Fic: People Are Strange (4/6)
Fic: People Are Strange (4/6)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Dean and Chloe head to Houston to help out an old friend while Sam and Sarah do their own sleuthing.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7 and Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Sarah
Pairing:Chloe/Dean Sam/Sarah
Rating: pg-13
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Sam switched Chloe's incoming call through the speaker so that they could research together hands-free. He looked across the table to Sarah, but he could barely see the top of her head behind a thick, dusty book.
By tilting his head sideways, he could read the spine with no problem. Human Sacrifice and Religion. Three other books stacked at her elbow had similar titles.
“This is sick!” Sarah said, her voice dripped disgust. “Flaying people alive and wearing the skin, caging people up and burning them to death, strangling them. What kind of mind would think of this?”
“Don't forget the ones that got shut up in a cave and left to starve,” Chloe said dryly. “That's my personal favorite. Is that Sarah with you, Sam?”
“It is. Wish I could be saying hi under better circumstances,” Sarah wrinkled up her nose, closed the book and sat it down with relish. “I would ask how you are, but if this is what you're dealing with, I'd say not that well.”
“Before we get started, what do you guys know about blood magic?” Chloe asked.
“Not a lot,” Sam confessed. “Dad has an entry in his journal. He helped Pastor Jim put down a blood cult near Duluth. But he didn't write much about it, and I don't remember either him or Pastor Jim mentioning it.”
“How old were you at the time?” Chloe asked.
“I would have been . . . four. And Dean, eight.”
“That's part of it,” Chloe said quietly. “You don't adapt well to . . . people being flayed alive and then go home and hug your kids. It's just too disturbing. Your dad probably looked at you boys and decided to leave the blood cults to folks who could deal better.”
Sam and Sarah exchanged uneasy glances across the table. If John Winchester had steered away from hunting blood cultists for his own mental well being, what did that have to say about Chloe's friend Mac and his family?
Oblivious to their wordless exchange, Chloe continued with her lecture.
“Blood magic seems to spring up wherever there's a mix of human blood and religion,” she said. “Somewhere along the way, demons get mixed up with the old-religion gods and before you know it, you have ordinary people doing the scary just for the sake of magic and power.
“Rumor has it that when Hitler was going nutty over the occult - chasing down the Spear of Destiny and the Holy Grail, he had a couple hundred blood mages helping him.”
Sarah shivered at Chloe's words. In response, Sam reached across the table and enveloped her tiny hand in his larger one. She looked up at him with a shaky smile.
“So I can't even begin to stress how much I want this hunt to be over with,” Chloe said.
“We understand, Chloe,” Sam said sympathetically. “What do you need from us?”
“Specifically, I thought an extra set of eyes could help me pin down which of the old religions we're dealing with. If we can figure out which religion they're basing their ritual on, then we can follow the pattern to figure out their next move.
“Given the area we're in, and the fact that the victims were carved up using an obsidian knife, I'm going to say that we're not going to be looking for Druidic wannabes trying to stuff someone into a wicker man.”
“Based on the files you sent us, we were thinking Mesoamerican,” Sam nodded at Sarah to pick up the thread of the conversation.
“That was my guess,” Chloe said. “But the problem is that there was so much cross-culture pollination. How do you know if you're dealing with Toltec, Mayan, Aztec or some blend of the cultures?”
“I'm thinking Aztec,” Sam said. “The murder of the children sounds like part of the ritual devotion to Tlaloc.”
“Tlaloc?” Chloe asked.
“The Aztec rain God.” Sam reached across the table and pulled a book out of the middle of Sarah's pile. “Or more accurately, the rain God of the Nahuatl-speaking people. But for the sake of simplicity, let's just call them Aztecs.”
“Simplicity is good,” Sarah chimed in.
“Agreed,” Chloe said. “Why children?”
“Lore states that he is served by small people. Sacrificing children invokes sympathetic magic. Did the children have their fingernails torn off?”
“They did,” Chloe's voice was subdued.
“That's consistent with the rituals,” Sam said with a melancholy sigh. “Sympathetic magic again. They make the children cry to encourage it to rain.”
The three of them grew silent as they contemplated the grim topic. Finally, with a fortifying gulp, Sam picked up the thread of the conversation.
“If that monstrosity was based on worship of Tlaloc, then the rest of the murders should fit in with the other rituals of the Aztec calendar.”
“How many rituals are we talking about here?” Sarah asked.
“Twenty,” Sam said. “One for each month of the religious cycle.”
“That's a lot of rituals,” Chloe said with a low whistle.
“Fortunately, the cycle is less bloody as it turns. We've just come through a turning. It could have been worse.” Sam flipped through the book until he found the passage he was looking for.
“The murder of those twins coincided with Tepeilhuitl, The Feast of Mountains,” he said. “The death of the college student would have been around the time of Tititl, The Stretching. And the murder of the children would have been part of Atlcualo, The Ceasing of Water.”
“What's the next ritual in the cycle?” Chloe asked.
“Ceremonies where they flay people and wear their skins,” Sam said. “And sacrifice by fight-to-the-death.”
Chloe sucked in a breath at that. “How long do we have?”
He looked at the ceiling while calculating the dates in his head. “The month started March 14th, and runs through April 2nd.”
“Less than a week,” she breathed. “I need to get this information to Mac.”
“Call us if you need anything else,” Sam said.
“Will do,” Chloe said. Then the line clicked dead.
Sam looked at Sarah over the expanse of table. Her eyes were as grim as he felt. “What are you thinking?” she asked him.
“I'm thinking that we ought to call Bobby and start looking for Mr. Mackenzie and his other son,” Sam said. “Because - if Dad decided that he shouldn't be hunting blood cults, then I'm not feeling good about the idea that this guy specialized in it.”
