It turned out the ghost we were dealing with was a spectre. According to Bobby's journal, a spectre was an avenging ghost that possesses people and finds out whatever betrayals you're feeling and forces you to act on them. The last time Bobby encountered one, it rose after a grave was desecrated. When Garth did some more research, a grave had been desecrated three days earlier, but there was one issue.
"The unknown soldier?" Dean hissed. "You're kidding me, right?"
"Mary Lew steamrolled her husband the day after this place was vandalized," Garth said. "Do the math."
"But I thought the unknown soldier was buried in Arlington," Sam pointed out.
"Yep, but this is the Confederate tomb of the unknown soldier. See, the idea was, they took a faceless, nameless soldier they couldn't identify, and they buried him here to commemorate all the soldiers who died."
"Did you learn that in college?" Dean asked sarcastically.
"Nope- Civil War re-enactments. Once a year, every year. Don't hate."
"Okay, uh, what about the guard?" I asked, nodding toward the uniformed guard outside the tomb.
"Uh, he's ceremonial," Garth replied. "Gone by dusk."
"So, then we do this tonight?"
"Yeah."
"Burn a Confederate soldier's bones in a town full of rednecks?" Sam nodded. "Sure."
⁘
"Place doesn't look disturbed to me," I said as we entered the tomb after dark hours later. "What's the police report say?"
"Uh, they think it was just some kids messing around," Garth replied. "They, uh- they found some beer cans, some graffiti. Oh, and the casket was open when they got here, but they closed that back up."
"Yeah, but not before Casper had the chance to make a run for it," Dean quipped and I rolled my eyes, hitting him upside the head.
He glared at me and I smirked back innocently.
"So, what?" Sam asked, giving Dean and I a look. "If they never touched this, none of this would be happening?"
"Yeah, according to Bobby."
"Alright, let's get this party started."
While the boys got in position to push the heavy stone lid of the casket aside, I picked up a circle of thin cord off the ground.
"Eleanor, move."
I rolled my eyes, but complied with Dean's request, stepping aside so I wouldn't get hit by the lid. Once it was out of the way, we could see the skeleton inside which was wearing a uniform and had a sword and gun with it.
"Whoa. Check out this hardware," Garth said, impressed. "Do you guys know how much this is worth?"
"Yeah, buy why open it up if you're not going to take anything?" I asked.
"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "Maybe the cops showed up and they had to split fast."
"You sure this will work, even on a spectre?" Garth inquired.
"It's a ghost, isn't it? You burn its bones, the ghost disappears."
Sam poured lighter fluid into the casket and Dean took out a pack of matches, preparing to set the remains on fire.
"Alright."
"Alright. Alright," Garth repeated. "Alright. Uh, I kind of feel like we should say something, alright? Don't you? Just... a little..."
He looked at Sam, Dean and I and we all exchanged a look before Dean nodded.
"Sure. We won."
He struck the match, dropping it into the casket.
⁘
We were at the sheriff's office standing around his bloodstained desk. Deputy Doug Wallace had shot him.
"Ten bones says Deputy Doug had an axe to grind with his boss," Dean said.
"What makes you so sure?" Garth queried.
In response, Dean pointed to green goo on the sheriff's tape dispenser.
"Aw, what the hell?" Garth groaned.
"Maybe we torched the wrong redneck," I suggested.
"Or maybe not," Sam cut in. "Maybe an object was removed from the grave, something the spectre's attaching itself to."
"Like Bobby's flask?" Dean asked.
"Um, I don't know guys," Garth shook his head. "You saw what I saw. Those kids didn't take anything."
"Or they did," Sam insisted.
"And this spectre hitched a ride with it," I added.
"And whoever has the object gets posessed," Dean finished.
"Okay. So who's got the object, and, more importantly, who do they have a grudge against?"
We talked to Deputy Wallace, and he said after he shot the sheriff, one of the other deputies had tackled him before grabbing the gun and heading off to the hospital. Dean told Garth and Sam to find out what they could about the unknown soldier while he and I headed to the hospital. We got there just in time to see the deputy try and open fire at a doctor by the reception desk.
"Looks like you're shooting blanks," I said.
The deputy spun around to look at Dean and I. Dean grabbed the rifle and punched him.
"Hey, that tickled," the deputy said.
He punched Dean back, sending him heavily to the floor. Then he grabbed me and threw me into the reception desk. Turning back to Dean, he dragged him back to his feet, holding him by the throat.
"Karl, listen, I know the spectre's turning up the temperature in there," Dean said. "So just tell us what the object is, and we'll send this joker home."
I struggled to my feet, breathing heavily from having the wind knocked out of me. Karl was smirking at Dean.
"I don't think so," he replied. "There's unfinished business, thanks to you."
I grimaced as he sniffed Dean.
"Oh, the spectre likes you."
"Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell him to come on out here and we'll make promise bracelets."
I ducked to the ground as Karl threw Dean over the desk, then jumped back up again.
"Come on, Karl. This isn't you. It's the spectre," I said.
"Oh, I know," Karl growled, blocking me as I tried to attack him. "It likes you more than that friend of yours."
I yelped as he grabbed my arm, forcing me to my knees with his inhuman strength. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and took out a penny with a hole in the middle of it.
"Here, have a taste."
As soon as the penny was in my hand, my mind went completely blank. The only thing getting through was the feeling of white hot rage. Karl collapsed to the ground, seeming to be slightly stunned as I rose to my feet. Slowly, I pivoted on my heel to face Dean, who had stood up behind the desk.
"Easy there, Eleanor," he said, looking worried. "How about you give me that penny so we can get rid of it, and then we can talk?"
I pulled my gun out, pointing it at his head.
"You shouldn't have picked Benny over me."