Old World Shadows - Chapter 4
By midnight, they had their answers.
“Okay, so let’s review: Klaus Weber immigrates here in 1789 from a small town near Cologne, Germany,” Sam began. “A small town in an area that’s known for its beliefs in all the old legends, including some particularly memorable ones about shapeshifting spirits.”
Grabbing a map of the area around Sanford, Dean pointed to the Keller family farm. “And he settles here, and builds the abandoned farmhouse we saw this afternoon. He has kids, and they have kids, and so on, and after he dies in 1814, some of those kids start disappearing.”
“That’s the key, though - no one disappeared until after he died, but he died in his sleep, so he’s definitely not a vengeful ghost. In fact,” Sam paused for effect, “he was the one who kept the family safe.”
“From this.” With a flourish, Dean displayed a very odd looking wooden carving. Or rather, half of a carving - the bottom section was broken off.
“From the spirit that carving summoned,” Sam corrected. “A kobold. Known for serving their masters well, until such a time as their masters neglect them, at which point kobolds are notorious for turning on their masters. Also known for their ability to shapeshift and become invisible, which explains the boy everyone saw. And according to legend, they can hold grudges for centuries.”
“So when the old man died and his kids tossed the carving, the kobold got pissed, and he’s been pissed ever since,” Dean finished.
“Less than eloquently put, but yes.” It had taken a lot of work to put the pieces together, but this time Sam felt certain that they’d hit on the correct answer. Finding the kobold carving in the museum’s collection of memorabilia had been their first clue, and once they knew what they were looking for, everything had fallen into place. There was just one problem. “Unfortunately, kobolds are very difficult to get rid of once they’ve been summoned.”
Dean didn’t seem too concerned. “You found that exorcism that’s supposed to work - we’ll just use that. Although we have to find the kobold first.”
Dean seemed to have conveniently forgotten the fact that the legends said the exorcisms only worked occasionally, but Sam didn’t feel like arguing. “About that - do you think it’s been taking its victims to the same place each time, at least the ones from this town?”
“I’d buy that. But how does that help?”
“Because I think I know where that place is.” Pulling the Sanford town map towards him, Sam pointed to an area about midway between the Black Bear Motel and the Keller/Weber farm. “I think when I saw Nat, he was trying to show me where he died all those years ago. There’s a ravine in the middle of these woods, and his ghost wanted me to see it. If the kobold took him like it took the others, then that’s where we’ll find them.”
Nodding, Dean grabbed his jacket. “Then let’s go - Emily’s only been missing for six hours. She might still be alive.”
***************
The woods beyond the old playground were denser than Sam remembered. As he wound his way through the maze of trees, the undergrowth of thorns and brambles caught at his clothing, like clawed hands reaching out to snag him. The night was moonless, with streaks of clouds across the sky which blocked out what little light the stars might otherwise have provided.
The beam of his flashlight played across the uneven ground, but even with that bit of illumination, Sam kept catching his feet on roots and rocks that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. In the distance, he could see Dean’s flashlight roaming back and forth through the woods, and the occasional curse word that floated through the trees told him that Dean was having similar difficulties in navigating the treacherous terrain.
It had seemed like a straightforward plan: start from the motel, split up and search the woods until one of them found the ravine, exorcise the kobold, and save the girl. Now, out in the middle of what seemed like an unending forest, Sam was starting to wonder if they had overestimated their chances of success.
Clambering over yet another crumbling rock wall, he straightened and noticed Dean’s flashlight was now strobing red - their agreed-upon signal for sighting anything that might be the kobold’s hiding place. Cautiously, he picked his way through the forest in Dean’s direction. As he got closer, he could see off to his left the edge of what was either a ravine or a steep cliff; the darkness swallowed up the beam from his flashlight before it could illuminate a far bank.
When he reached Dean, they both dimmed their lights and stepped carefully toward the edge. Peering down, Sam felt a chill run down his spine, and even though he couldn’t pull up a memory of this particular spot, he knew in his gut that they were in the right place. “It’s here,” he whispered. “I can feel it.”
Dean nodded, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a crowbar. “Let’s hope kobolds hate iron as much as ghosts and faeries do… You got the exorcism ready to go?”
Sam patted the breast pocket of his coat. “Ready when you are. We have to get down there first, though.” The drop-off directly in front of them wasn’t an option; the rock wall was practically smooth, and Sam didn’t relish the idea of confronting the kobold with a broken ankle. A fragment of a memory flitted through his mind, and he nudged Dean. “Go right. I have a feeling there’s a way down over there.”
Without questioning him, Dean slipped off to the right, playing his light along the edge. After ten yards or so, it became apparent that the ravine was both narrowing and getting shallower - both the far edge and the bottom were now clearly visible. Finding a spot where tree roots provided a good grip, Dean swung over the edge and dropped down into the ravine, and Sam carefully followed.
