He walked the line of the property, pacing, and waiting. Where were the players? He absentmindedly pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket. He could sense two already, but where were his favorite two, plus the tagalong. He squinted at the trees, trying to see beyond them to center stage.
The screaming had started, followed by battle cries of ghosts long dead. Serves them right, he thought tearing off a piece of chocolate. Destroying a prairie all for a retreat for rich bastards, like them. They didn't know how rich this land would become. They didn't know the families that owned the land and have lived off of it for centuries.
All those people wanted was someplace to get away from the world, and spend money like it was going out of style. He really hated humans sometimes.
In the distance, the Trickster could see fire spouting up and eating the dry prairie grasses. He could hear the screams getting louder. He grinned as he threw the candy wrapper on the ground and stepped forward to watch the show.
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There were times when she hated her life, her roommate, her roommate's hobby, and her need to help with said hobby. This was one of those times.
Rai grabbed hold of the panicking man, his eyes wide as he stared at the undead Indian in front of him holding a war club.
"Move your ass!" She yelled as she pushed him towards the edge of the property.
The man didn't need telling twice, and he ran as fast as his feet could carry him in his fancy leather shoes. Leaving the young lady to deal with the spirit, imagine that.
Turning on her heel, Rai narrowly dodged the club. “Jaimie!" She called, as she dodged again. Where was her crowbar?
"Almost there!" Her roommate yelled through the hazy smoke. The fire had started as soon as the spirits had appeared, and they had lost sight of each other as Jaimie had run towards the burial mound, and Rai tried to get all the investors to safety.
Rai nodded before the war club smashed into her right shoulder. The woman yelped, already feeling the muscle and bone going crack and go numb.
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"Rai?" A voice yelled through the flames. The redhead really couldn't see her partner in crime, but she could hear her pained yelped.
"Rai!" She called again, but no answer. She held her breath, holding the wet handkerchief to her face, before retying the knot behind her head. Rai was okay. The nerd could take care of herself…She hoped.
She made her way to the burial mound holding a sawed off shotgun full of salt rounds. Looking around, she shot at the two angry looking spirits in front of her. They disappeared.
Running forward, the redhead dropped into the open whole on top of the mound. The woman landed on her feet.
She pulled the handkerchief down around her neck, and pulled out a flashlight. The inside lit up, it was dark, damp, and smelled of earth, fire, and decay.
Sighing, she wished herself luck and moved deeper into the mound.
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Black spots danced in front of her eyes. Rai cursed her low pain tolerance, and the dizziness that followed.
Gunshots sounded in the distance. "Hey are you okay?" Somebody had gripped her upper arm. Their huge warm hand was encircling her jelly like appendage, and making it spasm in pain. She opened her eyes. When had she closed them?
"I'm good." Rai slurred, her eyes watering from the smoke and pain. She let him help her to her feet, wincing. Her shoulder was killing her, and Rai was sure that she shouldn't move it anytime soon.
"Is there anybody else here?" He held her face in her hands and looked into her eyes. She still felt like she was going to pass out. Black spots seemed to multiply.
The young woman felt her eyes slip close. "H-Hey," The man stuttered, and patted her checks rather roughly, almost like a slap. Rough calloused hands slid down to her forearms and gripped them tightly. It sent painful shivers up her spine, keeping her awake a moment longer, before she succumbed to unconsciousness.
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Sam Winchester hated women…Not that he didn't have a healthy (unlike Dean) appreciation for them. He just hated the fact that they always, always ended up injured, killed, or the damsel-in-distress.
He sighed before setting the young woman down on the ground. He really needed to find Dean. His eyes watered slightly as the smoke blew their way. The fire had started a long while ago, and surprisingly had yet to spread from it’s original spot.
It just acted like a smoke machine. A giant deadly smoke machine, but a smoke machine just the same.
Sam really didn't want to leave the brunette alone, but Dean most likely needed his help. Even through his brother's a big boy, Sam couldn't help but try and help him every chance he got. Not to mention Dean had a special knack of acting before thinking.
The Winchester sighed and checked her pulse, steady and strong. She was going to survive, with mental scars of course. Sam, being the gentle giant he is, hated when civilians would get caught up in the qualms of souls since pasted. Sadly, there was nothing he could do except try his best to save them and help the pitiful souls pass.
Sam stood up, and looking to make sure none of the spirits were coming towards them. For some odd reason they had all seemed to disappear. With a quick look at the petite girl on the ground he ran off.
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Dean Winchester held his hand out to the redhead. She raised a blonde brow before pulling herself out of the hole.
"Thanks." She said with a wink. "Now if you excuse me, I've got a friend to find."
"Dean!" Right on cue, Dean thought with a smirk.
"Up here Sammy!" He yelled, watching as his moose of a brother climb the mound.
"Dean, where were you?" Sam asked.
"Helping a friend," He replied nodding towards the redheaded hunter, who studied Sam with an amused look on her face.
"So, everything is taken care of then?" The taller Winchester asked.
"I think so, no one seems to be here.” The two brothers shared a look as the older of them looked confused. Dean pulled Sam to the side, whispering to him the sudden disappearance of all spirits.
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The Trickster was sad that the game ended so early. He frowned as he chewed on piece of chocolate. He didn't get to see Sam in action, only administer some crappy first aid to the brunette girl.
He crouched down as he checked the girl. Gently digging his fingers into her shoulder checking for damage, it was broken.
His frown deepened. He really didn't want his players to get hurt. That would put them out of the game for too long, and the next round was coming up much too quickly.
The Trickster took another bigger bit of chocolate. He really wanted to heal her, but she would remember the club hit. Then they would know that somebody healed her, and all fingers would turn to him.
And he really didn't want them to figure out his game out quickly, but he really didn't want this player out of the game so soon either. Leaning down he changed the broken shoulder so a dislocated one, easy fix and she’d recover quickly.
"Rai!"
Gabriel growled under his breath. Then with a quick swoop of wings he was gone from sight, back to watching from a distance.
Sam’s POV
I stood facing Dean and the unknown redhead while the smoke cleared, wondering why she was acting so calm about everything.
I faced the girl and held out my hand, “I’m Sam, you are?” She smiled and grabbed my hand, shaking it lightly, “Jaimie, Jaimie Grace Singer.”
My eyes widened and I looked at Dean, he seemed surprised as well. “Hi Jaimie, do you know what caused this forest fire?” Dean asked her smoothly. She grinned and looked at the two of us, “Yes, I do know. The question is, do you?”
I looked at Dean and we shared a quick look of confusion. “Well as lovely as this conversation is, I have to find my friend. Don’t worry, there’s no threat here anymore, I took care of it.” The girl then gave us both a smile and ran off towards the edge of the property. And if I remembered correctly, in the direction of the unconscious brunette.
Once she disappeared over the first mound I turned to Dean, “What happened to the spirits?!”
He looked over at me confused. “I have no idea where they went, I was chasing one then it was just gone, next thing I know I see that girl trying to climb out of the hole.”
