Death in the Mountains
folder
Supernatural › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
7,243
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Supernatural › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
7,243
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Sight of Ashe Mountain
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; I am making no money off them.
I am trying to use authentic Appalachian dialect for some of the Wake County characters. If you don’t understand it, please let me know! Also, please give me some reviews! Sex in another chapter or two, but it will be a part of the overall storyline.
Nora Bonesteel sat in her rocker on her front porch. She was nigh on ninety these days, and it was getting hard for her to do her knitting by the electric lamp at night. It wasn’t a problem in the bright July sunlight. She had made a pitcher of lavender lemonade. Nora was expecting a visitor, someone she had not seen in a while.
Sure enough, about a half hour later a rough figure walked quietly out of the woods; not up the one road up to Ashe Mountain.
“Good afternoon, Rattler. Care for a glass of lemon aide?”
Rattler smiled, “That sound good, Nora.” Her hospitality was always good. Maybe she would offer him some supper as well.
Nora rose with a grace and strength that belied her years. Her hair was gilded with silver in a few places, but she looked nowhere near her eighty plus years.
“Come and sit a spell” Nora offered as Rattler dew closer. “You wouldn’t have come all the way up here unless you wanted to talk.”
Rattler only nodded and took a seat on the porch as Nora entered her home, carefully stepping over a line of salt spilled out in front of her door. Rattler frowned. She’d been a feelin’ it too.
A few moments later, they were sitting together on the porch, sipping their drinks. After about five minutes, Rattler asked “Had any visitors?”
Nora rocked for a few moments, not taking her eyes off her knitting. “Jane Arrowood came by to ask me to donate something for the church sale next week.” She raised her knitting to show a delicate shawl.
Rattler nodded after appearing to admire the shawl for a moment.
“Nothing or nobody else?” Rattler’s tanned and wrinkled face and deep brown eyes had an unusual look of stress in them.
“No.” Nora said. “That is a puzzle to me.”
“A puzzle to me, too, Nora. I don’t hold with talkin’ to dead folks, but you speak with ‘em sometimes. Seems mighty strange nobody has been up here a’talkin’ to you.”
Nora nodded. “You feelin’ something?” Rattler asked.
“Yes, some of the others with even a touch of the Sight are as well.” Nora paused for a few moments. “You had any visitors?”
Rattler blew out air. “Ravenmocker”.
Nora stopped knitting for a moment, a frown on her face. ‘You don’t hold with talking to dead people, but you’ll talk to Ravenmocker.” She shook her head and continued her knitting.
“Nora, Ravenmocker a’ come to the house. You know that kind never do. He said that some of those crazy New Age folks conjured up something by mistake.”
“The deaths?” Nora asked.
Rattler nodded. “Jane Arrowood talk to you about it, her son being sheriff and all?”
“No” Nora said. “Jane is mighty worried. Spencer seems shook up and wouldn’t tell her anything and he’s been sheriff of Wake County for nigh on 15 years now. He’s been thinking about calling in the TBI (Tennessee Bruera of Investigations). LeDonne thought that some of those young folks had something to do with it, but I set Jane right on that. They are different, but not bad. One of those girls’ family is from up this way, for all they moved to Knoxville. Spencer tries to pretend the Sight doesn’t exist, but if Jane has been up here and she tells him something, he listens. He trusts LeDonne, but Spencer thinks I’m right about this.”
Rattler nodded in agreement. “I hope he comes to see me soon. He listened to me when he was a child.”
“We can just wait and pray for the Lord’s help” the calmness in her voice didn’t sooth Rattler one bit. “Want a bite of supper before you leave?”
“Gatlinburg! Sam, this place is a tourist trap, not a nature retreat” Dean was exasperated. “We’re in a traffic jam in the middle of Hillbillyville!”
“Well, the map says that this is close to a national park. How could I have known that Dolly Parton turned it into Disneyland?”
“That laptop you carry around?” Sam gritted his teeth again. Dean was even more irritable than usual. He wished he would take some of the damned painkillers the ER doctor prescribed for his ribs. Still, after the Wendigo, it proved that they needed camping gear for some of their jobs. It’s not like the tent and sleeping bags would go to waste.
Out of exasperation at the bumper to bumper traffic and exhaust fumes, he pulled off into a water park parking lot and found a Tennessee state map in the glove box. “Look,” he said after a few seconds. “There’s a KOA up in Wake County. It’s just off the Appalachian Trail and is close to a town called Hamelin. Sounds good. Peace and quiet, a bed for you and electric for the phones and laptop. A town for shopping and restaurants and a place for you to heal up.”
“Whatever” Dean said, his head back and his eyes closed. “You’re driving.”
