By: Catnip2
Lidérc
"Run! Run! It's coming down!" Kevin Tildy yelled at the top of his voice as the earth shook all around him. Men were running past him, men he worked with, men he knew, men who had trusted him. It was dark, the few lamps that worked swung to and fro as the support beams creaked under pressure. Solid rock began to tumble off of the walls and ceiling, falling underfoot of the panicked men trying to get out.
"It's a cave in! A cave in! Hurry! Hurry! Run! Cave in!" Tildy continued yelling. A captain goes down with his ship, and a foreman waits for the last man. His father would stay, stay until the last man got out, stay until everyone was safe. His father would stay until the walls came tumbling down, and so would Kevin.
"Demons worry when the wizard is near, he turns tears into joy," Dean attempted to sing, tapping his hand on the steering wheel in rhythm. Sam sat gloomily beside him, giving serious thought to the benefits of homicide.
"Everyone's happy when the wizard walks by," Dean finished this bit alone, as Sam hit the 'eject' button and haphazardly threw the cassette into the back seat. With an unflattering pout Sam stared out the window, clearly not wishing to discuss the abrupt act. Dean paid the pout no mind.
"I was listening to that!" he yelled louder then needed to be.
"You could hear it above whatever the hell you were doing?" Sam questioned. Now Dean pouted, but he didn't mean it. He had only been 'singing' to annoy his little brother. He intended to make up for two years gone.
"Dad never complained."
"Why would he? He's as tone deaf as you are," Sam said and silence fell over the car. Sam could have thanked god for that.
"How much farther is it to, wherever…?" Dean finally asked. Sam sighed and pulled the crumpled map up from under his legs. He found their highlighted destination and looked around for any road signs.
"That depends, where on earth are we?"
"I think we're on the 33."
"Going east or west?"
"I dunno. There's a compass in the glove compartment," Dean suggested. Sam jiggled the glove compartment's handle a little and it popped open. A handgun fell out of it and between Sam's legs to the car floor. He reached down and picked it up, giving his brother a questioning glare.
"I've been looking for that…" Dean said. Sam pushed a few things in the compartment aside, a cross, a bottle of holy water, a package of silver bullets, and, oddly enough, a pair of gloves. Finally he found the rumored compass and latched the glove compartment with everything stuffed back inside. Sam opened the compass and let it find north.
"So which way are we going?" Dean asked. Sam frowned at him.
"South."
"Is that good?"
"The 33 only goes east and west. We're lost…" Sam told him. Dean shrugged.
"It's not like we had a reason for going to, wherever, anyway…"
"We can't just fool around with this, Dean. We need to have a plan, something logical!"
"Alright, alright, Mr. Spock, we can be logical about this. I know I saw a sign for the 33 not long ago so it has to be around here somewhere. There's a sign coming up, what's it say?" Dean asked. Both men leaded forward slightly to get a better view of it. Once they passed they both slumped back.
"'Welcome to Oklahoma…'" Sam answered.
"I don't suppose wherever is in Oklahoma…" Dean asked and Sam only shook his head in response.
"Washington…"
"Okay, oh well. Let's try to be logical in Oklahoma then…"
When the Chevy pulled into the next town Dean maneuvered it into a parking spot in front of 'Ma's Cuntry Cookery,' the 'o' from 'country' having vanished long ago. Dean thought the name was rather funny, so they stopped to eat there and not McDonalds like Sam had wanted. A small bell announced their entrance and they took a booth along the window, the car insight. The other inhabitants of the restaurant were the type not generally described as 'people,' they were more along the line of 'folks.' Scruffy, incredibly tired looking people who had done the same thing every day for the past forty years. The Winchesters were new and were therefore of interest to them. That was, of course, until a middle-aged woman walked out of the kitchen wearing a pink uniform and over to another waitress behind the counter.
"Kent just had me deliver to Ruth Tildy's, and Jesus, Karen, the woman looks even worse than before," the woman gossiped. A teenage girl in an identical pink uniform stood at Sam and Dean's table, giving them printed menus slipped into essay covers. The special had something to do with omelets. The men ordered drinks and the bubblegum chewer walked away.
"Anything look good to you?" Sam asked skimming over the menu.
"Does this really say 'stone soup?'" Dean asked in reply.
"Ever since Kevin died in that cave-in Ruth's just gotten worse and worse," Karen gossiped back.
"Wanna try it?" Sam asked.
"No… but you go ahead," Dean replied, grimacing at the menu.
"Do you remember how pretty she used to be? While now she looks like some sorta mummy or something. Right out of the crypt."