The floor of the ravine was littered with years of accumulated dead leaves and rotted tree limbs, and they picked their way along it slowly, making as little noise as possible. At any moment, Sam expected the kobold to detect their presence and come after them. He could feel the tension building in his spine, and from the way Dean kept shifting his grip on the crowbar, he was feeling the same thing.
Raising a fist, Dean came to a halt. “Do you hear something?”
Sam listened carefully, and heard the unmistakable sounds of a child crying. “It’s got to be Emily.” He took a quick step forward, but Dean’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“No. You know the plan - I grab the girl and you get rid of the kobold.”
Quashing his urge to rush to the little girl himself, Sam readied himself, flattening out the paper with the exorcism and running through it once more in his head.
Creeping forward, they came to a large boulder halfway blocking the ravine. The sounds were coming from the far side of it, and Sam gave Dean a quick nod to let him know he was ready.
Giving an answering nod, Dean rounded the boulder, with Sam on his heels.
The first thing they saw was Emily, curled in a ball against the wall of the ravine, hugging her knees to her chest. Her clothes were dirty and torn, her hair matted with sticks and leaves, and her face was tear-streaked. Seeing them, she shrank back in fear.
Dean rushed to her side, while Sam hung back, watching for the kobold. Murmuring reassurances, Dean knelt by the little girl. “Are you okay? Can you walk?”
She nodded hesitantly, and with Dean’s help, got to her feet.
Grabbing her hand, Dean turned to leave. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an unseen force flung him into the wall.
With a scream of rage, the kobold manifested. It was a hideous creature, the size of a child, but with gnarled limbs and a grotesquely distorted face. Its fingers were clawed, and its eyes were black and cold. Shrieking, it advanced on Dean. “Mine! It’s mine!” It swiped at Dean again, and he only just managed to get the crowbar up in time to protect his face.
“Persequar te malignus, et vocavi te per Deum vivum, per spiritum Dei…” Sam quickly started on the exorcism, all the while sending up a silent prayer that it would actually work. “…et egredimini de loco isto, et non est reversa.”
With a piercing shriek, the kobold rounded on Sam. It attacked with inhuman speed, flinging Sam into the boulder. The impact drove the wind out of him, and he struggled to get enough air to continue.
Behind the kobold, Dean scrambled to his feet and grabbed Emily’s hand, dragging her down the ravine away from the creature. For a moment, Sam thought they might escape, but the creature seemed to be able to sense when someone else touched its prey. Forgetting about Sam, it turned once again on Dean.
Sam was able to yell a warning, and a swing of the crowbar knocked the kobold aside. With an enraged snarl, it crouched and sprang again, only to be met once more by the cold iron of the crowbar.
“Praecipio tibi in nomine Domini, et percussit in patibulo crucis triumphavit…” Reading the unfamiliar Latin words from a crumpled sheet of paper by flashlight was not ideal, but Sam’s pronunciation was apparently good enough, because the kobold was once again looking at him. “…et medetur percutit et dominabitur tibi. Idcirco praecipio tibi…”
This time, its attack was swift and silent. With a thrust of its arm, the kobold threw Sam into the wall of the ravine. His head connected painfully with the rock face, and he heard his flashlight shatter as it smashed into the rock as well.
From across the ravine, Sam heard Dean yell, “Hey, ugly, over here! I got your girl.”
Whirling, the kobold advanced on Dean, shrieking out its possessive cry once more, “Mine! It’s mine!”
“Heads up, Sammy!” With a quick flick of his wrist, Dean tossed his flashlight in Sam’s direction. The kobold took advantage of this momentary distraction to backhand Dean into the far wall of the ravine.
Ignoring the pain in his head, Sam snatched the flashlight out of the air and peered at the script of the exorcism. It took him a second to find his place. “Idcirco praecipio tibi ut nunquam iterum terrent habitantium…” He knew he only had a few moments before the kobold would turn on him once more, so he rushed through the ending. “…in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, qui tecum vivit et regnat in saecula saeculorum.”
As Sam said the final “Amen,” the kobold let out an even higher pitched screech and vanished.
Sam sagged against the ravine wall, suddenly feeling all the pain and terror he had been ignoring.
Across from him, Dean scrambled to his feet, dusting off leaves and dirt. “You alright, Sam?”
Sam started to nod, then stopped when that sent a stab of pain through his skull. “I’m good. Is Emily okay?”
“I dunno; you’ve got the flashlight.”
Stepping forward, Sam shone the light down the ravine. Emily hadn’t gone far; she was peeking out from around a rock. Both brothers went to her immediately.
