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crossing_lostrpWho: Dean and Sam Winchester
Where: About 2 miles SouthEast of Medical Facility, doing a perimeter check
When: Day 20, afternoon
Invited: Anyone that hears the radio
Status: Complete
Dean and Sam left with Jon and May to do a full perimeter sweep. Dean and Sam were covering the south and east quadrant in a roughly two mile radius from the base. The brothers had agreed to start at the outer edge of their quadrant and work their way in to meet in the middle. It was mostly boring long work, but both were glad to have the perimeter checked and verified that, at least for now, nothing was there. The brothers found nothing during their sweep except the occasional strange sounding bird and large arthropod. After several hours, they found each other and began to head towards the base.
"I'm tellin' ya, Sam. You really need to let Jessie go." It was a conversation they'd had before, and probably would have again.
Sam's mouth became a thin line. "It's not that easy for me, Dean. I'm not like you."
That hurt Dean, but he never let it show. Yeah, sure, he liked women, liked when they didn't invade his life too much, either, but Sam tended to forget about Cassie.
Sam stopped and peered into the jungle. "Dean, what's that?" Dean stopped and followed Sam's gaze. (Is that a horse?!?!) "Sam, are you seeing a horse?"
"Sure am."
The brothers stared at the horse that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. It stood about 15 feet in front of them with dapples of sunlight dancing across its glossy black coat. Eerily enough, it seemed to be studying them, too.
The stallion tossing his head and pawing the ground interrupted the stillness. Clumps of lush grass were uprooted as the horse snorted and grunted. "Damn, Sam," Dean murmured. "He's beautiful." Sam frowned at the graceful animal. "What's he doing out here?" He slowly moved toward the horse, carefully watching its reaction. The stallion became slightly more agitated, but let them approach. "There's no bridle or halter. I wonder if he's got shoes."
"'Cause freakin' thoroughbreds really need horseshoes on a tropical island," Dean snarked, following his brother. "Better a horse than a polar bear, huh?"
"You can--"
The horse's neigh rang out as it reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. Dean and Sam scrambled backward. "Sam, get back," Dean barked, drawing his shotgun. He didn't need to check the chamber to know that salt rounds were already loaded. Salt rounds aren't lethal, but they'll stop most people…and specters. "What do you think I'm..." Sam's words trailed off as the horse looked right at him, its ears pressed flat against its neck. Then it leaped forward. "RUN!" Sam cried, hauling ass away from the charging animal.
Dean didn't need any encouragement. Running in his brother's wake, he shouted, "Sam, the book. I got your back." Sam already had the book in hand, but wasn't reading. "How the fuck am I supposed to read while dodging palm trees ahead of a pissed-off horse?!"
"Good point, Sammy," Dean conceded, looking over his shoulder. The horse was still 15 feet behind them. It should have overrun them by now. In fact, it seemed to be keeping pace with them.
With Dean on his heels Sam cut to the right toward the bunker. The horse turned even more sharply, forcing them straight ahead. A few seconds later Sam tried again. The horse did the same. (It's herding us!) Dean realized. "Sam, we need something and we need it NOW."
Sam glared back at his brother. "Then you get the nice horse to take a break, 'kay?" Just as the boys were getting winded they broke into a clearing. Something else had changed: the dull thumping of hooves on the damp ground was gone. Dean looked over his shoulder and slowed to a halt. "It's okay, Sam. It's gone." He faced forward in time to see Sam swallowed by the tall grasses. "SAM!" Dean sprinted to where he'd last seen his brother.
"Oh, GROSS!" Sam cried. Their father's journal suddenly arced up into the air, landing in the grass beside the hole Sam had discovered. (Not a hole,) Dean realized. (A grave. Shit!) "Sam, you okay?!" Dropping to his knees he peered into the hole.
And burst out laughing.
