~*****~
"There was definitely no demon here," I mention as we comb the house. "I mean, no sulfur, no demonic energy still lingering... What about EMF?" I question aloud.
"Yeah, it's going nuts when I went over here by the window." Sam answered. "There was definitely a spirit here."
"Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?" Dean asked.
"Looks like." Sam hummed.
"What the hell do you make of that?" Dean asks.
"Actually, I do have a theory. Uh, sort of." Sam answered.
"Well, lay it on me." I hum as I leap up onto the table, kicking my legs back and forth.
"Well, thinking about fairy tales." Sam answered.
"Oh, that's--" Dean started, sharing a confused expression with me. "That's nice. You think about Fairy Tales often?"
"No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders." Sam snapped. "A guy and a girl hiking through the woods. An old lady tries to eat them. That's Hansel and Gretel."
I gave a hum in response. "Oh, that's-- That's kinda smart actually. We got the three brothers arguing over how to build houses attacked by the Big Bad Wolf. Three Little Pigs."
"Exactly," Sam nodded.
"Actually, those guys were a little chubby," Dean retorted. "Well, wait, I thought all those things ended with everybody living happily ever after."
"Oh, god-- No, not the originals." I snort. "The Grimm Brothers' stuff was kind of like the folklore of it's day-- full of sex, violence, cannibalism. Then it got sanitized over the years, turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories."
"So, you think the murders are, what, a re-enactment?" Dean asks. "It's a little crazy."
I giggle. "Dean, take a look at our lives." I snort. "We see crazy every single day."
"Touché." Dean answered. "How's the creepy ghost girl involved?"
"She must've been here for a reason..." I hum thoughtfully. "I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site, too."
"We gotta do some research now, don't we?" Dean asked.
"You betcha." I smirk before tossing my jacket over my shoulders.
~*****~
The library had jack squat. "Every single record they had-- not a single thing. I mean, we checked everything with a violent childhood deaths for a town this size. It's pretty normal. You wanna know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"
"Zero," Sam answered.
"Zero!" Dean and I echoed. "Do you want to know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip, zilch, nada." Dean added. "Tell me you got something good, cause I've totally wasted the last six hours."
"Well, you ever hear of Lilian Bailey?" Sam asked. We shook our head. "She was a British medium from the 1930's."
"She got a thing for Fairy Tales?" I asked.
"No, trances." Sam answered. "See, she'd go into these unconscious states where, um-- get this-- her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."
"A ghost puppet master?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam answered.
"You think that's what this kid is doing?" I ask. "Sending wolf boy and grandma into trances? Making them go kill-crazy?"
"Could be. You know, kind of like a spirit hypnosis or something." Sam answered.
"Trances I get, but Fairy-Tale trances? That's bizarre, even for us." Dean answered.
We stopped at a large, fat frog sitting before us. "Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal." Sam answered.
"All right, maybe it is Fairy Tales-- totally messed-up Fairy Tales." Dean stated.
"I tell you one thing," I hum lightly. "There's no way I'm kissing a damn frog."
Sam snorted. "Hey, check that out." He hummed as he pointed towards a house.
"Well, it is close to Halloween." I answer.
"You remember Cinderella?" Sam asked. "The pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice that become horses."
"Dude, could you be more gay?" Dean inquired. I snorted and cleared my throat as I fought from the giggles burning in my throat. Dean immediately shook his head. "Don't answer that."
"Can we leave? That frog is giving me a weird look." I mutter in annoyance.
"You don't want your prince charming, Lottie?" Dean teased.
For the first time in a while, my stomach flips and I give him a sultry smirk. "No, I only accept Australian kisses from you, Dean." I retort before turning away from him.
"God, damn--" Dean growled before leaning over to grasp his knees as if I'd sucker punched him, leaving Sam to laugh at his misfortune.
I pulled out my lockpick and started digging into the lock while Sam and Dean followed up behind, keeping an eye out. The door swung open after a moment or two. "Who knows," I hum as we enter. "Maybe you'll find your Fairy Godmother." I mention.
Sam as less enthusiastic by Dean and I grinning widely at him. We stepped further into the house, looking around. A soft rattle caused me to stop in my tracks. We pulled out our guns and stepped further into the house, looking for the source of the rattle.
"Help--" A woman's voice cries out.
"Hey! Hi, it's okay, we're here. We got you." Sam urged as we found the woman handcuffed to the stove.
"You have to help me, she's a lunatic!" The woman gasped.
"What happened?" Dean asked.
"My stepmom-- she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me, chained me up." She whimpered as I dug into her handcuffs.
"Where is she now?" I question.
"Lottie, Sam," Dean urged as he gazed down the hallway. A little girl stood at the end, just gazing at us with her wide, blue eyes.
"Sam," I hum as I hand him my picks. I stood up and went after the little girl. She stood in another room, and she kept avoiding me. I entered the den, my gaze sliding everywhere until I turned around to face the little girl. "Who are you?" I ask in a soft tone. She disappeared in her spot, leaving a bright red apple in her spot. I knelt down and grasped it, turning it over thoughtfully.
~*****~
"The paramedics picked up Cinderella," Sam explained as he and Dean approached me.
"That's good." I hum as I keep gazing at the apple. "So," I hum as I toss Sam the apple. "Little girl, shiny red apple. That seems a hell of a lot like Snow White's story." I explain.
"Snow White, I saw that movie--oh, the porn version, anyways." Dean explained. "There was this wicked stepmother-- she was wicked."
"That discussion aside," I hum irritably. "There is a wicked stepmother," I hum. "And she tries to kill Snow White with a Poison Apple."
"But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?" Dean mentions.
I shake my head. "No, puts her into a deep sleep-- So deep, it's almost like she's dead." Sam explains as he tosses the apple back to me.
~*****~
The nurse came back with a soft expression. "No, sorry. We don't have any comatose little girls." She answered.
"You sure?" I ask.
"Totally." She nodded. "It's mostly old guys, and, well, Callie. But she's been around since before I started here."
"Callie?" I echo.
"Yeah. It's so sad. And poor Dr. Garrison-- he won't give up on her." The nurse explained.
"Was Callie one of his patients?" Sam asked.
"No, his daughter." The nurse answered.
I hummed lightly and nudged the boys to follow behind.