Sam didn’t say anything about how his eyes automatically snapped to that tiny mountain town. He wouldn’t admit, even to himself, that he felt a kind of nudge in that direction.
I am trying to use authentic Appalachian dialect for some of the Wake County characters. If you don’t understand it, please let me know! Also, please give me some reviews! Sex in another chapter or two, but it will be a part of the overall storyline.
Nora Bonesteel sat in her rocker on her front porch. She was nigh on ninety these days, and it was getting hard for her to do her knitting by the electric lamp at night. It wasn’t a problem in the bright July sunlight. She had made a pitcher of lavender lemonade. Nora was expecting a visitor, someone she had not seen in a while.
Sure enough, about a half hour later a rough figure walked quietly out of the woods; not up the one road up to Ashe Mountain.
“Good afternoon, Rattler. Care for a glass of lemon aide?”
Rattler smiled, “That sound good, Nora.” Her hospitality was always good. Maybe she would offer him some supper as well.
Nora rose with a grace and strength that belied her years. Her hair was gilded with silver in a few places, but she looked nowhere near her eighty plus years.
“Come and sit a spell” Nora offered as Rattler dew closer. “You wouldn’t have come all the way up here unless you wanted to talk.”
Rattler only nodded and took a seat on the porch as Nora entered her home, carefully stepping over a line of salt spilled out in front of her door. Rattler frowned. She’d been a feelin’ it too.
A few moments later, they were sitting together on the porch, sipping their drinks. After about five minutes, Rattler asked “Had any visitors?”
Nora rocked for a few moments, not taking her eyes off her knitting. “Jane Arrowood came by to ask me to donate something for the church sale next week.” She raised her knitting to show a delicate shawl.
Rattler nodded after appearing to admire the shawl for a moment.
“Nothing or nobody else?” Rattler’s tanned and wrinkled face and deep brown eyes had an unusual look of stress in them.
“No.” Nora said. “That is a puzzle to me.”
“A puzzle to me, too, Nora. I don’t hold with talkin’ to dead folks, but you speak with ‘em sometimes. Seems mighty strange nobody has been up here a’talkin’ to you.”
Nora nodded. “You feelin’ something?” Rattler asked.
“Yes, some of the others with even a touch of the Sight are as well.” Nora paused for a few moments. “You had any visitors?”
Rattler blew out air. “Ravenmocker”.
Nora stopped knitting for a moment, a frown on her face. ‘You don’t hold with talking to dead people, but you’ll talk to Ravenmocker.” She shook her head and continued her knitting.
“Nora, Ravenmocker a’ come to the house. You know that kind never do. He said that some of those crazy New Age folks conjured up something by mistake.”
“The deaths?” Nora asked.
Rattler nodded. “Jane Arrowood talk to you about it, her son being sheriff and all?”
“No” Nora said. “Jane is mighty worried. Spencer seems shook up and wouldn’t tell her anything and he’s been sheriff of Wake County for nigh on 15 years now. He’s been thinking about calling in the TBI (Tennessee Bruera of Investigations). LeDonne thought that some of those young folks had something to do with it, but I set Jane right on that. They are different, but not bad. One of those girls’ family is from up this way, for all they moved to Knoxville. Spencer tries to pretend the Sight doesn’t exist, but if Jane has been up here and she tells him something, he listens. He trusts LeDonne, but Spencer thinks I’m right about this.”
Rattler nodded in agreement. “I hope he comes to see me soon. He listened to me when he was a child.”
“We can just wait and pray for the Lord’s help” the calmness in her voice didn’t sooth Rattler one bit. “Want a bite of supper before you leave?”
“Gatlinburg! Sam, this place is a tourist trap, not a nature retreat” Dean was exasperated. “We’re in a traffic jam in the middle of Hillbillyville!”
“Well, the map says that this is close to a national park. How could I have known that Dolly Parton turned it into Disneyland?”
“That laptop you carry around?” Sam gritted his teeth again. Dean was even more irritable than usual. He wished he would take some of the damned painkillers the ER doctor prescribed for his ribs. Still, after the Wendigo, it proved that they needed camping gear for some of their jobs. It’s not like the tent and sleeping bags would go to waste.
Out of exasperation at the bumper to bumper traffic and exhaust fumes, he pulled off into a water park parking lot and found a Tennessee state map in the glove box. “Look,” he said after a few seconds. “There’s a KOA up in Wake County. It’s just off the Appalachian Trail and is close to a town called Hamelin. Sounds good. Peace and quiet, a bed for you and electric for the phones and laptop. A town for shopping and restaurants and a place for you to heal up.”
“Whatever” Dean said, his head back and his eyes closed. “You’re driving.”
Sam didn’t say anything about how his eyes automatically snapped to that tiny mountain town. He wouldn’t admit, even to himself, that he felt a kind of nudge in that direction.