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Dean Winchester woke to the sound of his phone ringing, he fumbled for the device where he had set it on the nightstand. His limbs were not cooperating like they normally would and he managed to knock it onto the floor. The last hunt had sucked a lot and he hadn't had nearly enough sleep in the last forty-eight hours. His eyes tracked to the cheap digital clock which read 4:23AM, that meant he had only been asleep a couple of hours.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Dean growled into the phone as he brought it to his ear not bothering to check to see who the caller was.
“Don't take that tone with me,” John Winchesters replied tersely.
“Dad?” Dean said in shock, instantly awake. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” John replied. “I need you to check out a possible hunt.”
“A hunt?” Dean asked stupidly, his adrenaline was pumping but his brain hadn't quite caught up yet. He hadn't heard his father's voice in over six months.
“In Indiana,” John replied, then started laying out details. Dean grabbed the hotel note pad and started writing the information automatically. “You got all that?”
“Um,” Dean reread what he had written. “Couples disappearing this time of year every year for the past fifteen years at least. Yeah I got it.”
“I need you to get there and find out what the connection is.” John ordered. “Before anyone else vanishes.”
“I'm on it,” Dean replied. “Listen, I-”
“I'm counting on you to get this done,” John said and with that the call ended.
“Dad? Dad!” Dean stared at the phone in shock. “Son of a bitch.” He muttered tiredly.
He slowly got up and used the bathroom, then shuffled over to his laptop booting it up and connecting to the Internet. He spend time searching missing persons reports in the time frame his father spoke of over the last few years. He'd found a couple of the cases easily, but as he widened the search parameters, it seemed there was a definite pattern. He looked out the window and saw that the sun had risen.
Blinking tiredly he grabbed his phone and hit #3 on his speed dial. “Singer Salvage.”
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean replied.
“Dean,” Bobby sounded less than happy to hear from him. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Caught another case,” Dean replied.
“How? With your eyes closed?” Bobby asked. “You only went to bed six hours ago.”
“Dad called,” Dean said reluctantly. “He had a hunt for me to take care of.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Bobby snorted. “Did he happen to mention where he's been all this time?”
“No, he didn't,” Dean admitted reluctantly, then detailed the information John had given him along with the results of his own late night research.
“Alright, that sounds like a possible hunt,” Bobby agreed reluctantly.
“I got a hell of a drive ahead of me if I'm gonna get there today.” Dean said tiredly.
“I doubt you can see straight, let alone drive.” Bobby declared. “You get your ass back to bed and get a least four hours of sleep. You can always pay extra for late check out. I'll get some more research done on this end.”
“But-,” Dean started.
“No buts,” Bobby replied. “You've got time yet.”
“Okay,” Dean agreed, reluctantly. “I'll call you in a couple hours.”
“You better make it more than a couple,” Bobby warned. “I mean it.”
Dean hung up and crawled back into the bed not bothering to shut off the laptop. He was asleep before he was fully settled.
** ** **
Dean spent the next three days on the road, investigating several small towns in the general area of where the disappearances had occurred. He focused on the last missing person's case, a young couple that had been on a road trip to Southern California. They had just announced their engagement and had been traveling to visit the boyfriend's family.
Dean posed as a cousin, John Bonham, searching for a lost family member. He didn't even have to try and fake concern. All he had to do was think about how he felt when he couldn't find his father. He didn't find anything until he hit the tiny town of Burkittsville. From the moment he stepped into the town he found the people to be a little cagey. Well, expect for Emily, a young woman at the service station, she was pretty and nice. She also remember the couple, which she reminded her uncle about as they were all talking. Dean could tell right away something was off.
“So, what do you think of this town?” Dean asked as he and the young woman sat down at the local diner for lunch. Signs in the diner boasted about there locally grown apple pie and cider.
“I love it here.” Emily admitted. “It's so different from where I grew up on the East Coast. Quiet, peaceful, almost no crime at all. ”
“Sounds boring,” Dean replied, feeling eyes watching him, he glanced around and saw the sheriff peaking at him through the window.
