Something in the Dark

Agowilt~ Unnecessary Fear

"It came in the night.

Somehow, I don't know how, it opened the window. I swear it was locked from the inside. But it came in, and it snatched her. It pulled Violet out from the bed and... and pulled her right out the window. She was screaming and kicking and..." Twelve-year-old Casey Hendrickson wiped her eyes again, sniffing gently. Standing in her living room, in front of the two FBI agents, Smith and Wesson, in her pyjamas being questioned the day after her best friend's death was a) not fun, and b) not high up on her priority list. The police and reporters and countless others had already interrogated her last night, the night it happened, and had leeched every last possible detail out of her. Needless to say, Casey was exhausted.

"We understand this is hard for you, but we just need to ask a few more questions," Agent Wesson, the taller of the two, stood up from his seat on the couch. Smith, the other agent, nodded and took a breath, as if going to speak.

"Look, this is going to sound crazy, but, uh, did you smell anything weird? Like sulfur?"

"No."

"Did you get a good look at the...person?"

"No, it was dark and I could barely see Violet."

"Alright, I think we have all the information we need. We'll get in touch if we need anything. And here's our card, incase you need to talk to us," Wesson nodded to his partner, holding out a card for Casey to take, which she did. Then, without another word, they left. Casey watched from the window, confused at the questions that the 'FBI' had asked.

---------------------------------------------

"Alright Sammy, what're we dealing with," Dean Winchester walked into the motel with several sheets of paper stacked under his arm.

"A Yūrei," Sam looked up briefly from his laptop, "It's a Japanese ghost. Although there are eight possible kinds it can be."

"Great, so our ghost could be any of them..."

"Yeah but there is a certain kind it might be, an Onryō. It's a vengeful Japanese spirit believed capable of causing harm in the world of the living, harming or killing enemies, or even causing natural disasters to exact vengeance or to redress the wrongs it received while alive then takes their spirits from their dying or dead bodies," Sam ran his hand through his hair with a sigh.

"What?" Dean looked at his younger brother, whose face was ridden with confusion.

"I just don't get it Dean, why would it go after a little girl?" Sam took the beer that was offered and opened it.

"Maybe little Violet wasn't quite so innocent," Dean suggested, sitting down across from his little brother, "Maybe we need to call on our friend Casey again, she seems to know a lot about the victim." Sam nodded his agreement and stood up, putting his coat on and taking his laptop with him as they got into the Impala and drove back to Casey's.

The drive wasn't far, and when they pulled up outside her house, Dean had filled Sam in on what was on the papers. Sam wasn't surprised when Dean told him it was death records. They walked up the path to the house and rang the doorbell. Not ten seconds later, Casey opened the door. Her crimson hair, which had been hanging down her back an hour ago, had been braided back. Her pyjamas had been swapped for jeans and an AC⚡DC shirt.

"Agents?" She smiled a little, "What are you doing back here?"

"Casey, do you mind if we come in? We just need to ask a few more questions," Sam asked. She nodded and stepped aside to let them in.