Something was wrong.
This was a feeling that had been percolating in the back of Shane's mind for a while, but once the time for the solo investigations arrived, it seemed to increase tenfold.
Especially when, while Ryan was in room 1031, Shane felt the air settle into a familiar chill and watched his breath turn to steam. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and suddenly, the seemingly ordinary but dilapidated room door felt like a flimsy barrier between the crew and something bad.
Shane had no idea what this 'bad' thing was, or why he felt so certain that this unknown and non-concrete concept existed in the first place. A part of him simply knew, and it was enough to make him physically nervous, no matter how much he tried to ignore this random feeling.
The concrete knowledge that Ryan was on the other side of that door only exacerbated his worry. He'd heard the spirit box's familiar, annoying static a couple of minutes ago and what sounded like whispering, but after that, Ryan had been strangely quiet. Shane considered the possibility that maybe his friend was just bored in there due to nothing happening, but Ryan's skittish behaviour throughout the investigation poked holes in and sunk that theory. Every room in the place had only served to set Ryan more and more on edge, and there was no way that the supposedly 'scariest' room was so much of a let down that it counteracted all of that.
The room door then opened and Shane felt a sense of relief mixed with dread, although he didn't quite understand why he was experiencing such an oxymoron of a combination. After all, he still hadn't come to any kind of conclusion about what this mysterious 'bad' thing was, so what did he have to fear the presence of or feel relief at the absence of?
Ryan exited then the room and said a couple of words to Mark. He seemed... fine. And yet, Shane was unable to get rid of the feeling that something was off with his friend. He couldn't place exactly what it was at that moment, but there was definitely something about Ryan that was different from when he walked into that room.
"So, how was it? Meet a ghost in there?" Shane asked after walking closer.
Ryan didn't answer. He seemed preoccupied with the camera, so much so that he appeared to have not heard Shane.
"Ryan?"
Still no answer.
Shane reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Ryan?" He tried again for the third time.
Ryan looked up this time, rather abruptly, as if he'd been startled.
"You okay?" Shane asked cautiously.
Ryan's demeanour changed instantly, at once becoming far less stiff than he had been just a moment before.
"Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought," he finally answered. "Did you say something?"
"Yeah, I just asked if you saw a ghost in there," Shane said, feeling less tense now that Ryan seemed back down on Earth but continuing to keep his guard up.
"Not another one no. I'm kind of disappointed, but I also think I would've had a heart attack after seeing two in one night," he replied with a nervous laugh. "But who knows, maybe they're saving the all-star demons for your turn in there."
"Every 'demon' we've ever tried to talk to has done literally nothing to me, so that would be a nice surprise." The joke felt hollow when Shane said it.
"You're still taking the holy water, right?"
"If it makes you feel better, but I'm still not using it."
"We did say for any reason," Ryan pointed out. "So even if you kill a bug or something, I'm counting that as you losing the bet."
"To be honest, the only person I'm thinking of shooting this thing at is you," Shane joked.
For a moment, Shane thought he saw something change in Ryan's eyes, but it was there and gone before he could try to fully understand what it was. All he could tell was that something had changed in an instant, like when Ryan had gone from stiff and disconnected back to normal a minute before.
"That'll still count," Ryan said with a smile. "So, you're going to have to tolerate my midnight rambling unless you want to lose."
"I don't know, that seems like a hard decision. I might have to think on that," Shane joked.
This conversational return to the status quo only lasted so long, as soon afterwards, it was Shane's turn in the room. He felt a great reluctance to enter, the kind of reluctance he usually only felt when there were bats or an abundance of filth inside.
When Shane entered, he thankfully found that this room contained neither of those things, and yet the feeling still persisted regardless, which was odd. Sure, the furniture was a bit gross, the lamp looked like a bit of a fire hazard, and the publication dates of the books on the shelves probably didn't reach the twentieth century, but this was all manageable. Not the most comfortable place to be, but not exactly scary either.
The door shut behind him, and Shane prepared for ten minutes of silence interspersed with him yelling at nothing.