"They sell franch fries, I wonder what those are…" Dean muttered.
"You know them as typos."
"She can't look that bad, she's only, what, 30 something?"
"They have chili."
"I bet Soylent Green is the main ingredient."
"No, I'm serious. It looks like someone sucked the life right out of her. Some sorta vampire or something," the woman said. At this Sam and Dean looked in their direction.
"Vampires suck blood, silly."
"Well whatever sucks life, it got to her! Scared me half to death just standing by her. I tell you, something is wrong with that woman."
"Dean, when's the last time a vampire came to Oklahoma?" Sam asked as his older brother rifled through a phone book. They had eaten a meal barely passable by the Department of Health, and found the town's small library and the phonebook within it.
"I know it's not a vampire, the fat one was right, they don't suck life."
"Then what are we doing here?"
"We're being logical. When a woman goes from 30 to mummy, something is wrong, something in our line of work," Dean explained. Sam thought for a moment.
"Any idea what it is?" he asked.
"No," Dean said running his finger along the lists of names, "but you can look through this," he handed Sam their dad's journal. Eyeing the book almost suspiciously Sam sat down at a near by table and began to look through it. Spider demons, mara, changelings… If Stephen King had written this it'd be a made for TV movie by now.
"I found her!" Dean said excitedly, "Tildy, 121 Cherry Lane! Let's go!"
Over time, it is possible for a house to reflect those who dwell in it. While most houses on Cherry Lane were bright and happy, number 121 had weather beaten roof tiles, fading paint, and drooping shutters. It was a house in mourning.
"Yeesh," Sam said as they stood in front of it, "something is haunting that place."
"Any luck from the journal?"
"I only looked at it for a second."
"You could just say 'no,' you don't have to make excuses."
"I'm not making excuses!"
"Come on, let's go," Dean stopped the argument cold and headed down the over grown path.
"How long ago did this Kevin guy die?" Sam asked stepping over a sprinkler imbedded in the weeds.
"I'll remember to ask," Dean answered coming to a stop in front of the gloomy front door. He knocked and they waited. He knocked again and they waited. He raised his fist once more when the door opened a crack and a small gray eye peered at them from the shadows.
"What do you want?" she demanded harshly.
"We're from the gas company. There have been complaints of a gassy smell coming from this side of the street. Do you mind if we look at your stove?" Dean asked smiling at her, even flashing a fake ID.
"I don't smell anything," she accused them, still hidden behind the door.
"Ah, you may have gotten used to it, that can happen," Sam offered.
"It'll only take a minute and is much less painful then going up in a giant ball of flames. May we come in?" Dean still smiled at her. The gray eye twitched slightly.
"Fine, fine," she said and opened the door. Before them stood a thin woman of a graying complexion and wrinkled flesh. Her hair was wiry and thin and as gray as her skin. The woman's appearance was set off by a flowery green dress with only served to make her look older and more withered away. The waitress was right; somewhere there was an empty sarcophagus.
"Thank you so much, where's the kitchen?" Dean asked stepping into the house before she could change her mind.
"At the end of the hall," she spat.
"Wonderful. Sid, will you go check that?" Dean asked Sam, taking him by surprise.
"Um, yeah, sure," Sam said walking off down the hall.
"Doesn't he need tools?" Ruth asked.
"Oh," Dean waved it off, "Sid's seen so many broken gas lines he can tell right away. Now, how old is your stove?"
"Um, about 12 years, I think."
"You never thought of replacing it?"
"Never came up."
"Okay, then. Have you noticed any changes around the home? Any discolorations? Gas can do that," he lied.
"Nope. Everything's fine."
"That's good. Do you live here alone?" Dean asked. At that the woman ruffled slightly.
"Yes, ever since my dear husband passed away, over a year ago. What does that have to do with anything?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I was just wondering if there might be anyone else who may have noticed anything. I don't suppose his body was pink? Gas can do that, too."
"I don't know, he died in a cave-in, down at the mines. He was never recovered…" she said so softly Dean almost regretted asking the question. There was a silence and Sam walked over to them.
"I, um, didn't see a leak," he said. Dean's smile went back over his face.
"Well that's excellent, we can go now. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Tildy," he bowed slightly and Sam rolled his eyes.
"Leave, just leave!" she said moving to push them out the door. They were both a step ahead of her, not wanting to be touched by the decaying hands. After they were both in the car Sam finally asked what they had learned.
"We're going spelunking," Dean replied as they drove off.