“A little, but this town, I don't know. It's like it's been blessed,” Emily said taking a sip of her tea.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“All the other towns in the area have been having some real problems since the economy tanked,” Emily replied. “But here, we just haven't really been touched by that. It's a relief, especially after my parents died. Car crash.”
“I'm sorry for you loss. I know what it's like to lose family.”
“My aunt and uncle took me in. I was such a mess afterward, I don't know what I would have done if not for them,” Emily admitted.
Dean nodded thoughtfully then glanced at his watch. “Thank you, for taking time to have lunch with me.”
“You sure you can't stay for a while longer?” Emily asked, her hand drifting to touch his across the table.
Dean was sorely tempted, but the job came first. “Maybe when I come back this way. I've got family I'm trying to find.”
Emily blushed hard. “I am so sorry, that was rude of me.”
Dean flashed her his most charming smile. “Hey if it were any other time, I would totally get behind spending more time with you.”
Emily smiled back. “Next time then?”
“You can count on it.” Dean placed a couple twenties on the table as he got up and left, promptly running into the sheriff.
“Son, I think it's time you and I had a little chat.”
“Really?” Dean didn't roll his eyes, but it was a near thing.
“Folks around here are awfully protective of each other,” The sheriff stated. “We don't like it when strangers come around asking questions and making moves on a young thing like Emily.”
“You know,” Dean licked his lips thoughtfully. “That kind of attitude is what starts inbreeding.”
“I believe you've outstayed your welcome here Mr. Bonham.” He placed his hand casually on his service revolver.
Dean smirked and shook his head while lifting his hands up in surrender. “I was just leaving.”
As he turned and headed to his car, he saw a sensible sedan sitting at the service station with the hood up. Emily's uncle talking to a young couple while wiping his hands with an oil stained cloth. “Son of a bitch.” He mumbled to himself.
He climbed into the impala and drove out of town, the sheriff stopped and turned around at the city limits, but Dean drove for another mile before turning back. He decided to take one of the side roads that circled around the town and was rewarded when his EMF detector started going crazy. He pulled over to the side of the road and got out. There were orchards on both sides of the road however, there was no sign of heavy power lines in the area. He followed the strongest signal into the orchard on the right, checking for signs of life as he went. Several hundred feet away from the road was a post, with the ugliest scarecrow he had ever scene. He pointed the detector at it and the needle pinned.
Dean turned off the detector and used a picking ladder to get a closer look at the figure. It smelled of wet rotting burlap and leather, but on closer inspection, he saw what could only be a patch of preserved skin on one of the scarecrow's arms. There was a tattoo on the dried flesh that looked remarkably like the tattoo on the arm of the man from the latest missing couple. With a hard swallow, he headed back to the car, keeping an eyes on the figure as he left to make sure it didn't move.
Once he was back on the road, he looked for an unobtrusive spot to hide the impala so that he could stake out the orchard. Dean grabbed his phone and cursed when he realized there was no signal. He drove out of town in case the sheriff patrolled the area and called Bobby when he got a signal.
“Singer Salvage.”
“Hey Bobby,” Dean said.
“Dean! What's going on?”
“I think I found the problem out here,” Dean replied. “A town called Burkittsville, mostly Scandinavian decent. The last couple to disappear definitely came through here. They've also got some sort of messed up scarecrow out in an orchard that pinned my EMF meter.”
“Damn, Scandinavian you say?” Bobby asked.
“I think so,” Dean replied. “Lot's of last names that fit. I'm thinking some sort of pagan ritual or forest spirit is keeping this place prosperous while the rest of the area is tanking along with the economy.”
“Let me see what I can find on Norse gods,” Bobby groused.
“I'll call you back tonight, I need to stake out that orchard, but there's no phone signal there.”
“I don't like that.”
“Neither do I, but I'm pretty sure the towns folk have their next victims already picked out.” Dean replied. “I gotta make sure no one else dies.”
“You be careful,” Bobby said. “Call me back ASAP. Got it?”
“I will,” Dean smiled. “Thanks Bobby. I owe you.”
