( DOLLHOUSE )

PIERPONT INN
[ ☾]

      A slow wind blows, creaking in an ancient sign that reads "Pierpont Inn, Est. 1930". Pan down to a beautiful mansion/hotel and the large van pulling up in front of it.

      A large, friendly man follows a young woman, Susan, down the dim hallway inside and up a set of stairs. "Most of the stuff is up here." She says.

      "I still can't believe you're closing this house. You know my parents got engaged here? My grandparents, too." The Man says.

      "Yeah, a lot of people did." Susan reaches the top of the stairs. "The boxes are at the end of the hall. Need any help?"

      "Oh, no ma'am, I've got it." He says.

      Two little girls — Tyler and Maggie — in old-fashioned schoolgirl outfits are sitting in the railing that overlooks the entryway. "He's gonna take our toys?" Tyler asks.

      "Only the ones you don't play with anymore. It's not like you don't have enough already." Susan says.

      "Son of a bitch." Maggie says softly.

      "Son of a bitch." Tyler repeats.

      Susan turns to Tyler. "Watch your mouth!" She says.

      "Maggie said it first!" Tyler yells.

      Susan looks like she's suffering. "Watch your mouth too, Maggie."

PLAYROOM
[ ☾]

      Tyler goes into a large room filled with rather creepy-ass dolls and a large dollhouse - an exact replica of the hotel. She begins placing dolls into their beds. "Good night, Tabitha." She looks over, confused, when a doll isn't where she had just placed it.

      She leans over and sees it lying on the floor of the dollhouse, body facedown but head twisted up. She picks it up slowly. Below, her mother screams.

      "Oh god. Yes, yes, are you there? Oh, you have to send someone right now, right now!" Susan babbles. "I don't know, he,"

      On the floor at her feet is the Man, lying in a pool of blood and contorted like the doll. As Tyler comes to the railing, Susan sees her and gasps. "Tyler, don't look! Don't look!"

      She continues babbling into the phone as Tyler looks down calmly; the man's eyes are staring, his mouth still pulsing in a horrifying gape.

PEORIA, ILLINOIS

MOTEL ROOM
[ ☼ ]

      Blues music plays on the radio as we pan over the motel room walls; they are covered in maps, hand-written notes, and a missing poster showing Ava's face. The whole scene is eerily reminiscent of John's middle-of-a-hunt wallpaper.

      "Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen." Sam says and hangs up.

      Dean enters."What'd she have to say?" He asks.

      "Oh, she's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I can think of — federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just...into thin air, you know?" Sam says.

      "Huh." Dean hands over two of the three cups of coffee he's carrying to Sam and then to Elena who was sitting in the bed.

      "What about you?" Sam asks his brother.

      "No, same as before. Sorry, man." Dean says regretfully.

      "Ellen did have one thing." Sam says.

      "Hmm?"

      "A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut, two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam says.

      Dean raises his eyebrows. "Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?"

      "It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know?" Sam says. "Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

      "You did?" Elena asks and Sam turns to her.

      "Yeah. You seem surprised." Sam says.

      "Well yeah, it's just, you know. not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean jumps in.

      Sam starts to mildly challenge. "What was is that?"

      "I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and," Dean starts and Sam gives him a look. "yeah, I'll shut up now."

      "Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can." Sam says.

      Dean looks surprised. "Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." He says as Sam ducks his head and laughs. "All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it."

PIERPONT INN
[ ☼ ]

      It's not raining, but the roads are wet and the air misty as Sam, Elena and Dean park the Impala in front of the inn. Dean gets out of the driver's side. "Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean says.

      "Like what?" Elena asks.

      "Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways, sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." Dean says and begins closing his eyes briefly. "Mmm. Daphne. Love her."

      As they go up the steps, Sam notices an urn on the side of the porch. He inspects it more closely. "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem." He says.

      "What do you mean?" Elena asks.

      "You see this pattern here?" Sam taps a five-point symbol engraved in the urn and Elena bends down to look at it. "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot."

      "Five-spot." Dean says.

      "Yeah."

      "That's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?" Sam asks.

      "Right, yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies." Sam says.

      Dean pretends to look around. "Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, whitemeat for hoodoo?" He asks.

      "Maybe."

      As they enter, looking around at the quiet interior, Susan enters briskly. "May I help you?" She asks. Elena walks up to the desk and smiles.

      "Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights." She says.

      As Sam moves in, Tyler darts in front of his legs, chased by Maggie, who runs behind him. "Hey!" Susan yells, then looks at Elena and Sam apologetically. "Sorry about that."

      "No problem." Elena says.

      "Well, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." Susan says.

      "Well. Sounds vaguely ominous." Dean says.

      "No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month." Susan says then gets awfully excited. "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?"