"Hi there!" He called in a chipper tone. "My name's Shane. How's it going?"
Unsurprisingly, there was no answer.
"You know, it's a bit rude to just ignore people like that."
The silence of the room remained unchanged, and none of the furniture started to float or fall over. Shane did, however, feel the chill in the air seem to somehow creep closer to him, like the embodiment of cold itself was pressing its icy claws onto the skin of his hands and face. Shane shivered and began moving his hands to try and warm them up, deducing that the draft that seemed to permeate the hotel must be coming from this room somehow. This was strange, considering there were no windows.
"Do people just lose manners in the afterlife? Like, I get that demons are supposed to be rude, so if you're a demon and you don't answer I can understand that. But ghosts were people. You guys grew up in society with other people, but now that you're dead you just don't want to make polite conversation, apparently."
The light in the lamp flickered out of the blue, the timing of this occurrence making it seem as though it was somehow a response to Shane's ramble.
"Ooh, was that someone? Can you do it again?"
Like all of his questions thus far, that one was rhetorical, as Shane never expected any kind of response. The lamp, however, did indeed flicker again.
"Huh. Well, thanks for responding," Shane joked. "Okay, are we going to do one blink for yes, two blinks for no?"
The lamp flickered once.
"Alright. Are you a demon?"
It flickered twice.
"Ghost?"
Once.
Shane had to admit, these were the most consistent results involving light they'd ever gotten.
"Ryan told me some bad stuff allegedly happened in this room. Cult stuff. Is that true?"
One flicker.
"He also said that the devil is here because of that. Is that one true too?"
It flickered twice.
"Well, nice to know we don't have Satan here," Shane said with a laugh.
He wasn't entirely sure how the light was doing this, so he decided to wait about a minute to see if the light would flicker on its own. Maybe it was just coincidence.
The light did not flicker once for that whole minute.
Shane's next guess was that someone was somehow messing with it, but he'd have to wait until he left the room to ask the crew about it.
"Did you talk to Ryan when he was in here?" Shane asked.
One flicker.
Shane frowned. Ryan said he didn't see anything in here, but he felt like Ryan would have been freaking out about the lights flickering.
"Did you use the light?"
Two flickers. So, that's a no.
"Did he see you?" Shane asked, feeling like this was a good method by which to determine if someone was just messing with him. He wanted to see if the response would match what Ryan told him.
It flickered once.
So, the light was telling him that Ryan had seen a ghost (or rather, an alleged ghost). And yet Ryan had stated that he'd seen nothing. That wasn't adding up.
"It was a good effort, but Ryan already said he didn't see anything in here, and the little guy would have lost his mind if he had. Who's messing with the lights, by the way? Is there a hidden switch or something? Do you guys have a hidden camera in here, too?"
There was no response, and the light did not flicker at all.
"Ryan, if this is you trying to get me to lose the holy water bet, it's not working. It was a good try, I'll give you that, but you should keep your story consistent."
The light did not flicker this time. It merely went out altogether, plunging the room into darkness.
Shane felt disoriented for a moment, as the room was now pitch black and he hadn't expected for it to get dark like that.
"Hello?" He called out, though he wasn't sure why or who he was even talking to.
"There is ancient blood in you," came a voice from right behind him.
Shane jumped and instinctively turned around, which didn't help anything because that side of the room was just as incredibly dark.
"There is the psychic gift in your friend."
The voice was behind him again, and Shane knew there was no point in turning around.
"That's why he has hidden himself within the psychic's gift."
"He? Who's he-"
"He cannot touch your blood."
"...okay?"
"He wears a psychic's mask, but you can look through it. Watch yourself tonight. He knows two more are coming."
It was Shane's turn to be silent now. He had no idea what was going on, what any of this was or what it meant. Was it even real?
"I'm sorry."
Then the light came back on again.
Shane looked around the room, but he was still alone. Nothing had been moved or changed, as far as he could tell. It was just like it was before the light went out.