“Idjit,” Bobby replied and hug up.
Dean went back to his hiding spot and tried to relax. Several hours later, with the sun starting to dip behind the mountain tops, Dean saw the couple he had seen in town drive past him. The EMF meter on the seat next to him started to chirp and whine even before he got the car in gear. He pulled off to the side of the road next to the couple's car and cursed when he saw they had already entered the orchard. Lights from what looked like a farm house glowing in the distance, a beacon to anyone that was looking for help. Dean grabbed his shotgun, loaded with iron rounds and headed into orchard. He found the couple just in time as the scarecrow took a swing at the woman with its scythe. She screamed and ducked the blow stumbling into her boyfriend even as Dean leveled his gun and shot the creepy thing in the face.
“Back to the road. Move!” Dean shouted at them.
Both the man and the woman stared at him in shock for a split second before running to the road. Dean stayed at their rear, in order to guard them as they fled, expecting the creature to appear any second, but they made it to the road unmolested.
“What the hell was that?” the guy asked.
“I have no idea,” Dean replied, breathless.
“Are we safe?” the woman asked.
“For the moment at least,” Dean offered. “I don't think it can go past the orchard.”
“What do we do?” she asked.
“Pop the hood, let me see what those assholes did to your car, maybe I can get it started.”
It took several minutes of frantic searching, but Dean found what had been done to make the car stall. It took a little longer to fix the issue, but he had it up and running in an hour.
“Okay this should hold for now. I'll follow you until you get to the interstate,” Dean said. “Don't stop until you get to the first truck stop.”
“Thank you so much.” The guy, Terry, said. “How can we ever thank you?”
“Stay away from orchards at night?” Dean shrugged. “Seriously get out of here.” The woman, Monica, gave him a hug before climbing into the car.
Once the couple were well and truly on their way, Dean pulled over and called Bobby. “Dean?”
“Yeah, Bobby,” Dean replied. “It's all good at the moment. The couple nearly go sliced and diced, but no one got hurt and they are safely out of there.”
“Was it the scarecrow?” Bobby asked.
“Yep,” Dean replied. “It didn't like the iron rounds I shot into it, but that only slowed it down enough for an escape. I doubt I could kill it one on one.”
“Yeah, well, you're gonna have to go back there and finish this and it isn't going to be easy.”
“You found something,” Dean asked hopefully.
“The thing is called Vanir. It is a fertility god from the Norse pantheon. Takes on the appearance of a scarecrow and will grant prosperity and fertility to any that give it proper sacrifices.” Bobby confirmed. “In this case a man and a woman that are known to each other.”
“That could be anyone.” Dean replied.
Bobby sighed. “Known, as in intimate.”
“Oh!” Dean made a face. “I knew that.”
“Sure you did,” Bobby rolled his eyes, knowing Dean couldn't see him.
“So how do I kill it.”
“These kinds of deities are territorial. They tend to stay in their home countries unless the towns folk bring a way to anchor it to the new territory. Vanir, being a harvest god, would have to be anchored to something that stayed alive year after year. You need to look for something like an old tree.”
“An old apple tree in an orchard full of apple trees. Should be easy,” Dean muttered.
“It'll be revered, possibly marked with runes or have ribbins tied to it,” Bobby replied. “But be careful. This will be a sacred tree to these folks. They won't take kindly to anyone messing with it.”
“You know me, Bobby.” Dean grinned.
“Yes, I do,” Bobby growled in exasperation.
Dean said his goodbyes and hung up. His best bet on finding that tree would be getting some inside information. For that he decided to sneak back into town and find Emily. In the few hours since his confrontation with Vanir, the weather had taken a distinct downward turn. A cold front had come out of nowhere and it was now raining steadily.
He saw Emily over at the service station and made his way there. Just as he was about to get her attention he felt the press of a gun against his back.
“I thought I told you to leave town, young man,” The sheriff said. A moment later, Dean felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and everything went black.
