Maddison Winchester: Journal 4 {Supernatural}

7 It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester: Part 1

On top of that, the barrel they used was wooden and had no connection to any source of electricity that could cause the water to heat up the way it did. Plus, after they asked her about Luke Wallace, Tracy said she had no idea who he was.

However, Sam had found a hex bag between the couch cushions, which meant the victims were somehow connected.

Back at the motel, Sam and I sat on each bed while researching, and Dean sat at the table on the computer.

Dean sighed loudly and shook his head. "I'm telling you, both these vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe 'cause it's not about that."

"Wow, insightful." Dean scoffed.

"Is there any chance that maybe Luke and Jenny were involved, and Mrs. Wallace found out? It would make him super creepy, but maybe?" I shrugged.

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, I don't know. Maybe this witch isn't working a grudge, maybe they're working a spell. Check this out." He read from the book in front of him, "'Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest.' Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st." He stood up and handed Dean the book.

"Halloween," Dean and I said in unison.

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "Uh, if I'm right, this witch is summoning a demon and not just any demon... Samhain."

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, that can't be good."

Dean looked at both of us, confused. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Samhain is basically like the king of Halloween, he's why it even started," I explained.

Sam nodded. "The Celts believe that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night."

I nodded. "Yeah, people wore masks to hide from him, they left sweets on their doorsteps to keep him happy, they even carved faces into pumpkins to worship him."

Dean furrowed his brow. "How do you know all this?"

I shrugged. "I read when I'm bored."

Sam smirked. "Yeah, but he was exorcised centuries ago."

"So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes."

"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dean, this is serious," Sam said with a straight face.

Dean nodded. "I am serious."

"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years," Sam explained.

"And the six-hundred-year marker rolls around...?" Dean asked.

"Tomorrow night," Sam said.

"Naturally." Dean scoffed and looked down at the book in front of him, which showed a demon standing on a pile of bodies with a head in his hand. "Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."

Sam nodded. "That's because he likes company. Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own."

"Raising what, exactly?" Dean asked.