09x19 - Inject the Venom - Part Two: Go in Hard
Episode number: 09x19 of Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)
Title: Inject the Venom
Subtitle: Go in Hard
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 1,573
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, language, undead
Clayton, Delaware. Detective Seth Lambstone drummed his fingers impatiently as he listened to the other man on the phone.
"Yes, sir, I understand," he said.
Lambstone took plenty of crap. He expected as much, given his unusual last name, but the FBI swooping in on his big break in this case was just one kick too many. The two men checked out, though, so what else could he do?
"All right," he said to Sam and Dean, "your boss confirmed your assignment."
Sam made a mental note to send Garth a present for running the phones for them.
"Thank you, Lambstone, now we'd like to take the witness into custody," Sam said.
"Right, I'll get the paperwork - "
"Lambstone," Dean said. "That's an, uh, unusual name, isn't it?"
Lambstone bit his lip. "My mother's last name was Stone. My father's was Lamb. When they got married they decided they didn't want to hyphenate so they just combined them, hence Lambstone. Any other questions in regards to my name?"
"My partner always does that," Sam offered as apology. "Asks about names. Nicknames especially. Don't mind him."
"Officer Murphy, could you please get the witness out of holding?"
"Why did you decide to hold Mr. Bass to begin with?" Sam asked.
"He was the last person the victim, Esther Cassirer, spoke to. Coroner put time of death around the time of the phone call."
"So he was on the phone with her when she died?"
"As much as we can tell," Lambstone replied.
"Something tells me you think there's more to his story," Sam said, picking up on the detective's tone.
"We haven't been able to pinpoint his location," Lambstone explained. "He was on a very high-tech cell phone, the kind the Marshal service uses. They ping between towers."
"So what?" Dean asked.
"He was already in town when Esther called him," Lambstone replied. "Since we can't pinpoint his location, we can't be sure if he's involved."
"Is there any indication that he's did this?" Sam asked.
Lambstone shook his head. "He has a weird history. A really weird history."
"This is Mr. Bass," Murphy said unceremoniously dragging him out of the other room.
Aaron Bass seemed the same as the last time they'd seen him. When he saw who the FBI Agents were, his eyes bulged a bit, but he did his best to keep his expression blank.
"Thank you, Officer Murphy," Sam said. "We're gonna get to the bottom of this, I promise."
Lambstone's grimace made it clear that he didn't want to give the case up, but he muttered a basic good luck goodbye to them before he sat down at his desk.
Once out in the parking lot, what small amount of poker face Aaron had finally slid off.
"Holy crap," he said. "How did you guys know I was here?"
"We didn't," Dean said. "We caught wind of this case, thought it might be a zombie thing."
"Fill us in on the way," Sam said, indicating the back seat of the Impala.
"Uh, can we make a stop?" Aaron asked as they all plopped into the car.
"Where? Why?" Dean asked.
"I left my golem in the hotel room," Aaron admitted.
"How's that been going?" Sam asked.
Aaron considered his words. "You know. Since I've taken charge of him, officially, it's been better. In public, he's my cousin Adam now. I'm trying to, you know, finesse his people skills. Get him up to speed with this century."
"I know that dance," Dean commented mildly. "Any success?"
"A little. Trouble is, I'm not actually a rabbi."
"That's trouble?" Dean asked. "How?"
"The Judah Initiative was originally made up of rabbis, which gave them certain connections," Aaron explained. "They were in a position to help. I always end up looking sketchy. Clearly that detective guy thought I did something."
"So, you're like us," Sam said as Dean started the car.
"Where we headed?" Dean asked.
After Aaron promised not to leave the room before they returned, Dean finally relented and agreed to meet up again after dinner.
"I dunno, leaving him alone, after he's gotten himself on Lambstone's radar," Dean said. "We're not even sure what's going on."
Sam replied, "We have to check out the morgue slash crime scene. And the one body we have left. We can't be dragging him around with that detective in high alert."
The morgue was utter disarray.
"Sure only three bodies did this?" Dean asked.
"Three autopsied bodies," Sam pointed out. "And I think that explains this."
Something had ripped the refrigerator used to house organs post-autopsy to shreds.
"So, zombies wake up, pissed they're missing their parts, and they rummage around to get their bits back," Dean said. "Sounds like what would I do."
"So many jokes," Sam replied. "Not enough time."
"Shut up."
"Who are you?" a small weedy man asked.
