𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 > 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 {𝟏}

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈

Dean asked, "Anybody I.D. the corpse?"

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. So the cops were saying the kids were yanking their chains."

"Maybe the cops are right."

Karina turned to Dean, "When are they ever right?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, agreeing with Karina's opinion. Sam continued on, "Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere."

"Wait, Sam, how did you get those accounts?"

Sam got a little embarrassed and began hesitating with his words, "Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, last night, I surfed some local paranormal websites. And I found one."

Karina tried so hard to not smirk or smile at all at what Sam told her. Dean asked him to save her time, "And what's it called?"

Sam chuckled, "Hellhoundslair.com."

Karina laughed, while Dean scoffed, "Let me guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement."

Sam grinned, "Yeah, probably."

"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter."

"Look, we let Dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way, and we don't know where the hell he is. So meantime, we got to find ourselves to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out."

Karina smiled, "I agree!"

"All right. So, where do you find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."

"We're going to Rodeo Drive, aren't we?"

Sam nodded, and Karina rolled her eyes. She began reading from where she left off in her book.

***

After the Rodeo Drive, the kids answered the trio questions with complicated answers. Different answers between all three of them. But finally, they got similar to how they were there in the first place. Their friend, Craig, guided them to the house.

After the information they told them where Craig would be, they entered the music shop. The shop was filled with record albums, musical instruments, CDs, and some posters on the walls. There was a small guy, carrying a box, seeing them entering the shop.

"Guys, help you with anything?"

Karina smiled, "Hi, are you Craig Thurston?"

"I am."

"Oh. Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Karina."

"No way. Yeah, I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

Dean was checking on the record albums in front of him, "Well, good for you, Morrisey."

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it, you might know about one."

"You mean the Hell House?"

"That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story."

Karina asked, "Why don't you tell us a story?"

Craig sighed and began telling the story to the trio. As he walked around the shop, and they all followed him along, "Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the depression, that his crops were failing, and he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end."