Running From Insanity

12. The Van Ness House

About twenty minutes later, we pulled into an abandoned house's driveway. This place looked like ghost central. Cracked windows, rusted metal, rotten wood. And there was no doubt that we were going inside. 

I was just glad that we were going during the day. At night, I would've probably left the brothers. 

We geared up—rock salt shotguns and flashlights—and entered the wretched house. Our flashlights flickered to life; I had to hit mine a few times before it actually did. 

"Honey, I'm home," Dean sang. He cut it out once he saw my—most likely—pale face. He pointed his sawed-off towards the stairs. "Alright, let's go." 

The Winchesters started moving but I felt a cold chill run up my spine. There were definitely ghosts here. With that thought in mind, I scurried after the brothers. The decor was still the same, drag red carpets coated in an inch thick of dust, spider webs across the walls. Spooky. 

"Annie?" Dean called when we entered another drag room. With no response, he brought out his cell phone. After a series of ten clicks, he held it to his ear. Sam brought an EMF reader from his jacket and flickered it to life. 

It immediately started buzzing. "There's a whole lot of something going on." 

That's what I thought, Sam, I thought since I couldn't form words. I jumped and squealed when a phone started to ring not so far away. We apparently had to follow the sound, so I stayed behind the brothers. The number was Dean's. 

"Oh, Annie," I whispered, pitty coated my words. Sam wrapped a protective arm around me causing me to tense up. 

Dean slowly bent down and scooped up her phone. I noticed his facial expression had gone hard. Like he had no soul. He shoved the phone into Sam's hand. 

"Work your magic." 

"Uh, well, t-there's some voicemails up her—"

Dean snatched back the phone and started listening while we walked out the room. Sam's ghost finder was still flashing and making that awful noise. I heard the faint beeping of Annie's phone and hearing Dean groan each time it beeped again. 

"Do you think he's gonna be alright?" I asked Sam, nudging his arm. His headed whipped from the EMF reader to my eyes. I awkwardly looked away. 

"Yeah, hopefully, he'll be, uh, he'll be okay," Sam answered, closing the EMF. He sighed. "Let's follow him before he hurts himself." He side-stepped around me and started to follow his brother. 

I murmured a quick 'yeah' and followed suit. We found Dean traveling up the stairs, now clicking her phone shut. 

"The call to me was the last one she made," Dean informed us, shoving the phone in his pocket. "So where the hell is she?" 

Denial, my mind told me. Just like you were about Alyssa.  

I shook my head to clear the thoughts. I was a human Etch-A-Scetch. My artists weren't able to get me to think those thoughts. I couldn't afford to think those thoughts. 

Dean, growing impatient, dug the phone out of his pocket and started listening again. I could hear the faint murmur of a woman on the other line, but I couldn't make out any words. I grabbed Sam's EMF just to make a distraction for the boys. And mostly for myself. 

"We're redlining all over the place," Sam stated, peering over my shoulder. For him, that wasn't very hard. "Assume the worst?" 

Dean sighed, his expression hard again. "Yeah, I always do." 

So, not denial? What is going on through your head, Dean Winchester? 

"Okay. Vengeful spirit, maybe lots of them," Sam started diagnosing our situation. "Killing kids. Look around."