Despite the stench, Dean couldn't help himself. "Sammy, with all the gorgeous women on this island..." Dean hung his head and shook it sadly. Sam was straddled on all fours over dead woman's naked, albeit well-endowed, corpse, trying not to touch her. "Very funny, Dean." Sam's look of disgust was understandable. Although they were used to dealing with rotten corpses, this one was especially rotten smelling. Sulfur added to the already noxious odor of putrefaction. "Oh, this is nasty." Sam continued as he examined the body. "Come look at this, Dean."
"Oh, no! No way, brother, I see everything just fine from here."
The hole was big, bigger than it needed to be to just dump a body in it. There were no gravestones, no marking to indicate that anything had been buried here
in the first place. As Dean looked around, he noticed similar mounds of varying ages, and even a few unearthed ones, too. "Sam, there are others like this
one. This is a freakin' cemetery."
"Actually, I don't think so. I think it's more just a burial station. There's nothing ceremonial or ritualistic about this. This body was just dumped
here, and then dug up later." It was obvious the body was dumped. There was no tombstone, no markings of any kind above ground, no burial shroud, and the body had been dumped face first and then turned over much later. The limbs indicated that, especially the fact that one of the arms was torn postmortem, revealing grisly tendons, rotted muscle, and yellowed bone protruding from the elbow. As Sam examined the elbow, a centipede as thick as his thumb crawled out of the wound and snaked into the nearby earth. (Gross.) Sam thought.
"Why?" Dean looked again at the corpse, and then figured out why. "Body harvesting, figures." The corpse's torso had been cut into with surgical precision, ribs broken to reveal the chest cavity, congealed blood mixed with dirt filling the place where the heart should have been. "Anything else?"
"The heart and brain, I think."
"Aw, no way, man. Brain, too?"
"Yeah. See?" Sam pointed out that fact to his brother by lifting the top of the skull from the woman's head. It peeled off from the corpse with a squelch, releasing more stench and a host of bugs, worms, and other creepy crawlies. With the pressure from the bugs gone, the eyes sunk into the empty skull cavity. Sam threw the skull cap back down. "Ugh!"
"Oh, Sam, what'd you go and do that for?"
"Had to see for sure."
"Yeah, but couldn't you like use a stick or something?"
"And just where would I find a stick in a hole dug six feet deep?" Dean had to concede the point there.
"The grave looks like it was dug up just a few days ago. Corpse looks fresh, too. Only a few months. But sulfur? Why not embalming fluid? Sulfur is old school." Dean quieted for a moment, thinking. "Do you smell almonds?" He knew that Sam was one of those rare people who could detect the presence of arsenic.
"Yeah, barely though," Sam replied. "The sulfur kinda makes it hard to smell anything."
Dean scowled. "So, they bury this body using homemade embalming fluid instead of the real stuff. Body isn't even drained of its blood either. After a few months, they dig it up and harvest the heart and brain. Sounds to me like it was put here either to hold it, or cure it, or something."
Sam carefully got to his feet. "Get me outta here. There's nothing else down here, and I think I'm gonna puke."
"Well, don't yarf on me," Dean said, reaching down to help Sam up.
The pair grab the book and spend a few mintues examining the other opened graves. All had been opened at various times, some years ago, some recently. Once opened, they harvested parts from the body and then just left the grave open to the elements. Dean and Sam weren't all that surprised to find corpses and skeletons that weren't even recognizably human. "Time to radio it in," Dean said. He thumbed one of the button on his radio. "Daniel, we're coming in. We've found something, a graveyard of sorts. Over."
While waiting for a response, Dean look over at his brother and smiled. “Dude, you shoulda seen yourself, Sammich. Ran like a girl!"
Sam rolled his eyes. ”Whatever. Faster than you.”
”Only 'cause of your freakishly long legs.”
”Jealous much?”
Dean snorted. ”As if. 'Sides, who's gettin' some? Eh?”
”Man-whore.” Sam muttered.
Dean replied, preening, “Ladies man, thankyouverymuch.”
