chapter three.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
1.1 || constance welch
Alternatively known as: Pilot.
⛤
❛ That Constance chick — what a bitch! ❜
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
"SO, UH, YOU HERE ALONE?"
Sammy wanted to break the ice. The tension between his brother and Annie ( Anisha! ) had been so uncomfortable and thick that he could cut it with a knife.
"Nah, Naya's with me." Annie walked up to the steps of the public library, her brown '67 Camaro parked alongside the Winchesters' Impala. "She's probably up there flirting with someone older than her."
"Isn't she too little for this?" Dean asked, walking behind Sammy and Annie ( hey, that rhymes! ) and alongside Ophelia.
"She's almost 17. 'sides, it was Ma who sent her with me." Annie then looked at Ophelia. "And you're one to talk."
"Bobby was on a hunt!"
"How'd you know about this hunt anyway?" Sam asked. They were on the first floor, where, as predicted, the infamous Inaya ( but she's always preferred Naya! ) was leaning very close to a girl who sat on one of the many long tables, a fat book opened in front of her. "We were just following dad's crumbs."
"Dean called Ma. She got concerned."
"Yeah, well, I was just asking her if she'd heard from Dad." Dean shrugged, taking a seat in front of the many computers. "I didn't expect her to send her daughters."
"You call a woman after 2 years and tell her that her dead best friend's husband has been M.I.A. for a little too long and expect her to stay calm?"
"I, uh, definitely didn't expect her to send her kids on my trail." the older boy started typing as many strings of words he could think of, that could be related to that Constance woman. Annie dragged herself over to her very busy and supposedly too young for this job, sister.
And Ophelia? She wanted to know why girls were called chicks.
Perched in front of one of the many computer screens, she typed, 'Why are girls called chicks?'
Meanwhile, Dean and Sam were side to side on two stools that unfortunately happened to have wheels on them, because they kept rolling the stools from one place to another, fighting to be in front of the computer's bright screen.
When Dean kept popping in various keywords, none of which got any results, Sam got agitated and pushed him over, making the older brother let out, "You're such a control freak!"
Sam rolled his eyes and started talking to himself, "So angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?"
"Yeah. . ."
"Well, maybe it's not murder."
The boy replaced the word ' murder ' in the search bar with 'suicide '.
A single article named ' Suicide on Centennial ', dated April 25, 1981, popped up. It read:
A local woman's death was ruled a suicide, the County Sherriff's department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leaped off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and consequently drowned to death.
Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for [several] minutes. She reported that their complex-[...]
What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."
At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager.
"Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."
"This was 1981," Sam concluded after reading through the article. "Constance Welch, 24. . ."
Ophelia jumped to her feet when her brothers called out for her, trying to remember all that the article had said. A bounce in her step, she clutched her backpack with one hand while she wagged a finger, reciting off, "The term "chick" originated from the comparison of women to birds, particularly young birds, in medieval poetry and literature. This association was meant to convey beauty and delicacy. The perception of "chick" as derogatory or offensive depends on the context in which it is used. For example, if used in a sexualized or objectifying manner, it can be seen as disrespectful. However, when used among women or in a friendly, non-sexualized context, it may not be perceived as offensive."
Dean blinked twice, eyebrows shooting up, while Sam chortled, "Do you have photographic memory or something, Ophelia?"
"You could say that." she shrugged indifferently, hopping away to catch up with Annie.
After scarfing down two burgers and a banana milkshake, Ophelia sat in the backseat of the beloved Impala, Mr. Snuggles clutched tight to her chest — because Sam had her stop playing on the Nintendo in the dark, and she needed something to occupy her hands before she tore her nails out.
She let out a shriek as Dean stopped the car abruptly, scooting forward to slap the back of his head. He let out a groan, rubbing the spot where she hit him, "Do all the women in my life think I have a hittable face?"
"First off, that word's used, almost always, in sports. And secondly, yes."
And with that, Ophelia scooted out of the car, leaving Mr. Snuggles and her backpack inside. She pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, looking over the railing as her brothers did the same,
"So this is where Constance took the swan dive."
"You're absurdly kind to a spirit whose highly capable of killing you in the span of seconds."
"I keep forgetting that this is your first hunt," Sam remarked ruffling her hair — something she did not take very kindly to. He then turned to Dean, "So you think Dad would've been here."
Sam ignored Ophelia's mumbling, something along the lines of, "I hope Connie's caught up to him.", listening to Dean, "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."
