"Is anything that comes out of your mouth the truth?"
"You wouldn't believe me, even if I answered that honestly."
•
As soon as you learn that the things that go bump in the night are real, the line between truth and fiction begins to blur.
That's t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 7
Scrambling to her feet, Ali's hand tightened around the cold iron of her crowbar, shivering as the temperature of the air dropped noticeably around her.
"Ali? You good?" Sam's voice echoed up from the chamber below, sounding decidedly distant as she squinted into the darkness that surrounded her like a thick cloak.
"Just hurry." She called back, trying not to sound worried as the steady rhythm of the Tommyknockers crept closer, the gentle tapping becoming more rapid. As her knuckles whitened around the iron bar, she didn't doubt that her theory of the miner following the Fae spirits was correct. "Alright, come out and play." She hissed to the darkness, swallowing back the icy fear that rose in her chest.
In the tunnel beneath the chamber where they had left Ali, Sam grimaced at the stale odour that drifted through the still air.
"Think we're getting close." He muttered, grunting as he knocked his head against the stone roof of the tunnel.
"Well keep going." Dean frowned, urging him on with a hand on his back, "The sun's down, and we've left Ali up there with no flashlight and no shotgun."
"Shit- right, yeah." Sam nodded, hurrying as quickly as he could down the dark passageway, his skin prickling as he thought he heard the distant sound of knocking.
"Shit!"
Ali's cry of alarm echoed through the chamber as a pickaxe whistled past her face in the darkness, the only thing that made her step back was the angry snarl that had prefaced the swing. Blindly, she struck out with her crowbar, trying to guess where the spirit was stood as she tried to avoid stepping back into the gaping hole in the floor that the Winchesters had kindly left. Another yelp passed her lips as the miner's growl ripped through the air, another aimless dodge carrying her out of the way of his vicious swing and a desperate swipe of her own connecting with the spirit, a breath of relief leaving her as the tell-tale smouldering ash of a vanishing spirit briefly lit the chamber.
Though judging by the still-frantic tapping of the Tommyknockers, she hadn't bought herself nearly enough time. She just had to hope she could keep the spirit distracted long enough to let the boys do their thing.
"Got him." Sam grimaced as the beam of his flashlight bounced back at him as they met the end of the tunnel, illuminating the brittle, dried corpse dressed in miners' overalls.
"Gross." Dean grimaced, passing forward the backpack full of salt and gasoline just as a cry echoed down the tunnel, "Step on it, Sammy." He muttered, his grip tightening on his shotgun, "I'm gonna go check on your girlfriend."
"I- she's not-"
"Quickly."
A yell of frustration escaped Ali as the tip of the pickaxe caught the sleeve of her jacket, tearing it as she jerked away, scrambling back against the stone wall and lashing out blindly again as her breath came in frantic pants.