Sarah nodded in agreement.
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Dean and Chloe head to Houston to help out an old friend while Sam and Sarah do their own sleuthing.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7 and Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Sarah
Pairing:Chloe/Dean Sam/Sarah
Rating: pg-13
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Sam switched Chloe's incoming call through the speaker so that they could research together hands-free. He looked across the table to Sarah, but he could barely see the top of her head behind a thick, dusty book.
By tilting his head sideways, he could read the spine with no problem. Human Sacrifice and Religion. Three other books stacked at her elbow had similar titles.
“This is sick!” Sarah said, her voice dripped disgust. “Flaying people alive and wearing the skin, caging people up and burning them to death, strangling them. What kind of mind would think of this?”
“Don't forget the ones that got shut up in a cave and left to starve,” Chloe said dryly. “That's my personal favorite. Is that Sarah with you, Sam?”
“It is. Wish I could be saying hi under better circumstances,” Sarah wrinkled up her nose, closed the book and sat it down with relish. “I would ask how you are, but if this is what you're dealing with, I'd say not that well.”
“Before we get started, what do you guys know about blood magic?” Chloe asked.
“Not a lot,” Sam confessed. “Dad has an entry in his journal. He helped Pastor Jim put down a blood cult near Duluth. But he didn't write much about it, and I don't remember either him or Pastor Jim mentioning it.”
“How old were you at the time?” Chloe asked.
“I would have been . . . four. And Dean, eight.”
“That's part of it,” Chloe said quietly. “You don't adapt well to . . . people being flayed alive and then go home and hug your kids. It's just too disturbing. Your dad probably looked at you boys and decided to leave the blood cults to folks who could deal better.”
Sam and Sarah exchanged uneasy glances across the table. If John Winchester had steered away from hunting blood cultists for his own mental well being, what did that have to say about Chloe's friend Mac and his family?
Oblivious to their wordless exchange, Chloe continued with her lecture.
“Blood magic seems to spring up wherever there's a mix of human blood and religion,” she said. “Somewhere along the way, demons get mixed up with the old-religion gods and before you know it, you have ordinary people doing the scary just for the sake of magic and power.
“Rumor has it that when Hitler was going nutty over the occult - chasing down the Spear of Destiny and the Holy Grail, he had a couple hundred blood mages helping him.”
Sarah shivered at Chloe's words. In response, Sam reached across the table and enveloped her tiny hand in his larger one. She looked up at him with a shaky smile.
“So I can't even begin to stress how much I want this hunt to be over with,” Chloe said.
“We understand, Chloe,” Sam said sympathetically. “What do you need from us?”
“Specifically, I thought an extra set of eyes could help me pin down which of the old religions we're dealing with. If we can figure out which religion they're basing their ritual on, then we can follow the pattern to figure out their next move.
“Given the area we're in, and the fact that the victims were carved up using an obsidian knife, I'm going to say that we're not going to be looking for Druidic wannabes trying to stuff someone into a wicker man.”
“Based on the files you sent us, we were thinking Mesoamerican,” Sam nodded at Sarah to pick up the thread of the conversation.
“That was my guess,” Chloe said. “But the problem is that there was so much cross-culture pollination. How do you know if you're dealing with Toltec, Mayan, Aztec or some blend of the cultures?”
“I'm thinking Aztec,” Sam said. “The murder of the children sounds like part of the ritual devotion to Tlaloc.”
“Tlaloc?” Chloe asked.
“The Aztec rain God.” Sam reached across the table and pulled a book out of the middle of Sarah's pile. “Or more accurately, the rain God of the Nahuatl-speaking people. But for the sake of simplicity, let's just call them Aztecs.”
“Simplicity is good,” Sarah chimed in.
“Agreed,” Chloe said. “Why children?”
“Lore states that he is served by small people. Sacrificing children invokes sympathetic magic. Did the children have their fingernails torn off?”
“They did,” Chloe's voice was subdued.
“That's consistent with the rituals,” Sam said with a melancholy sigh. “Sympathetic magic again. They make the children cry to encourage it to rain.”
The three of them grew silent as they contemplated the grim topic. Finally, with a fortifying gulp, Sam picked up the thread of the conversation.
“If that monstrosity was based on worship of Tlaloc, then the rest of the murders should fit in with the other rituals of the Aztec calendar.”
“How many rituals are we talking about here?” Sarah asked.
“Twenty,” Sam said. “One for each month of the religious cycle.”
“That's a lot of rituals,” Chloe said with a low whistle.
“Fortunately, the cycle is less bloody as it turns. We've just come through a turning. It could have been worse.” Sam flipped through the book until he found the passage he was looking for.
“The murder of those twins coincided with Tepeilhuitl, The Feast of Mountains,” he said. “The death of the college student would have been around the time of Tititl, The Stretching. And the murder of the children would have been part of Atlcualo, The Ceasing of Water.”
“What's the next ritual in the cycle?” Chloe asked.
“Ceremonies where they flay people and wear their skins,” Sam said. “And sacrifice by fight-to-the-death.”
Chloe sucked in a breath at that. “How long do we have?”
He looked at the ceiling while calculating the dates in his head. “The month started March 14th, and runs through April 2nd.”
“Less than a week,” she breathed. “I need to get this information to Mac.”
“Call us if you need anything else,” Sam said.
“Will do,” Chloe said. Then the line clicked dead.
Sam looked at Sarah over the expanse of table. Her eyes were as grim as he felt. “What are you thinking?” she asked him.
“I'm thinking that we ought to call Bobby and start looking for Mr. Mackenzie and his other son,” Sam said. “Because - if Dad decided that he shouldn't be hunting blood cults, then I'm not feeling good about the idea that this guy specialized in it.”
Sarah nodded in agreement.