Where: About 2 miles SouthEast of Medical Facility, doing a perimeter check
When: Day 20, afternoon
Invited: Anyone that hears the radio
Status: Complete
Dean and Sam left with Jon and May to do a full perimeter sweep. Dean and Sam were covering the south and east quadrant in a roughly two mile radius from the base. The brothers had agreed to start at the outer edge of their quadrant and work their way in to meet in the middle. It was mostly boring long work, but both were glad to have the perimeter checked and verified that, at least for now, nothing was there. The brothers found nothing during their sweep except the occasional strange sounding bird and large arthropod. After several hours, they found each other and began to head towards the base.
"I'm tellin' ya, Sam. You really need to let Jessie go." It was a conversation they'd had before, and probably would have again.
Sam's mouth became a thin line. "It's not that easy for me, Dean. I'm not like you."
That hurt Dean, but he never let it show. Yeah, sure, he liked women, liked when they didn't invade his life too much, either, but Sam tended to forget about Cassie.
Sam stopped and peered into the jungle. "Dean, what's that?" Dean stopped and followed Sam's gaze. (Is that a horse?!?!) "Sam, are you seeing a horse?"
"Sure am."
The brothers stared at the horse that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. It stood about 15 feet in front of them with dapples of sunlight dancing across its glossy black coat. Eerily enough, it seemed to be studying them, too.
The stallion tossing his head and pawing the ground interrupted the stillness. Clumps of lush grass were uprooted as the horse snorted and grunted. "Damn, Sam," Dean murmured. "He's beautiful." Sam frowned at the graceful animal. "What's he doing out here?" He slowly moved toward the horse, carefully watching its reaction. The stallion became slightly more agitated, but let them approach. "There's no bridle or halter. I wonder if he's got shoes."
"'Cause freakin' thoroughbreds really need horseshoes on a tropical island," Dean snarked, following his brother. "Better a horse than a polar bear, huh?"
"You can--"
The horse's neigh rang out as it reared up on its hind legs and pawed the air. Dean and Sam scrambled backward. "Sam, get back," Dean barked, drawing his shotgun. He didn't need to check the chamber to know that salt rounds were already loaded. Salt rounds aren't lethal, but they'll stop most people…and specters. "What do you think I'm..." Sam's words trailed off as the horse looked right at him, its ears pressed flat against its neck. Then it leaped forward. "RUN!" Sam cried, hauling ass away from the charging animal.
Dean didn't need any encouragement. Running in his brother's wake, he shouted, "Sam, the book. I got your back." Sam already had the book in hand, but wasn't reading. "How the fuck am I supposed to read while dodging palm trees ahead of a pissed-off horse?!"
"Good point, Sammy," Dean conceded, looking over his shoulder. The horse was still 15 feet behind them. It should have overrun them by now. In fact, it seemed to be keeping pace with them.
With Dean on his heels Sam cut to the right toward the bunker. The horse turned even more sharply, forcing them straight ahead. A few seconds later Sam tried again. The horse did the same. (It's herding us!) Dean realized. "Sam, we need something and we need it NOW."
Sam glared back at his brother. "Then you get the nice horse to take a break, 'kay?" Just as the boys were getting winded they broke into a clearing. Something else had changed: the dull thumping of hooves on the damp ground was gone. Dean looked over his shoulder and slowed to a halt. "It's okay, Sam. It's gone." He faced forward in time to see Sam swallowed by the tall grasses. "SAM!" Dean sprinted to where he'd last seen his brother.
"Oh, GROSS!" Sam cried. Their father's journal suddenly arced up into the air, landing in the grass beside the hole Sam had discovered. (Not a hole,) Dean realized. (A grave. Shit!) "Sam, you okay?!" Dropping to his knees he peered into the hole.
And burst out laughing.
