The Statue of the Corpses

Chapter One

It was a chilly morning.

The air was crisp, and the sun looked dim and watery. The soil and grass was damp due to the morning dew. The birds proceeded to begin their morning melodies with their small quick chirps. The trees in the forest were unusually still and distant, despite the small autumn breeze.

The police were everywhere. Well, most of them were anyway.

A young-looking cop stayed by one of the police cars, biting on his nails nervously, his sandy hair bouncing slightly from the gentle wind. He was new at this, and he was scared to death. He had just seen with his own two eyes the dead body of a boy being pushed inside a gurney. Since he was new, he was utterly traumatized.

An older cop, the younger cop's mentor, with a grim face, greying hair, and mossy-green eyes, approached two young men who had just arrived at the murder scene.

"Can I help you two gentlemen?" he asked, his tone irritated and peevish.

Sam and Dean Winchester pulled out their fake FBI badges and revealed them to the cop.

"Agent Jefferson," Dean replied. "This is my partner, Agent O'Neil."

The older cop nodded. "Right. I'm Officer Riley," he introduced.

"So what's happening here?" Sam questioned, quickly glancing around to absorb his surroundings.

"It's an oddball," Officer Riley said. "A young man named Robby Evans fell down that cliff over there." He nodded towards a nearby cliff with a strange statue standing by it.

"What's so weird about that?" Dean asked.

"The young lady over there said that he was pushed even though they were the only ones there," Officer Riley sighed, glancing behind his shoulder to look at a panic-stricken girl standing beside the younger cop. "Robby was her boyfriend. She told me... some pretty weird things. I guess she's just traumatized."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances as Officer Riley left them behind and approached the younger cop. They faintly heard him say, "Will you make yourself useful, for God sakes! We have FBI agents over there!"

The younger cop's brown eyes widened when he spotted Sam and Dean in their FBI getup. Instinctively, he puffed up his chest to make himself look tough.

Dean nearly snickered, but Sam nudged him in the ribs to shut him up.

"Look, I think we should talk to the girl," he said quietly.

Dean didn't reply. He rose his hand and hit Sam on the head.

"Ow!" Sam glared. "What was that for?"

"For nudging me," Dean grinned. "Alright, come on."

Sam sent him a final glare, then followed him towards the trembling girl. She peered up at them, her minty-green eyes wide and screaming in terror. Sam knelt down in front of her.

"Look, I'm done answering questions," she said shakily. "I just want to go home. I can't face his family."

Not too far away from her, a middle-aged couple stood, answering the questions one of the cops asked them, their faces blank and stony. Mrs. Evans was utterly beautiful, her brown hair smooth and softer than silk, and her eyes a bright emerald-green. Mr. Evans was a handsome man with inky-black hair and ocean-blue eyes.

"I understand," Sam said gently. "We just have a few more questions for you about Robby."

The girl groaned, burying her face into her hands. "Let's get this over with," she mumbled, her tone muffled against her palms.

"Well," Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded to him. "We were told that you said Robby was pushed off the cliff."

"He was," the girl said coldly. "I saw it. I was there."

"We know," Dean said quietly. "But we also know that you said no one else was there except you and Robby."

She hesitated. "No," she muttered. "It... wasn't a person that pushed him."

Sam and Dean shared curious looks.

"What pushed him?" Sam asked.

The girl didn't respond. Instead, she looked past them, the look in her eyes morphing into one of horror and surprise. Sam and Dean followed her gaze.

She was staring at the statue. Now that they were really looking at it, it was a bizarre-looking sculpture. It was one of a boy with his hand above his eyes. Almost like he was looking for something.

"Or someone," Dean said under his breath, loud enough for only him and Sam to hear.

"Megan?" said a familiar voice behind them.

Sam and Dean spun back around. Officer Riley and the younger cop, whose tag was labelled Officer Fleming, now stood beside the girl. Officer Riley's hands were on her tense shoulders, but his eyes were on Sam and Dean.

"Can I ask what you're doing with my daughter?" he said acidly.

"Your daughter?" Dean's eyes widened.

"This is my daughter, Megan," Officer Riley informed them.

Everyone grew silent. Megan chewed on her lower lip, her eyes glued to the ground, and her curly hair covering her face. Officer Fleming still had his chest puffed out, but his eyes read that he felt awkward as well.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his spot. He stood back up from his kneeling position and cleared his throat.

"We were just asking her a few questions," he responded. "Actually, I think we have everything we need. We'll get going."

Officer Riley said nothing. Using that to his advantage and to avoid further tension and awkwardness, Sam grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him away.

"What d'you think?" Sam asked once they were by their black Impala. "Do you think it's...?"

"The statue?" Dean finished off, shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, Sammy..."

"It could be a spirit," Sam said. "Dean, we can't rule out that possibility."

"Guess not," Dean agreed. "Look, can we talk about this over breakfast? I'm starving."

Sam rolled his eyes, but he agreed. He climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala while Dean sat in the driver's seat.

"Alright, Baby," he said with a grin, speaking to the car itself. "Take us somewhere good."

"My God," Sam shook his head with another roll of his eyes as Dean drove away.