      Dean is sharing a "why not?" look with Sam and Elena. "How'd you know?" He says.

      "Oh, you just look the type." Susan says while Dean looks vaguely uncomfortable.

      Elena places her hands in the desk. "Do you mind if I can get a room alone? These two can't stay away from each other." She whispers behind her hands.

      "It's alright. I put you next to their room." Susan says and hands Elena a key.

      Elena smiles and turns to Dean and Sam. "You boys have fun." She waves and leaves to her room.

      "So, uh, king-sized bed?" Susan asks once Elena is out of earshot.

      "What? No, uh, no, we're, we're...two singles, we're just brothers." Sam corrects.

      Susan laughs awkwardly. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just...your friend said—"

      "Of course she did." Dean mumbles and looks up. "So, what'd you mean that we look the type?"

      Sam decides to change the subject. "You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" He asks Susan.

      "Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever." Susan says and hands Dean a key. "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov."

      "Thanks." Dean says.

      Susan rings the bell. "You'll be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen to their rooms?"

      As she says this, Dean turns to see an old, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind him. "Let me guess. Antiquers?" Sherwin asks and drags Dean's clunking duffel bag behind him, up the steps, as the brothers follow.

      "I could give you a hand with that bag." Dean says.

      "I got it." Sherwin says.

      "Okay."

      "So the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asks.

      Sherwin nods. "Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame." He says.

      "Oh yeah?" Sam asks.

      "It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it." Sherwin says. "Here's your room." He slips the key in the lock and opens the door, handing the key to Sam as he brushes past.

      Dean turns to shut the door and Sherwin is standing there, hand extended expectantly. "You're not gonna cheap on me, are you, boy?" Sherwin asks and Dean looks annoyed as he pulls out his wallet.

      Later, Elena pops in the room as Sam is sifting through papers, and Dean is pacing. "Oh my gosh, you guys gotta try the shower. It's like a sauna!" She says, hair still wet.

      "You're such a girl." Dean chuckles as he approaches what appears to be an antique wedding dress displayed on a wall like a ghost. "What the —"

      Elena closes the door behind her. "What?" She asks.

      "That's normal. Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long." Dean says.

      "All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill." Sam says.

      "Well, there's a connection, they're both tied up in shutting the place down." Dean says.

      "Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back." Sam suggests.

      "Who do you think our witch Doctor is, that Susan lady?" Dean asks.

      Elena shakes her head as she also paces. "No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling." She says.

      "So what then, Sherwin?" Dean asks.

      "I don't know." Sam says.

      "Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?" Dean asks.

      Elena puts her hands on her narrow hips and inspects the brother. "Well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating. And Sam is tall, but has a baby face. You watch porn, you should know."

      Dean forces a laugh. "Right."

HALLWAY
[ ☾]

      Sam, Elena and Dean poke around the hallways, Sam sees another urn and picks it up. It too, has a quincunx inscribed. "Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo." They approach a door marked "PRIVATE" and Dean knocks. Susan opens the door.

      "Hi there." Dean says.

      "Hi. Everything okay with your room? " Susan asks.

      Dean and Sam begin talking over each other. "Yeah, yeah, everything's great." They say in unison.

      "Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing." Susan says.

      "Hey!" Dean yells while looking past her. "Are those antique dolls? Because this one, this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha? Huh?"

      He pats Sam in the shoulder. Sam shoots Dean a look and smiles. "Big time." Sam says.

      "Big time." Dean repeats. "You think he could come — or we could come in and take a look?"

      "I don't know." Susan starts.

      "Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's, he's always dressing 'em up in these little outfits and, um, you'd make his day. You — she would, huh? Huh?" Dean asks, smiling to himself.

      Sam smiles awkwardly: "It's true." He says.

      "Okay. Come on in." Susan says and opens the door.

      "All right. All right!" Dean slaps Sam on the back and follows him in; Sam shoots him a death glare. "Wow. This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all."

      "Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value." Susan says.

      Elena looks at the replica house that we saw in the beginning. "What is this? The hotel?" She asks.

      "Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built." Susan says.

      Sam comes over and leans down to picks up the broken doll from earlier. He frowns. "His head got twisted around. What happened to it?" He asks.

      "Tyler, probably." Susan says.

      Tyler runs in. "Mommy! Maggie's being mean." She says.

      "Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?" Susan asks.

      "Hey Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?" Sam asks.

      "I didn't break it. I found it like that."

      "Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it." Sam offers.

      "No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em." Tyler says.

      "Tyler, she wouldn't get mad." Susan cuts in.

      "Grandma?" Elena asks.

      "Grandma Rose, these were all her toys."

      "Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?" Elena asks.

      "Up in her room." Tyler says.

      Sam's expression changes. "You know, I'd, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll —"

      "No." Susan says suddenly. "I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."