Shane cautiously walked over to the light in question, wondering if he'd find something. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, other than the fact that it looked quite old. Old enough that a remote being able to turn it on and off seemed unlikely, but it could still easily be a made-over prop of some kind.
He gave up on investigating it and turned around. He had a feeling his time was either up or close to it, and he didn't want to stay in this room any longer. He honestly wanted to forget any of that happened because he still wasn't sure what to make of it, and he sure as hell didn't want to talk about it until he was.
When he turned around, however, there was a face. Staring at him. The kind of face from horror movies and weird band posters, but real and in front of him and therefore it was far more terrifying. It wasn't human, and it was looking right at him as he stood there frozen, like it was going to kill-
"Shane?"
Shane blinked, and there was nothing strange there anymore.
Just Ryan's face, which was exactly where the haunting face had been just a second ago.
Which meant that Ryan was standing right where the... whatever it was had just been standing.
"Your ten minutes are up. You okay?" Ryan asked, looking at him in befuddlement.
Shane sighed in relief. "Yeah, I'm fine. The light in here was being weird and I thought I saw something."
"Are you telling me Shane Madej is actually claiming to have seen a ghost?" Ryan said jovially.
"No no no, don't twist my words!" Shane laughed. "I said I thought I saw something. I think it was just a weird shadow from this weird lamp."
"Right. Sure," Ryan replied, stretching out the words in sarcasm. "It was totally 'just a shadow.'"
"You'll see what I mean in the footage later," Shane replied with joking confidence.
"Yeah, and I'll prove to you it was a ghost."
They went on like that again as they left the infamous room, and as the crew then left for the night, and as they set up sleeping bags in one of the emptier rooms to attempt to get some rest. The investigation went on like that, full of things that Ryan swore were supernatural, things that Shane would try and convince him were just shadows. The night went on like that, full of laughter and jokes and murmurs of ghosts between the two of them.
The night went on, but the words Shane had heard in that room remained with him.
The night went on, but the image of some horrifying face that had shifted into Ryan's was still burned in his memory.
The night went on, and somehow, even though he was lying just a foot away, Shane inexplicably felt like Ryan was stuck somewhere else.
~~~~~~
Shane didn't know what time it was when he woke up, or how long he'd been asleep.
The only thing he knew instantly was that Ryan, physically, wasn't there. The sleeping bag next to Shane's was empty.
Shane glanced at the time. 11:40. This was a pretty early investigation for them, and although Shane had only slept for about twenty minutes, it still felt strange to actually be able to fall asleep on site before three in the morning.
"Ryan?" He called out.
No response.
Shane was used to silence in old buildings, but this silence, at that moment, was unsettling.
He got up, grabbing his phone and one of the flashlights, opting to use the latter to cut through the darkness since it provided more light than his phone's flashlight would. One scan of the room told Shane that Ryan wasn't in there anymore, and he had no clue where his friend had gone.
This wasn't like him. He never slept at these kinds of places, but he never went wandering around the building by himself. And if he did get up, he'd normally wake Shane to alert him of a noise that sounded vaguely like footsteps or something similar.
Another look at Ryan's sleeping bag told him that Ryan had also left his holy water pistol behind.
Weird.
Shane grabbed the pistol, started towards the door and opened it, shining the light down both sides of the hall and finding no one in sight. He did, to his surprise and confusion, smell sulfur. Had there been some kind of gas leak that caused Ryan to leave? That didn't seem likely. He wouldn't just leave Shane alone in the building if there was a problem like that.
Shane went down the left side of the hall first, cautiously opening the doors, but Ryan was nowhere to be found in any of them. All of the lights were off, and no one was inside.
This changed when Shane got to the last room, the one the furthest away from the main entrance of the building. He'd resolved to check outside after this, but the sight of all the lights being on in this room changed that plan.
Ryan had to have been in here.
"Ryan? Are you in here?" Shane said, stepping inside.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Ryan was also not inside this room. It was another one of the emptier ones, with only a large carpet in the centre and a chair off to the side.