“Are you okay?” Sam crouched down to look the girl in the eyes. As far as he could see, she didn’t have anything worse than a few bruises.
She nodded, sniffling. Reaching up, she wiped a dirty sleeve across the tears and snot on her face.
“The monster’s gone now,” Sam said. “It’s going to be okay.” Looking up, he caught Dean’s gaze. Dean jerked his head toward the kobold’s lair, and Sam gave a quick nod. Turning his attention back to Emily, Sam continued, “Do you think you can be very brave for just a little bit longer and stay here by yourself for a minute? We’ll be right over there.”
Squaring up her little shoulders, Emily nodded once again, and Sam gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before straightening up and stepping away.
With a glance at Dean, Sam steeled himself for what they were likely to find.
A quick search of the ravine revealed a shallow cave about fifty feet further down. As they got closer, the stench coming from it became nearly unbearable, and Sam gagged, unable to take another step.
Taking the flashlight, Dean went ahead. “I’ve got this. There’s no need for both of us to see this.” After only a few seconds, he returned, his face pale in the ghostly light from the flashlight. “Three fresh bodies, and older bones as well. You were right about the kobold bringing his victims here, at least some of them.”
Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat. He’d expected this, but that didn’t make it any easier. “At least we weren’t too late for Emily.”
Dean nodded grimly. “That’s a win in my book. Now let’s get out of here and get her home.”
***************
Back at the Black Bear Motel, Sam stood staring into the mirror. He’d washed off the grime from the ravine floor, and cleaned up the gash on his head, but something was still nagging at him. Even the joy on the Judsons’ faces when they saw their little girl again hadn’t been enough to quell this gut feeling that things weren’t quite resolved.
As he ran through the details of the case in his head, he kept coming back to the fact that exorcisms weren’t generally successful against kobolds. But this kobold had definitely vanished, so why was he so concerned?
Dean banged on the bathroom door. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Sorry.” Sam splashed some water on his face, then opened the door. “All yours.”
Sprawling into a chair, he grabbed his laptop and started reviewing his research, looking for anything that might point to the cause of his unease. It wasn’t until he went back to the old stories that he figured it out.
Dean emerged from the bathroom just then, toweling his hair dry.
“We need to burn it down.” Sam jumped in without any preamble. “Klaus Weber’s house. We need to burn it and the carving, otherwise the kobold will come back.”
With his hair sticking out every direction and a baffled look on his face, Dean managed a very coherent “Huh?”
Sam pressed on. “It’s been bothering me ever since we got back - the exorcism was too easy.”
“Too easy? I seem to remember both of us taking quite a beating.” Dean tossed his towel onto the bed. “What are you talking about?”
Running his hands through his hair, Sam kept at it. “In the old stories, it’s next to impossible to get rid of a kobold for good. Exorcisms aren’t enough; they just temporarily dispel the kobold’s physical manifestation. Pretty much the only guaranteed way to deal with them permanently is by burning their links to the physical world. And since they’re house spirits, that means burning the house they’ve claimed as their own, plus the carving that called them in the first place.”
Dean nodded thoughtfully. “It makes sense, I guess. Arson is a pretty big deal, though, even for us.”
“The house is abandoned,” Sam said quickly. “And if we don’t burn it down, we’re responsible for every other kid that this kobold takes, for generations and generations.”
“You certainly know how to make your case.” Reaching for his shirt, Dean started to get dressed. “We’ll need some gasoline and lighter fluid if we’re going to do this. And a good getaway plan.”
Sam closed his laptop. “I’m on it.”
***************
It was almost dawn by the time they made it back out to the old farm. The bare branches of the trees in the distance stood out in stark silhouette against the cold sky, and the predawn silence gave an added air of solemnity to what they were about to do.
The old farmhouse was nearly falling apart already, and with the combination of gasoline, lighter fluid, and wood rot, Sam knew it would go up in a great blazing conflagration at the slightest spark.
“Do you want to do the honors?” Dean extended a lighter.
Taking it, Sam stepped up to the front stoop. The lighter caught on the first try, and he held it up to the old wooden carving of the kobold. It took a moment for the wood to catch fire, but then it was burning in his hand, the flames flickering around the grotesque face. With a swift toss, Sam flung the carving into the entryway and backed away.
Within moments, the flames were spreading across the floors and up the walls, moving inexorably to consume the entire building. The intense heat forced them backward, until they stood in the driveway. Leaning on the Impala, they watched the fire rage, spouts of flame shooting out of the windows and flaring out of the chimneys.
As Sam watched the house burn and the flames leap into the sky, he felt the resolution that had been missing before. It was finally over. No more children would die at the hands of this monster. For an instant, he imagined Nat Keller’s ghost watching and smiling, his task completed.
In that moment, Sam knew he would never dream of the boy in the woods again.