"Okay, so now what?"
"We behave like sane citizens of society and go back home and sleep?" Ophelia asked hopefully, rubbing her eyes.
"Well, not yet." Dean shrugged, walking away from the railing, "We keep digging until we find him. Might take a while."
"Should've stayed back with Annie," Ophelia grumbled, shoving her hands in her pocket as she followed behind them both.
"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by—"
"—Monday, right, the interview." Dean tilted his head as he looked at Sam. "Yeah, I forgot."
Ophelia kicked the gravel as awkward silence descended upon them, until Dean opened his mouth again, "You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"
Sam frowned, squaring his shoulders defensively, "Sure, maybe. Why not?"
"Does Jessica know the truth about you? About the things you've done?"
A slight rumble caught Ophelia's attention, causing her to look towards the source of the sound — the Impala. But nothing moved, so maybe it was her imagination?
She flinched when she heard the thud of Dean pushing Sam into the iron pillar, across from where she was standing, his head banging on it painfully. She sucked in a sharp breath as the rumble of the car engine turned louder and she realized that it wasn't, in fact, her imagination.
"Dean! The car's making weird noises."
Dean shook his head, gulping as he released Sam and looked towards Ophelia — tugging at her sleeves and picking at the lint on her Power Rangers sweater, "What weird noises, Phea?"
Just then, Dean and Sam saw Constance (or the ghost of Constance?) standing on the bridge's railing, just behind Ophelia, looking right towards the boys.
"Kid, don't move." Dean approached cautiously, and just as he took his third step, Constance let herself off of the bridge, jumping down into the river.
The boys now darted towards the railing, Ophelia following after them as she too, peered down.
"What was it?" her back being towards Constance, she hadn't seen the ghost. Sam squeezed her shoulder, "It was Constance. Where'd she go?"
"I don't know."
The car gave a rumble again, a louder one, as the headlights went on. Ophelia's widened almost comically, her lips forming a pout as she looked up at Dean, "Those weird noises, by the way."
"What the—" before Dean could say 'a bad word', Ophelia punched his forearm, making him roll his eyes.
"Who's driving your car?"
Dean didn't reply. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the car keys, dangling the off of his forefinger.
The Impala gave a lurch. And then, just like that, it started speeding towards them, full throttle, while the Winchesters made a beeline for somewhere — anywhere — away from the haunted car.
Dean held Ophelia forearm while Sam ran ahead, pulling her along as they jumped over the railing, and—
Splash! Cold water suffocated her as she flailed around helplessly, her sweater weighing her down. Her eyes squeezed shut, hands clutching Dean's jacket as he pulled her out of the water, laying down on the cold ground.
Covered in the stinking, smelly, river mud.
"Are you alright?"
"Super."
A whole fifteen minutes later, Ophelia found herself back on the bridge, covered in slime and mud, Sam's jacket over her shivering form — way larger than the one Dean gave her.
Warmer, too.
"Car's alright?" Sam asked, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, leaning against the side of the Impala.
"Yeah." Dean slammed the bonnet shut and turned around, screaming into the night, "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"
Ophelia stood beside him, kicking his shin, "You owe me an ice cream, now."
"Tomorrow, when I'm not covered in God knows what."
It was quiet for a moment, before Sam let out a quiet chuckle, "You guys smell like a toilet."
And that was Ophelia's cue to start cackling.
"ONE ROOM, PLEASE."
Ophelia was surprised that Dean knew of the word, 'please'. The receptionist, however, seemed distracted. He picked up the card Dean had thrown on the table, a frown on his face, "You guys having a reunion or something?"
"What do you mean?"
"That other guy, Burt Aframian. He came in and brought out a room for the whole month."
Sam and Dean shared a look, Ophelia leaning on the taller brother, half asleep.
Ten minutes later, Ophelia was leaning against the wall, half asleep, again, while Dean stood on lookout in case anyone noticed Sam picking the lock of the room their dad had rented.
Sam managed to get the room open, the door creaked as he he pushed it open. Dean, however, didn't get the clue, so Sam had to pull him in by the collar, the older Winchester doing the same with Ophelia.
"Phea? That you?"
Soon enough, Inaya stood outside their (their dad's) room, pursing her lips so as to not burst out laughing at Ophelia and Dean's state.
Ophelia gave a tired wave while Dean rolled his eyes, waving her off. He walked into the room, looking out for clues, Sam following soon after.
"C'mon, kiddo, lets get you a shower, yeah?"
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro