Hell's Most Wanted

Many thanks to Zab who whipped this chapter into shape!

Dean woke up when something soft smacked him in the face.



"Wake up man, it's already noon." Sam said as he whacked Dean in the face again before going back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.



"God Sammy why do you have to do that? It's so annoying." Dean grumbled as he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.



"At least you don't have to wake up to someone snoring like a messed up chain saw." Sam retaliated from the bathroom.



"Come on, you know I don't snore." Dean said pulling on the same jeans he had worn yesterday. Man they needed to go to the laundromat like ASAP.



"That's like saying there's no such thing as monsters." Sam laughed.



"I do not snore! Don't you think any of the women I've been with would have told me if I did?"



"How could they tell you when you sneak off right after they fall asleep?"



"Whatever man, let's get some breakfast, we need some fuel if we're gonna tango with Eugene Levitt's ghost." Dean said as the two men left the motel and headed toward the Impala. Dean noticed the lights were on in the room next to theirs.



They ate at the same place they had eaten at for the three days they had been in Macken. Linda's was a tiny hole in the wall where the food was cheap, but so greasy you could get a heart attack just from looking at it.



Sam ordered scrambled eggs with a side of whole wheat toast, and a bowl of mixed fruit, which turned out to be just melon. Dean ordered the lumberjack special, which was bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, pancakes, and grits.



"So how are we gonna find where they planted old Eugene Levitt?" Dean said as he poured copious amounts of maple syrup on his pancakes.



"Well he's sure not in the church cemetery. I looked through all their records and his name was removed from their registers. Literally scratched out." Sam replied.



"Wow, wonder what he did to deserve that." Dean said around a mouthful of sausage.



Sam cringed at the site of half-masticated pork rolling around his brother's mouth, "The historical society probably has that information, or the library, we should go to both.



Dean rolled his eyes, he hated sitting for hours in places that smelled like mouldy paper. "Great, more research."



A tall, busty, brunette walked in the diner and caught Dean's attention. Man they sure know how to grow 'em down south, he thought. Dean wondered if it was something in the water. The brunette seated herself in the booth right across from theirs like she owned the place.



"Hey! Are you listening to me?" Sam interrupted Dean's daydream about throwing the brunette over the table and fucking her from behind in front of all these people.



"What?" Dean said, his mind coming back to reality.



Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes, he had a pretty good idea of what had distracted Dean. "I've been saying how it would be faster if we split up. I'll go to the library, and you head to the historical society."



The boys finished up breakfast, settled their tab, and hit the road.



"Call me if you find anything." Dean said when he pulled over in front of the library and Sam got out.



"Have fun at the historical society." Sam said sarcastically.



"Yeah...right." Dean replied as he took off.



Two hours later....



Dean could barely hold his eyes open. He had been going through books, ledgers, maps, and other assorted papers for what seemed like an eternity, and he still hadn't found any mention of Eugene Levitt.



The crypt-like silence was broken suddenly when his cell started ringing. Dean looked up and saw the ancient old lady who worked there glaring at him so he quickly ducked out the back door.



"Please tell me you got something Sammy."



"I found a newspaper article that says Eugene Levitt hung himself from a tree in his front yard. But when I asked the librarian about it she showed me this diary written by Levitt's wife. She writes about how she discovered her husband was responsible for raping several local women. Then she told the chief of police, whose wife was one of the rape victims. That night the chief and a bunch of his deputies broke into Levitt's house, dragged him outside, and hung him from the tree."



"That explains why Levitt's ghost is attacking women." Dean said as he half-ran to his car.



"Yeah. Women who look almost exactly like the picture of his wife I found."



"He's pissed his wife ratted him out. Did you find where they planted him?" Dean turned the key in the ignition and the Impala's engine roared to life. It was one of the best sounds in the world.



"The diary says the church refused to bury him in their cemetery because the official story was that he killed himself. So his wife had him cremated and scattered the ashes around the tree they had hung him from."



"So what the hell is his ghost tied to? A cursed object?"



"I think it's the tree itself. His ashes must have soaked into the tree's root system, and become a part of it."



Dean spotted Sammy in front of the library with his cell glued to his ear.



"We have to salt and burn a tree?" Dean asked, still talking into the phone, even as Sammy got in the car.



"Looks like it."



The boys waited until nightfall before going over to Levitt's old house. Armed with axes (wouldn't want to wake the neighbors with chain saws) and shotguns loaded with rock salt rounds, they got out of the car and walked over to the only tree standing in the front yard. It's branches were gnarled, its growth stunted, and the bark seemed black in the moonlight.



"Let's get this over with." Sam said. He swung his axe back and at the exact moment it sliced into the tree, a sound exploded from inside the abandoned house, ringing out through the quiet night.



"You kill the tree, I'll hold him off." Dean shouted as he threw down his axe and ran toward the house.



Dean kicked in the door and leapt over its splintered remains. The house was pitch black but he could hear banging and smashing sounds coming from the back. Dean ran towards the noise and found the brunette girl from the diner in the kitchen being thrown from wall to wall by an invisible force.