"I'm Agent Page," Dean said. "This is my partner, Agent Hoffer. FBI. Who are you?"
"I'm Edward Stevens," he replied. "I'm the interim coroner while Doctor Freedman is on medical leave."
"Ah, well, we're investigating this attack," Sam said. "What can you tell us?"
"To put it mildly, Esther Cassirer died of blunt force trauma," Edward said.
"And, uh, not mildly?" Dean asked.
"She was beaten to a pulp."
"Do you know what the weapon was?" Sam asked.
"Fire irons, three of them."
"Three of them?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, fingerprints from the three other stiffs matched. So, theoretically, each of the men found dead at her house wielded one fire iron and beat her to death," Edward said, his voice full of hesitance.
"You sound less than convinced," Dean pointed out. "Why?"
"I assisted on the autopsies, and only one of the assailants, Joshua Cassirer, had died within twenty-four hours of Ms. Cassirer."
"Her husband?" Sam asked.
"Yes, and even his body showed signs of decomposition, or at the very least substantial dysfunction."
Sam's nerd brain went into overdrive. "What do you mean, substantial dysfunction? Specifically."
"If the organs were here, I could show you - "
"But they're not," Dean cut him off. "So just tell us."
Edward fumbled. "Atherosclerosis hardens the arteries. Severe enough cases present a catastrophic affect on the circulatory system. But these three bodies... it's like their blood had stopped, and their arteries were like rock. I've never seen anything like it."
"Have you identified the other bodies?" Sam asked.
"Technically, we haven't officially confirmed them," Edward replied. His lack of authority pissed Dean off.
"But?" Dean prompted impatiently.
"Well, someone matched the bodies to descriptions of missing person's reports filed in the last week," Edward stumbled. "Zachary Osterweil. His wife Karen filed the report, but the bodies disappeared before she could id him. And Benjamin Wolfson. Maya Wolfson, his wife, also filed a report - "
"But the bodies got up and walked away before a proper id," Sam cut in.
"We were told the coroner and an assistant were attacked," Dean said. "Any chance we could talk to them?"
"They're both still down at Mercy Grace General, and, uh, neither one of them was making a lot of sense. Trauma can do that to you," Edward replied.
"Okay, can we see Ms. Cassirer's body?"
Edward nodded and unveiled her body. "We left it out here, since technically it's a crime scene."
He hadn't lied: Ms. Cassirer had been beaten to a pulp. At the very least, they kept hitting her well after she was dead. Unlike recent cases, though, the beating didn't seem super-human in nature.
"Did the police tag the murder weapons?" Dean asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," Edward replied. Something about him annoyed Sam. Both brothers existed more than a little pissed off.
Aaron paced in front of the beds in his motel room. He didn't like this at all. Zachary and Benjamin had connections to the remnant of the Judah Initiative. According to his grandfather's journals, and to his golem, Zachary's parents had provided the Initiative with cover stories and alibis. Benjamin had been among those who aided in the continuing sabotage of magical experiments after World War II.
"Joshua Cassirer," Aaron repeated.
"No," the golem spoke. "I've never heard of him before."
"Esther Cassirer, originally Esther Markowitz."
"Sarah Markowitz, and her children Samuel and Gideon, and their children, Jordan, Michael, Jacob, and Esther. They all aided the rabbis."
"Esther Cassirer. That's the connection," Aaron said, still pacing.
"You seem agitated," the golem pointed out.
"As soon as I try to activate the old contacts of the Initiative, people start dying in horrible ways," Aaron said. "Of course I'm agitated."
"Whatever's happening is not a result of your work," the golem dismissed.
"How do you know that?"
"Because your work is to save lives, and you have not yet set anything in motion. Therefore there is nothing to retaliate against."
"Yeah, but maybe I stirred the pot enough to cause this."
The conversation was stopped by a strong knock on the door. The golem checked the peephole.
"The Men of Letters are here," he said.
"Let'em in."
"Woah, uh, hi," Dean said.
"Aaron. Golem," Sam said awkwardly.
"So, we checked out the morgue, and this thing's got zombies written all over it," Dean said. "Except that zombies don't usually recollect their organs."
"What does that mean?" Aaron asked.
"It means that whatever's going on involves dead people," Sam said, "no longer being dead. I think you're right. The Thule Society is at work here."
<<< Previous Part:
Part One: Heart and Hope
Next Part: >>>
Part Three: Scratch like a Cat
Primary Post: 09x19 Inject the Venom
Primary Post: Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)
Title: Inject the Venom
Subtitle: Go in Hard
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 1,573
Rating: R
Warnings: violence, language, undead
Clayton, Delaware. Detective Seth Lambstone drummed his fingers impatiently as he listened to the other man on the phone.
"Yes, sir, I understand," he said.
Lambstone took plenty of crap. He expected as much, given his unusual last name, but the FBI swooping in on his big break in this case was just one kick too many. The two men checked out, though, so what else could he do?
"All right," he said to Sam and Dean, "your boss confirmed your assignment."
Sam made a mental note to send Garth a present for running the phones for them.
"Thank you, Lambstone, now we'd like to take the witness into custody," Sam said.
"Right, I'll get the paperwork - "
"Lambstone," Dean said. "That's an, uh, unusual name, isn't it?"
Lambstone bit his lip. "My mother's last name was Stone. My father's was Lamb. When they got married they decided they didn't want to hyphenate so they just combined them, hence Lambstone. Any other questions in regards to my name?"
"My partner always does that," Sam offered as apology. "Asks about names. Nicknames especially. Don't mind him."
"Officer Murphy, could you please get the witness out of holding?"
"Why did you decide to hold Mr. Bass to begin with?" Sam asked.
"He was the last person the victim, Esther Cassirer, spoke to. Coroner put time of death around the time of the phone call."
"So he was on the phone with her when she died?"
"As much as we can tell," Lambstone replied.
"Something tells me you think there's more to his story," Sam said, picking up on the detective's tone.
"We haven't been able to pinpoint his location," Lambstone explained. "He was on a very high-tech cell phone, the kind the Marshal service uses. They ping between towers."
"So what?" Dean asked.
"He was already in town when Esther called him," Lambstone replied. "Since we can't pinpoint his location, we can't be sure if he's involved."
"Is there any indication that he's did this?" Sam asked.
Lambstone shook his head. "He has a weird history. A really weird history."
"This is Mr. Bass," Murphy said unceremoniously dragging him out of the other room.
Aaron Bass seemed the same as the last time they'd seen him. When he saw who the FBI Agents were, his eyes bulged a bit, but he did his best to keep his expression blank.
"Thank you, Officer Murphy," Sam said. "We're gonna get to the bottom of this, I promise."
Lambstone's grimace made it clear that he didn't want to give the case up, but he muttered a basic good luck goodbye to them before he sat down at his desk.
Once out in the parking lot, what small amount of poker face Aaron had finally slid off.
"Holy crap," he said. "How did you guys know I was here?"
"We didn't," Dean said. "We caught wind of this case, thought it might be a zombie thing."
"Fill us in on the way," Sam said, indicating the back seat of the Impala.
"Uh, can we make a stop?" Aaron asked as they all plopped into the car.
"Where? Why?" Dean asked.
"I left my golem in the hotel room," Aaron admitted.
"How's that been going?" Sam asked.
Aaron considered his words. "You know. Since I've taken charge of him, officially, it's been better. In public, he's my cousin Adam now. I'm trying to, you know, finesse his people skills. Get him up to speed with this century."
"I know that dance," Dean commented mildly. "Any success?"
"A little. Trouble is, I'm not actually a rabbi."
"That's trouble?" Dean asked. "How?"
"The Judah Initiative was originally made up of rabbis, which gave them certain connections," Aaron explained. "They were in a position to help. I always end up looking sketchy. Clearly that detective guy thought I did something."
"So, you're like us," Sam said as Dean started the car.
"Where we headed?" Dean asked.
After Aaron promised not to leave the room before they returned, Dean finally relented and agreed to meet up again after dinner.
"I dunno, leaving him alone, after he's gotten himself on Lambstone's radar," Dean said. "We're not even sure what's going on."
Sam replied, "We have to check out the morgue slash crime scene. And the one body we have left. We can't be dragging him around with that detective in high alert."
The morgue was utter disarray.
"Sure only three bodies did this?" Dean asked.
"Three autopsied bodies," Sam pointed out. "And I think that explains this."
Something had ripped the refrigerator used to house organs post-autopsy to shreds.
"So, zombies wake up, pissed they're missing their parts, and they rummage around to get their bits back," Dean said. "Sounds like what would I do."
"So many jokes," Sam replied. "Not enough time."
"Shut up."
"Who are you?" a small weedy man asked.
"I'm Agent Page," Dean said. "This is my partner, Agent Hoffer. FBI. Who are you?"