Shane walked over to the middle and looked for any signs that Ryan had been there but found nothing other than the fact that the lights had been turned on by someone.
He was about to give up and turned back towards the door, where Shane suddenly found Ryan standing. There was a flicker of that creepy face over top of Ryan's again, and it made Shane jump.
"Jesus dude, you scared me," he said with a nervous laugh.
Ryan said nothing. His expression was deadpan.
"I woke up and you weren't in the room, so I thought I'd check on you," Shane explained as Ryan walked towards him. Even though it was his friend, Shane felt the need to start backing away, as if he was some threatening stranger.
"Well, I'm sure Ryan would've appreciated that," Ryan said. The door swung shut with a loud bang behind him, even though no one had been there to close it.
Shane was scared now. The night had been weird so far, but this definitely took the cake.
He kept backing away as Ryan tried to walk towards him, moving in the direction of the wall.
Then something strange happened. Shane was still several feet away from said wall, but then Ryan waved his hand and Shane felt himself be harshly pushed into it, the force of the impact winding him temporarily. He dropped everything he'd been holding and heard it all clatter to the wooden floor.
Ryan had stopped walking, and Shane tried to move away from the wall, but found that he couldn't. His whole body was pinned against it by something unseen.
"Sorry, I just didn't want to be chasing you while we had this conversation."
"What... conversation? Ryan, what the fuck is going on?"
"Oh, come on," he said. "I know you know the truth. I know you saw my true face."
Ryan's eyes turned black.
"I'm not Ryan, and you know it."
Internally, Shane was screaming, because he absolutely could not process that. Externally, he was silent, because he had no idea how to respond to that. He was terrified, but his vocal cords were not interested in conveying that whatsoever, so he just stood there in shock.
"You're pretty lucky, you know," the thing that was not Ryan said, beginning to casually pace as he talked. "I don't normally reveal myself. It's more fun to pretend I'm someone I'm not when the other one dies. The looks on their faces..."
He let out a laugh that was distinctly not human, and Shane shuddered.
"It's priceless. They never know it's me. They think it's just whoever they came here with snapping, going berserk. They die not knowing the truth."
Shane struggled against whatever invisible restraints were holding him, but nothing seemed to budge. His limbs were stuck up against the wall, with the only thing he could move being his neck and head.
"But you're a bit different. You see, I knew right away you had some grace in you."
"Grace?" Shane questioned. Maybe if he kept not-Ryan talking he could buy some time to do... something. Anything other than wait like a sitting duck.
The thing that was not Ryan grinned, and the horrifying face from earlier came back for another moment before disappearing.
"Angel's grace. You had no way of knowing, of course. The nephilim would have been high enough in your family tree that you wouldn't even notice the grace. You could have gone your whole life without knowing it was there, but then you decided to come here. And it decided to do its job, like a little alarm system."
The thing that was not Ryan had stopped pacing and was simply walking, walking off the rug. With another hand wave, it flew across the room, revealing some kind of weird circle with runes underneath.
Revealing a knife that sat in the middle.
"You see, angels and demons, we don't get along. And we can see past whatever host we've picked and get a look at another's true form which helps when you've got a bone to pick withsomeone. You've got just enough grace in you to see glimpses of my true face, even with your friend here acting as my gracious host."
Shane felt his heart sink.
He wears a psychic's mask, but you can look through it.
He'd been able to see that Ryan was possessed this whole time, but because he hadn't known what any of that meant, he'd been unable to do anything about it.
"You stole his body?" Shane asked, venom in his voice. He tried to struggle to move again, but his efforts produced no more than they had the last time.
"I prefer the term 'borrowed.' I'm borrowing it for the time being. I'm not hanging around like this forever, and I'll leave this suit once its heart can't beat on its own anymore, if you get what I mean. I could keep going on like this afterwards, but the ritual won't work unless I split at the end."
"Listen," Shane said as he continued to struggle, "I don't know who you are, but you need to leave Ryan the fuck alone."
"Ah, that's right," it said with another laugh as it walked back towards the centre of the room. Towards the knife. "I never introduced myself! How rude of me. Though from what you said earlier, you don't seem to mind rude demons as much as rude ghosts."