Despite the stench, Dean couldn't help himself. "Sammy, with all the gorgeous women on this island..." Dean hung his head and shook it sadly. Sam was straddled on all fours over dead woman's naked, albeit well-endowed, corpse, trying not to touch her. "Very funny, Dean." Sam's look of disgust was understandable. Although they were used to dealing with rotten corpses, this one was especially rotten smelling. Sulfur added to the already noxious odor of putrefaction. "Oh, this is nasty." Sam continued as he examined the body. "Come look at this, Dean."
"Oh, no! No way, brother, I see everything just fine from here."
The hole was big, bigger than it needed to be to just dump a body in it. There were no gravestones, no marking to indicate that anything had been buried here
in the first place. As Dean looked around, he noticed similar mounds of varying ages, and even a few unearthed ones, too. "Sam, there are others like this
one. This is a freakin' cemetery."
"Actually, I don't think so. I think it's more just a burial station. There's nothing ceremonial or ritualistic about this. This body was just dumped
here, and then dug up later." It was obvious the body was dumped. There was no tombstone, no markings of any kind above ground, no burial shroud, and the body had been dumped face first and then turned over much later. The limbs indicated that, especially the fact that one of the arms was torn postmortem, revealing grisly tendons, rotted muscle, and yellowed bone protruding from the elbow. As Sam examined the elbow, a centipede as thick as his thumb crawled out of the wound and snaked into the nearby earth. (Gross.) Sam thought.
"Why?" Dean looked again at the corpse, and then figured out why. "Body harvesting, figures." The corpse's torso had been cut into with surgical precision, ribs broken to reveal the chest cavity, congealed blood mixed with dirt filling the place where the heart should have been. "Anything else?"
"The heart and brain, I think."
"Aw, no way, man. Brain, too?"
"Yeah. See?" Sam pointed out that fact to his brother by lifting the top of the skull from the woman's head. It peeled off from the corpse with a squelch, releasing more stench and a host of bugs, worms, and other creepy crawlies. With the pressure from the bugs gone, the eyes sunk into the empty skull cavity. Sam threw the skull cap back down. "Ugh!"
"Oh, Sam, what'd you go and do that for?"
"Had to see for sure."
"Yeah, but couldn't you like use a stick or something?"
"And just where would I find a stick in a hole dug six feet deep?" Dean had to concede the point there.
"The grave looks like it was dug up just a few days ago. Corpse looks fresh, too. Only a few months. But sulfur? Why not embalming fluid? Sulfur is old school." Dean quieted for a moment, thinking. "Do you smell almonds?" He knew that Sam was one of those rare people who could detect the presence of arsenic.
"Yeah, barely though," Sam replied. "The sulfur kinda makes it hard to smell anything."
Dean scowled. "So, they bury this body using homemade embalming fluid instead of the real stuff. Body isn't even drained of its blood either. After a few months, they dig it up and harvest the heart and brain. Sounds to me like it was put here either to hold it, or cure it, or something."
Sam carefully got to his feet. "Get me outta here. There's nothing else down here, and I think I'm gonna puke."
"Well, don't yarf on me," Dean said, reaching down to help Sam up.
The pair grab the book and spend a few mintues examining the other opened graves. All had been opened at various times, some years ago, some recently. Once opened, they harvested parts from the body and then just left the grave open to the elements. Dean and Sam weren't all that surprised to find corpses and skeletons that weren't even recognizably human. "Time to radio it in," Dean said. He thumbed one of the button on his radio. "Daniel, we're coming in. We've found something, a graveyard of sorts. Over."
While waiting for a response, Dean look over at his brother and smiled. “Dude, you shoulda seen yourself, Sammich. Ran like a girl!"
Sam rolled his eyes. ”Whatever. Faster than you.”
”Only 'cause of your freakishly long legs.”
”Jealous much?”
Dean snorted. ”As if. 'Sides, who's gettin' some? Eh?”
”Man-whore.” Sam muttered.
Dean replied, preening, “Ladies man, thankyouverymuch.”
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