"I'm Edward Stevens," he replied. "I'm the interim coroner while Doctor Freedman is on medical leave."
"Ah, well, we're investigating this attack," Sam said. "What can you tell us?"
"To put it mildly, Esther Cassirer died of blunt force trauma," Edward said.
"And, uh, not mildly?" Dean asked.
"She was beaten to a pulp."
"Do you know what the weapon was?" Sam asked.
"Fire irons, three of them."
"Three of them?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, fingerprints from the three other stiffs matched. So, theoretically, each of the men found dead at her house wielded one fire iron and beat her to death," Edward said, his voice full of hesitance.
"You sound less than convinced," Dean pointed out. "Why?"
"I assisted on the autopsies, and only one of the assailants, Joshua Cassirer, had died within twenty-four hours of Ms. Cassirer."
"Her husband?" Sam asked.
"Yes, and even his body showed signs of decomposition, or at the very least substantial dysfunction."
Sam's nerd brain went into overdrive. "What do you mean, substantial dysfunction? Specifically."
"If the organs were here, I could show you - "
"But they're not," Dean cut him off. "So just tell us."
Edward fumbled. "Atherosclerosis hardens the arteries. Severe enough cases present a catastrophic affect on the circulatory system. But these three bodies... it's like their blood had stopped, and their arteries were like rock. I've never seen anything like it."
"Have you identified the other bodies?" Sam asked.
"Technically, we haven't officially confirmed them," Edward replied. His lack of authority pissed Dean off.
"But?" Dean prompted impatiently.
"Well, someone matched the bodies to descriptions of missing person's reports filed in the last week," Edward stumbled. "Zachary Osterweil. His wife Karen filed the report, but the bodies disappeared before she could id him. And Benjamin Wolfson. Maya Wolfson, his wife, also filed a report - "
"But the bodies got up and walked away before a proper id," Sam cut in.
"We were told the coroner and an assistant were attacked," Dean said. "Any chance we could talk to them?"
"They're both still down at Mercy Grace General, and, uh, neither one of them was making a lot of sense. Trauma can do that to you," Edward replied.
"Okay, can we see Ms. Cassirer's body?"
Edward nodded and unveiled her body. "We left it out here, since technically it's a crime scene."
He hadn't lied: Ms. Cassirer had been beaten to a pulp. At the very least, they kept hitting her well after she was dead. Unlike recent cases, though, the beating didn't seem super-human in nature.
"Did the police tag the murder weapons?" Dean asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," Edward replied. Something about him annoyed Sam. Both brothers existed more than a little pissed off.
Aaron paced in front of the beds in his motel room. He didn't like this at all. Zachary and Benjamin had connections to the remnant of the Judah Initiative. According to his grandfather's journals, and to his golem, Zachary's parents had provided the Initiative with cover stories and alibis. Benjamin had been among those who aided in the continuing sabotage of magical experiments after World War II.
"Joshua Cassirer," Aaron repeated.
"No," the golem spoke. "I've never heard of him before."
"Esther Cassirer, originally Esther Markowitz."
"Sarah Markowitz, and her children Samuel and Gideon, and their children, Jordan, Michael, Jacob, and Esther. They all aided the rabbis."
"Esther Cassirer. That's the connection," Aaron said, still pacing.
"You seem agitated," the golem pointed out.
"As soon as I try to activate the old contacts of the Initiative, people start dying in horrible ways," Aaron said. "Of course I'm agitated."
"Whatever's happening is not a result of your work," the golem dismissed.
"How do you know that?"
"Because your work is to save lives, and you have not yet set anything in motion. Therefore there is nothing to retaliate against."
"Yeah, but maybe I stirred the pot enough to cause this."
The conversation was stopped by a strong knock on the door. The golem checked the peephole.
"The Men of Letters are here," he said.
"Let'em in."
"Woah, uh, hi," Dean said.
"Aaron. Golem," Sam said awkwardly.
"So, we checked out the morgue, and this thing's got zombies written all over it," Dean said. "Except that zombies don't usually recollect their organs."
"What does that mean?" Aaron asked.
"It means that whatever's going on involves dead people," Sam said, "no longer being dead. I think you're right. The Thule Society is at work here."
<<< Previous Part:
Part One: Heart and Hope
Next Part: >>>
Part Three: Scratch like a Cat
Primary Post: 09x19 Inject the Venom
Primary Post: Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)