Title: Mendota

Author: Sierra Crane

Rated: M for Violence, Gore, and Language

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any ofthe characters created in that show. I do own Dr. Grace Myers.

Summary: Dean and Sam head to Wisconsin in order to put a stop to the spirit of perhaps the most infamous murderer in U.S history. But what kind of dangers await them? Will they survive?

A/N: Even though it's stated in the rating, I thought I'd add an extra warning: This story will have lots of gore, and disturbing images. If that kind of thing bothers you, either try to skip over those parts, or just don't read.

Also, thanks to my beta Mary T., you're the best, girl:)

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Prologue

September, 1919

" . . .the man, the master of the house, went out to them and said to them: 'No, my brethren! I beg you, do not act so wickedly! Seeing this man has come into my house, do not commit this outrage'.

"'Look, here is my virgin daughter and the man's concubine; let me bring them out no. Humble them, and do with them as you please; but to this man do not do such a vile thing!'

"But the men would not heed him. So the man took his concubine and brought her out to them. And they knew her all night until morning; and when the day began to break, they let her go. Then the woman came as the day was dawning, and fell down at the door of the man's house where her master was, till it was light.

"When her master arose in the morning, and opened the doors of the house and went out to go his way, there was his concubine, fallen at the door of the house with her hands on the threshold. And he said to her: 'Get up and let us be going.' But there was no answer. So the man lifted her onto the donkey; and the man got up and went to his place.

"When he entered his house he took a knife, laid hold of his concubine, and divided her into twelve pieces, limb by limb, and sent her throughout all the territories of Israel. And so it was that all who saw it said, 'No such deed has been done or seen from the day that the children of Israel came up from the land of Egypt until this day. Consider it, confer, and speak up!"

Augusta's piercing eyes gazed down at her young son as he sat on the wood floor and stared up at her curiously, Ed was barely twelve years of age, but always took an avid interest when the time came for his mother to read passages from the Bible to him. Unlike his 18-year-old brother, Henry, who sat in a chair across from the fireplace and stared into the flames, completely dispassionate and uninterested.

"Henry!"

Augusta's shrill voice seemed to break into the elder brother's thoughts and he jerked his blue eyes in her direction.

"Were you paying any attention, son?" Augusta questioned, raising one eyebrow slowly.

"Of course, Mother." Henry nodded, risking looking away from his mother---but only for a brief moment. "They killed the whore. Chopped her into bits. Sent her around the country."

Augusta's eyes flashed. But her son was right. "Yes," she said, her voice steely and cold. "Women are vile creatures and worthy only of receiving the worst kind of punishment imaginable. Hellfire. Isn't that right, Eddie?" She looked down at her youngest again, her expression softening slightly.

"Yes, Mother," Ed said obediently, silenty cursing his brother for his insubordination. How dare he be so defiant of their precious mother!? Climbing to his feet, he placed a gentle kiss on his mother's weathered cheek. "Would you like a glass of water?"

"Yes, thank you." Augusta smiled. Her youngest was, indeed, the son she had prayed for when she first married George.

The mere thought of her drunkard husband brought a scowl to her haggard face, and when the sound of the backdoor slammed shut and she heard George's feet scuffing the floors, she muttered under her breath an obscenity she would never say loud enough for her boys to hear. She stood from her chair and met the drunken man in the doorway, unafraid and demanding as she spoke: "Did you find work today?"

George grinned a nearly toothless smile. "Didna' think to look!" he slurred, stumbling past his furious wife to slump into the chair she'd been sitting in before, only to be greeted by the fierce glare of his eldest son. "Wha?" he muttered, "you got a problem, boy?"

"You're disgusting."

The smack resounded throughout the tiny room and Henry's head snapped to the side, his cheek already turning a bright red.

"I'm not drunk enough," George said, "to let ya' talk t' me like that."

Henry jumped to his feet and stalked away as Ed returned with a glass of water for his mother; silently, the young boy handed the object over and shot a snarl in the direction of his hated father, who was oblivious to all else but the bottle in his hand.

"The hell are you staring at!?" George snarled.

Ed flinched away from his father's harsh voice, but forced himself to continue to meet his gaze and appear as unafraid as he could. Throughout the years, his mother had taught him about the evil of women in the world, how they would manipulate and steal for their own good, how God hated them all and someday they would suffer in eternal damnation . . . but to Ed, the worst evil he'd seen was in the form of his father. His father who would return home drunk every night, unemployed and smelling of sex and smoke, unconcerned with his family's wellbeing.

He felt his mother's hand on his shoulder and jumped, so consumed with hatred for the man that he hadn't even noticed her movement.

"The Lord's justice will be served, son," Augusta reminded him, "evil is always punished." Her grip on his bony shoulder tightened. "Remember the ways of God, and His people . . . 'And they utterly destroyed all that was in the city, both man and woman, young and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword'."

"Joshua Six: Twenty-One," Ed breathed out.

Augusta paused.

"Amen."

25 Years Later

"EDDIE!!!"

The flames rose high into the air as Henry's frantic scream tore through the bushes and he desperately ran around, searching through the smoke to find his missing brother; the fire had come upon them quickly as they surveyed the land they'd recently purchased, and they'd had no time to run.

Now the 39-year-old panted heavily and rested his hands on his bent knees, trying in vain to catch his breath amidst the smoke, and to ignore the heat nipping at his body. He groaned aloud, cursing the trip Ed had forced him to come along on; for their mother, he'd said, she was far too old and weak to check out the land herself.

The rolling hills of Wisconsin stretched out as far as the eye could see, but Henry could barely make out five feet in front of him; a cool breeze swept over the land and brought a shiver to his spine despite the heat of the fire, the smoke burned his eyes and assaulted his lungs. He doubled over, coughing so deeply he thought he might pass out.

"Goddamnit, Eddie! Where are you!?"

The roaring of the flames kept him from hearing the steps of his younger brother as Ed approached him from behind, a heavy club in his shaking hand and a murderous rage in his pale eyes; for years Henry had rejected and mocked his mother, making fun of her for the way she'd raised them. No more.

Without hesitation, he raised the club and brought it down on the back of his brother's head, smiling in sick satisfaction at the loud crack it made, and the way blood spurted from the wound as Henry's knees buckled and he collapsed face first onto the ground. The smile never leaving his face, Ed lifted his free hand and wiped his brother's blood from his cheek, then nudged the body with the toe of his boot.

Henry was dead.

His brother's blood slipped out from where his head lay and pooled on the dirt beneath him, his blue eyes were wide in his final expression: One of shock, but not of betrayal, he never saw his killer. He would never know it was his little brother, come to deliver unto him the punishment he deserved for being so rebellious toward their mother---and in turn, their God.

Ed turned away, beginning his walk back into town, where he would run into the sheriff's station and cry out that there had been a fire, and Henry was missing; no one would suspect quiet, shy Ed Gein to have committed any foul play. The only other person to know would be his mother. She would be pleased.

"The Lord's justice is swift . . . and final," Ed whispered. "Amen."

TBC