[from here]The storage area wasn't exactly spacious, and though the two of them probably still could've fit inside, crowding into a small space was never a good plan, even without the prospect of getting jumped by something supernatural. With chemicals and glass around, the last thing he was interested in was knocking something over
( ... )
Holding his flashlight under his arm, Dean took the syringe and the pads, passing them off to Sam before he went rummaging around for anything else. A lot of it was general lab equipment, stuff they couldn't use without electricity and, even then, probably wouldn't be too useful. Somehow, Dean didn't think he'd have much of an every day need for an incubator. However, he did like the look of the marble mortar and pestle: if they needed to mix anything, it beat having to try to do it with the butt of a flashlight. Dean handed off that, too, to Sam, before continuing his search. Picked pretty clean, looked like. After a good ten minutes of searching, Dean turned back to Sam
( ... )
The sound was faint at first, easily dismissed as something merely imagined. After all, even in this place, why would there be a child weeping as though it had lost everything most dear?
A wisp of breeze curled past Sam in the doorway, bringing a momentary chill into the small closet before it dissipated again. It was almost as though someone had opened a door to winter air, allowing in a draft - though there had been no sound of movement nearby.
Sam leaned against the door frame, one eye on the room outside. He took the mortar and dropped the syringe and alcohol pads inside it, and was just reaching over Dean's shoulder for one of the glass beakers-never knew when a container might come in handy-when he heard it.
Crap.
Freaking spirits were everywhere in this place. No surprises given where they were, but still. They really needed a decent shotgun. Among other things.
He didn't waste time, tugging on Dean's jacket to get his attention, though he was sure Dean had heard the crying just the same, felt the slight dip in temperature. The last spirit had been a crying boy, too, and he wasn't sure whether it was this place or what, but that seemed to kind of be the MO here.
Probably not the same one, though. The other little boy was different, his crying less...unsettling, in a way. If that meant this particular spirit was an omen, too, of something worse to come (suffocation by hair, for example), Sam had no idea. And he wasn't gonna wait to find out
( ... )
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A wisp of breeze curled past Sam in the doorway, bringing a momentary chill into the small closet before it dissipated again. It was almost as though someone had opened a door to winter air, allowing in a draft - though there had been no sound of movement nearby.
[tiassa - o hai gaiz ♥]
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Crap.
Freaking spirits were everywhere in this place. No surprises given where they were, but still. They really needed a decent shotgun. Among other things.
He didn't waste time, tugging on Dean's jacket to get his attention, though he was sure Dean had heard the crying just the same, felt the slight dip in temperature. The last spirit had been a crying boy, too, and he wasn't sure whether it was this place or what, but that seemed to kind of be the MO here.
Probably not the same one, though. The other little boy was different, his crying less...unsettling, in a way. If that meant this particular spirit was an omen, too, of something worse to come (suffocation by hair, for example), Sam had no idea. And he wasn't gonna wait to find out ( ... )
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