"I don't see the point in all of this…" Dean said pacing back and forth behind Sam. The younger brother shook his head in almost disgust. The seat of Dean's pants must have so many frequent flier miles.
"You don't see the point in doing research before heading into a cave that recently collapsed?" Sam asked him.
"It wasn't 'recent,' it was over a year ago. Besides, we just walk in, step around some rubble, and make sure the guy is there. It's easy!"
"Easy? Trained specialized dug there for two weeks, and they still only managed to recover one body out of four lost," Sam shared his newly discovered information. This did give Dean a bit of pause, but then the image of Ruth Tildy flashed through his mind and he cringed again. Man that woman had been ugly.
"I'll give you tonight to do research, but tomorrow we're going in," he asserted. Sam swiveled back around to the computer screen.
"How generous of you…"
It was almost noon when the Winchesters managed to find the right cave. Caution tape and almost a dozen signs to turn back were at first their only real obstacles. Not long after they lost the light from the outside world did things get a little rocky. It didn't help any that somewhere there was a dripping sound of a pool forming under a rock that was slowly getting on Dean's nerves. He was not a tremendous fan of silence. Silence is always when they attack.
"Echo!" he yelled and listened as his voice returned to him over and over again. Sam hit him rather sharply with a flashlight.
"Do you not understand what a 'cave-in' is?" he demanded, carefully eyeing the stone walls around them.
"Oh relax. It's not like I'm going to start drilling," he paused, "besides, you know you want to do it too."
"I do not."
"Sure you do. An echo is one thing everybody loves. That and a zamboni," Dean told him. Sam gave him a questioning glance and argued something over in his head.
"Echo!" Sam yelled and grinned slightly as it was returned to him.
"There, feel better?" Dean asked with a smile. Sam's face quickly went to a stern grimace and he walked out ahead of this brother.
Dean didn't like losing sight of his brother, but it was only a few seconds or so before he found Sam standing where two caves split off from the central one. He had his flashlight on a print out of the caves he had somehow been able to access on the computer.
"So, which way?" Dean asked him looking down both as far as he could.
"Well…" Sam rotated the map slightly, "the cave-in occurred down there." He pointed down the left tunnel.
"Well then, after you," Dean motioned Sam ahead of him. After about a minute of more walking in silence boulders began to be seen on the tunnel floor, they got progressively larger until finally the two men came to a caved-in dead end.
"Well that's just perfect…" Dean said picking up a loose pebble from the ground and throwing it at the barricade. Suddenly there was a deep rumbling noise coming from all around them. Instantly they were both at a full run away from the dead end and stopped just short of where the tunnels had split. Breathlessly they turned around and looked behind them, expecting to see rumble following them. There was nothing but the cave.
"You ran," Dean told Sam, huffing for breath.
"So did you," Sam huffed back.
"Yeah, well, I'd rather not die being crushed to death. I'd prefer, you know, getting an arrow through the heart, or a succubus, yeah… that one sounds nice…" Dean rambled still breathing heavily. Sam just shook his head and straightened up.
"Do you want to try that again?" Sam asked, making it clear he did NOT wish to, but if Dean was going to walk back there Sam would have to follow, if only to keep his brother from doing something stupid.
"No," Dean shook his head, "I think it's safe to say he's dead…"
"So can we get out of here?"
"Yeah, we got research to do," Dean said starting to leave. Sam paused for a moment.
"We have what?"
"Nothing like this has happened here before?" Dean asked from behind Sam. The two had gotten a cheap motel room and Sam had set up his laptop while Dean flipped through their father's journal. The room was like every other motel room they had been in, badly decorated and with an odd smell.
"Like I said, nothing. The closest we got is a woman that died of dehydration," Sam told him, this time hoping Dean would actually listen.
"That might be an explanation for what we saw…" Dean said rather interested.
"Did that look like dehydration to you?"
"No, but these people haven't seen what we've seen. When was that?"
Sam clicked a few more buttons.
"1892…" he answered. Dean frowned.
"Well how about the three other guys that got killed in the cave-in? Why is it only this guy's wife?"
"Um… The other three didn't have wives…"
"Do you suppose that could be a factor?"
"How's your research doing, by the way?" Sam turned around to ask, obviously feeling a bit pestered.
"It's fine…" Dean said and sat down on one of the beds with squeaked under his weight. He put his attention on the journal. Sam sighed and turned back to his computer screen. There were a few moments of silence.
"Hey I was thinking…" Dean started, "I know this isn't a vampire, but it might be a type of vampire."
"Like that succubus you were talking about?" Sam asked, still clicking away on his laptop.
