt shells." I nodded and followed him towards the porch.

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hey y'all! just wanted to say that the story about the ghosts in the haunted house are true and so is me and my cousin. it really had scared the shit out of us and I'm more scared of the dark than I used to be. most of the time I can convince myself that it isn't real but sometimes I have to sleep with the light on. don't judge me. there really was a house near my town that my dad's friend had lived in and my dad had slept in. those stories are true. this shit is real. if it's real life demons or gods, or ghosts or whatever it is, it's real. I don't know what it really is, but IT. IS. REAL.

thanks for reading, and remember to vote and share if you're enjoying it! ^^