Shane's heart started to beat even faster as it said those words, realizing it had to have been watching him.
"I have many names, but you can call me..." the thing that was not Ryan paused, looking lost in though, before grinning. "Ricky Goldsworth."
It howled with laughter, that unnatural sound from earlier once more ringing through Shane's ears.
But this meant something. If the demon (and Shane was still coming to terms with that) knew about that name, it meant he could see inside Ryan's head while he was there. That must have been how he was able to impersonate Ryan fairly well for... however long Ryan had been possessed.
Ryan was still in there somewhere. Maybe Shane could reach him.
"Ryan!" He yelled. "Ryan, please. Snap out of it, wake up, whatever!"
Ricky continued to laugh, though it was now more of a low chuckle, one that sounded like a growl.
"Nice try, but I've had plenty of experience with possessing people. Ryan can't hear you. I've made sure of it."
Ricky reached down and picked up the knife, looking at it with sickening fascination. Shane struggled even more frantically against the invisible restraints, but he still couldn't move at all.
"And he's not the one you should be worried about right now," Ricky continued, turning his gaze back towards Shane.
"Ryan, I know you're in there somewhere. Please, please stop him. Please."
Shane continued like that, growing more and more terrified, voice growing more and more fearful as Ricky continued towards him.
Just when he thought it was the end, the door suddenly fell to the floor with a heavy thud and splintering crack as someone kicked it down.
The man looked familiar somehow, though Shane couldn't place why. He would've spent more time thinking about it, but his life was in serious danger and this new guy had a gun, so those felt like bigger priorities.
Ricky was right in front of him at that point and the sound of the door falling had made him stop moving. His true face flickered into view again, with a smile so horrifying it could hardly be called a smile at all.
"Dean Winchester," Ricky said without turning around. The name was another thing that seemed familiar to Shane, but he couldn't place that either. And again, he really didn't care to at that moment.
"Always nice to know I'm famous," the man named Dean replied, cautiously moving into the room without ever taking the gun off Ricky. Off Ryan.
Ricky finally turned to face Dean, bringing the knife up to Shane's throat. The feeling of the sharp metal against his skin caused Shane to hold his breath out of fear. He was worried if he moved too much it would cut straight through him.
"Careful," Ricky said to Dean. "Another step and we'll have a body on our hands."
"Like you haven't already killed that one," Dean said, and Shane realized he was talking about Ryan. He thought Ryan was already dead.
"He's still-" Shane managed to get out before Ricky put more pressure on the knife, causing Shane to fall silent.
"Oh, but you aren't sure of that, are you?" Ricky taunted, still talking to Dean. "Aren't hunters supposed to save people? Could you really say you did your job if you shot someone just because it was easier? Because word on the street is that you don't have the Colt anymore, so those are probably Devil's Trap bullets. And sure, those will trap me, but they won't kill me. They'll just kill Ryan here. And even if you somehow find a less lethal spot to hit, I can use this knife just as fast as you can shoot."
Dean said nothing but didn't change his gun's aim. Shane could only hope this guy wouldn't shoot. He wanted his friend to come out of this alive.
"Where's your brother, by the way?" Ricky said, changing the subject.
"Mars," Dean replied dryly.
Ricky chuckled again, that inhuman sound still not as bad as his cackle. "I'm so happy your famous sense of humour holds up in person. But here's what I think..."
Ricky stepped away from Shane slightly and, in an instant and with the wave of a hand, knocked the gun out of Dean's grasp. Dean then reached into his pocket and pulled out some kind of weird silver blade as a replacement, which Ricky eyed carefully while pointing the knife back at Shane as a reminder.
"I think Sam's out there in that hallway. I think he's got holy water. And I think you just switched your plan to exorcise instead of kill, so you're bluffing with that angel blade," Ricky continued.
"What do you want, a medal, Sherlock?"
"For such a simple discovery? Spare me."