"Well this is a woman, and an incubus only gives you one night and you're gone. Besides, ew…" Dean shivered at the image of the mummy that was Ruth Tildy sans clothing. Sam cringed slightly at the idea too.
"Never allude to that again…"
"How about a Chiang-shih?" Dean asked.
"Nuh uh. I saw garlic in her kitchen, it'd never come near the place."
"A Gayal?"
"Doesn't the deceased have to be from India for that to work?"
"Generally…"
"Well, then, I suggest you move on."
"How about a Lidérc?" Dean asked. Sam lifted his head from his computer screen and looked around at his brother.
"What's it say?"
"A woman mourning for a dead husband might one day find him standing in front of her. They'd, um, couple, and over several nights the Lidérc would feed off of her until she joined him in the darkness…" Dean read. They looked at each other for a moment.
"Any way to prove it?" Sam asked.
"Um, yeah," Dean turned back to the book, "the night it first appears a star streaks across the sky almost on fire."
Sam clicked quickly on his computer.
"Here it is. A couple of nights ago the local newspaper reported a 'fantastic cosmic display in the sky.'"
"Cosmic display in the sky, imagine that…"
"From the looks of that woman she might only have one night left, at most."
"And that would be tonight…"
"Yes it would."
"What time is it?" Dean asked looking around for a clock. Sam glanced back at his computer screen.
"Quarter to nine."
"That would be now. Come on! We gotta go!" Dean grabbed his coat and keys and headed for the door, Sam not far after him.
Every citizen of Cherry Lane was made aware of Sam and Dean's presence as their car screeched around the corner and roared down the road.
"What do we do if it's in there with her?" Sam asked, clutching his seat belt.
"We close our eyes and shoot," Dean said hitting the glove compartment with his fist, making it pop open and its contents spill over Sam. Sam was too concerned with Dean watching the road to mind the clutter in his lap.
"We can't just shoot! We might hit her!"
"There's only one other way to get rid of it. Hold on," Dean swung the car into a parking spot with surprising grace. "Grab the gun!" he said getting out. Sam did so before he slammed the door after him.
"What's the other way?" Sam asked as they jogged up to the house.
"Make her see it."
"See what?"
"Mrs. Tildy!" Sam banged on the door, "Mrs. Tildy!" he yelled again.
"Dean, see what?" Sam demanded. Dean was unable to answer as he was kicking the door in. There was a ghastly noise coming from upstairs.
"There're the stairs, let's go," Sam said and lead the charge, now too in the moment to bother asking questions. The men raced up the flight of stairs and followed the sound to a room toward the back. Dean kicked the door open and they discovered the mummy Ruth Tildy on the bed underneath her not dead looking husband.
"OoH!" Sam and Dean cried out in unison, recoiling and shielding their eyes from the sight.
"I'm gonna be sick," Sam muttered as the two on the bed noticed them. Ruth tried to cover her wrinkled flesh with a sheet, still youthfully embarrassed.
"Get out!" she yelled at them, almost crying.
"He's not your husband!" Dean yelled to her as the naked figure of her husband got off the bed and headed toward them. Dean shot him once in the heart.
"No!" Ruth protested, but the figure barely flinched and soon the mark was gone. This time Sam shot him twice in the chest, but the man kept coming.
"Look at his feet! Look at your husband's feet!" Dean yelled to her as he and Sam retreated backward into the hall, still firing. The woman did, and so did Sam.
There, almost comically, at the end of the figure's left leg instead of a human foot, was a goose's.
"What the hell!" Sam yelled in surprise.
"Kevin?" Ruth's voice trembled. At that the figure stopped, a look of disappointment washed briefly over his face, and then he was gone. Somewhat hesitantly the Winchester brothers peeked back into the bedroom. On the bed was a round, fleshy woman in her mid-30's, clutching the sheet to her chest. Tears ran down her face.
"So you mean to tell me, that for all of their magical powers and mysterious life sucking abilities, every Lidérc has a goose foot?" Sam asked as Dean drove them along a highway. Dean nodded.
"All the widow has to do it see it, and the thing is gone," he explained. Sam shook his head and looked out the window.
"That's crazy. How do they ever kill a woman? She must always see it…"
"A lot of women don't want to see it," Dean told him and Sam nodded, understanding it. If Jess came back…Sam closed his eyes… he might not want to see it either.
"So," Dean started, noticing the gloom beginning to surround his brother, "logic prevails in Oklahoma?"
Sam looked at him and smiled slightly.
"Apparently it does…"