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Not many people do what our family does. If you can call it a family. Two brothers and our estranged father. Our job isn’t like normal jobs. We encounter danger and evil everyday of our lives. We are hunters, trained by our dad John. Animals? No. Demons. Vampires. Werewolves. And Ghosts. We have had many encounters with ghosts before, but this is one of the most memorable.
The Black 1967 Chevrolet Impala purred to a standstill as my brother Dean pulled over at a house by the road. I got out from the passenger side and took a look at it. It was weary and old looking, with peeling paint on the front garden fence, and weeds sprouting from the gaps in the concrete pathway. The upstairs windows were smashed, a curtain fluttering inside. I walked up to the door, Dean closing the gate with a creak. The sound of me knocking rang loud inside the house. No one answered. Not that I had expected them to. This was a dead man’s house after all.
“Come on Sam, really?” Dean pushed me aside as he took a paperclip from his pocket. He inserted the paperclip, and the door swung open. “Where’s the little know-it-all nerd boy that’s my brother?”
“Shut up Dean” I said as he looked at me smugly.
The house smelt terrible. It stank of old, damp and death. We walked into the hallway and our footsteps where deafening in the silent building.
“You recon old Tommy is still here?” I asked.
Dean said that he must be, considering all the unusual happenings in the area as of late, and anyway, didn’t I trust him to be right? I simply frowned and we moved into the living room to continue our search. We weren’t just hunting any ghost.This was the ghost of Skinned Tom.
It’s local legend in Tennessee that there was once a boy called Tom. He was a good looking lad, and popular with the ladies. One time he was dating a woman, but the woman was already married without Tom’s knowledge. The husband found out about their little relationship, and followed them to this house. The husband flew at his wife in a maddened rage, and stabbed her, before dragging Tom off to ‘Teach him a lesson’. By lesson I mean skinning him alive. Some say that Tom still hangs around this old place to teach people the same ‘lesson’ that the husband taught him. Sounds like a silly kid’s story you say? Some stories are true. Us Winchesters know that better than anyone.
We made our way upstairs, Dean going first and the light of our flashlights aiding us. “Creak!” I turned back around sharply. “Sorry” Dean said. He had simply trod on a creaky step. I pinched the skin on the back of his neck. I entered the bathroom. Nothing there.
Dean pointed the EVP recorder at the bedroom and it went wild. “Beep! Beeeeppp!! Beep! Beep!” Dean took the salt out of his pocket and got it ready. I adjusted the strap on my rucksack.
The door was blown off its hinges, sending us crashing into the hallway wall. I got up immediately, and Dean groaned beside me. I shook a little, as I saw the ghost of Skinned Tom. The spirit was shiny silver, completely see-through. His features where mutilated and shrivelled where he had been skinned. Bits of skin flaked, and there where patches of dark silver where blood was. I could tell he had been a handsome man when alive.
This was definitely him. And he was holding a knife.
Tom flew towards me, and I ran. I ran into the bedroom behind him, dragging Dean behind me. I searched frantically, in the wardrobe. I had to find the dead man’s body. Find it. Cover it in salt. And burn it. That was the only way to be rid of a ghost. There was nothing in the wardrobe and underneath the bed.
The door handle turned slowly. Come on Sam, think. Where would the body be? The least obvious place. The floorboards. I ripped the wooden floor to shreds as the door was tried again.
At last, the awful stench of a dead body filled my nostrils, and I covered my nose and mouth.
I took the salt from my rucksack and tossed it over the body. I unscrewed the lid of the petrol and poured it over the bones. Trembling slightly, I lit a match, just as the door swug open. The sudden gust of wind blew out the match, and Tom stormed into the room. At that moment Dean awoke, grabbing his gun and shooting at the ghost. Tom screamed in anger, and flew towards him, knife held high. I struck another match and flung it at Toms dead body. The corpse became engulfed in fire, and Tom shrieked as he burst into flame and started to melt. He dropped the knife and was gone.
My brother and I stood there in stunned silence for a few moments.
It was the end.