Then chaos erupted. Ricky stepped away from Shane again to get closer to Dean and seemed to make a psychic attempt to knock the blade out of Dean's hands. Dean's arm moved, but his grip held. So, Ricky opted to just move all of Dean within striking distance using the telekinetic powers he apparently possessed. Dean didn't have enough time to dodge the punch that Ricky threw his way and fist connected with face, causing Dean to go down, though Shane felt it wouldn't be for long.
In all that commotion, another man had crept into the room, slightly taller and with longer hair. He looked familiar in the same way that Dean did.
The new guy, who Shane assumed was the brother named Sam they had mentioned, threw liquid from a bottle across Ricky, who let out an unholy scream as steam came off of his skin.
Shane hoped Ryan couldn't feel that.
Sam pulled out a knife, looking like he was going to rush Ricky, but he never did.
"Sammy, I know you of all people aren't going to kill me," Ricky spat, still clearly in pain.
Sam started muttering something in Latin, which made Ricky start to scream again. He was apparently not a fan of all this pain, throwing a punch a Sam to get him to stop. Sam dodged, but his concentration faltered for just an instant, and it was long enough for Ricky to send him flying into the opposite wall.
Shane watched as Dean got back up and fought Ricky, who seemed to have some inhuman strength, and as Sam picked himself up again. Shane felt like the demon was just toying with them, and like he had to do something and do it fast if he wanted them all to get out of this.
The holy water pistol Shane had been carrying when he first entered the room lay on the floor in Shane's peripherals. If he could hit Ricky with that, it might give these guys the chance to finish whatever it was they were doing before.
Unfortunately, there was a big flaw with that plan: Shane still couldn't move.
The fight continued in front of him, with Ricky never seeming to take a hit, only dealing the couple ones he could land. The two men were trying not to kill him, and it was slowing them down.
Shane made one last attempt to struggle, a million different thoughts running through his head and adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tried to break free, mentally pleading for it to work.
And then a miracle happened.
Some kind of invisible force, this one more like a miniature sonic boom, swept through the room, and Shane could feel it starting from him. It broke the other force that was holding him and knocked everyone else in the room over, freeing him and giving him the chance to carry out what he'd planned.
Shane didn't stop to question what had happened. He just grabbed the pistol, moved a little closer, and shot.
Ricky screamed in pain as more steam rose, briefly incapacitating him on the floor.
The other two men wasted no time getting up, and Sam continued the Latin verse he'd started before. Now it was Ricky who seemed to struggle against some invisible force, and Shane started to feel like they were winning.
Then Ricky shot his leg out at Sam, who was standing just an inch too close, and kicked him in the shin. It made Sam stop talking for just a moment, but Shane knew it would be enough for Ricky to get the upper hand. He pointed the water pistol to fire again, but just as he shot, Ricky opened his mouth and a torrent of black smoke shot out, releasing one last horrifying scream along with it.
The cloud of smoke exited in a blur, passing through the door frame and down the hall, but Shane couldn't see where it went afterwards.
Ryan's body went still as he lay unconscious on the floor. Or rather, Shane hoped he was just unconscious.
All his strength seemed to leave him in an instant and Shane felt his knees buckles. He sank to the floor, breathing heavily, and shaking.
"The hell is in that?" Dean asked him, gesturing to the water pistol in Shane's hand. Sam had moved over to Ryan and was checking his pulse.
"Holy water," Shane said after he'd managed to catch his breath. "It was holy water."
Dean gave him a confused but slightly impressed look.
"And what was that blast? Did you do that?"
Shane was about to tell him that he had no idea how to answer either of those questions, but both him and Dean were then distracted by Ryan groaning and sitting up.
Sam backed up a bit to give him space. Ryan's eyes were still closed, and he held a hand to his head. Shane wasn't exactly surprised that he had a headache after all of that.
When he did open his eyes, there was a look of disorientation and fear in them, but at least they were back to normal. He looked around at the two newcomers and at the state of the room, but didn't comment on any of them. Instead, he simply mused to himself.
"Well that sucked."