He woke up to the sound of Emily crying, he opened his eyes and found himself in a root cellar. He managed to get to his feet in time to see the door open and Emily shoved through with her aunt and uncle, along with the sheriff just behind her.
“I don't understand,” Emily said frantically. “What is going on? Why are you doing this?”
“It is for the good of the town,” Her aunt said grimly then slammed the door and locked it from the outside.
“Wait, why are you here?” Emily said as she realized Dean was standing next to her.
“Welcome to the party, Emily,” Dean sighed. “Looks like the town decided to improvise.”
“What are you talking about?” Emily demanded.
“This is going to sound crazy,” Dean began, and explained exactly what was going on.
“So my Aunt Stacey and Uncle Harley have been sacrificing people?” Emily demanded in disbelief.
“Well, not just them,” Dean replied. “The sheriff is obviously involved, so probably all the prominent members of the town. If they aren't directly involved, they know what is going on.”
“But why lock us up?”
“I stopped this years sacrifices form being taken. They want to appease Vanir, so go with plan 'B',” Dean said. “I'm sorry that you're caught up in this.”
“It's not your fault,” Emily replied. “Is there any way to stop it?”
“We need to find Vanir's anchor,” Dean replied. “Is there a special tree in the orchard?”
“Yeah,” Emily replied. “They called it the Mother Tree. They said it came from a cutting from a tree in the orchard where they immigrated from.”
“We need to destroy that tree,” Dean told her.
Emily nods, her face set with grim determination. “How?”
Before Dean can answer the door to their prison is opened and six people, including Emily's aunt and uncle are there, with guns. “Come quietly and we won't hurt you,” Aunt Stacey said.
Dean raised his hands in surrender. There were just too many people with guns. The chances of Emily getting hurt were just too high and he didn't relish the idea of trying to escape with a concussion. After they were taken to the orchard and secured to a couple of trees. Emily tried one more time to appeal to her family.
“Uncle Harley, please,” Emily said, tears in her eyes. “Please let us go.”
“I'm so sorry, Emily,” he had tears in his eyes as well. “I've loved you like a daughter. It's just...” he trailed off.
“For the good of the town, sacrifices have to be made,” Aunt Stacey said firmly. She grabbed her husband and force him to walk away. The rest of the townsfolk followed.
“I hope your apple pie is frickin' worth it!” Dean shouted a their backs.
“So how do we get out of here?” Emily asked.
“I'm working on it,” Dean replied as he frantically worked on the ropes. After over an hour of tugging his wrists were raw and bleeding. Which sucked because it hurt. He felt the rope had gone a little slack. He moved his hand, pulling down, forcing the rope to stretch as he did so. The move cut the circulation to his hand until he relaxed. He kept doing it, until he felt something give and a loop around his wrist was now just above his knuckles.
“Are you still working on it?” Emily asked.
“Yep.”
“Any luck?”
“A little.”
“Do me a favor,” Emily replied. “Work faster. I think I heard something moving.”
“Okay,” Dean said, panting from the pain. “I have a job for you.”
“Oh yeah? What?”
“Tell yourself over and over in your head, that you don't like me and you would never sleep with me.” Dean replied.
“What?”
“This thing wants couples. The sacrifices have all been intimate.” Dean worked his hand free and unbuttoned his sleeve with his teeth in order to get to the wrist sheath where he had a small knife. As soon as he had it he started slicing the ropes to free himself. “We aren't a couple. We might have thought about it, but we aren't intimate. Maybe this thing feeds on that connection, if we're lucky, it won't see us as a snack.”
“I'll try anything at this point,” Emily replied. Dean was on his knees next to her, frantically cutting the ropes away to free her.
“Can you walk?” Dean asked.
“Screw walking, I'm running,” Emily said and they headed for the edge of the trees.
“Freeze!” A voice shouted and Dean and Emily found themselves at gunpoint once again.
“Emily please,” Harley said sadly. “You have to let it take you.”
“If you don't the whole town will suffer,” Stacey said.
“The whole town. Meaning you, personally, will suffer,” Dean growled at her. “I hear you talking about a greater good, but I don't see you giving anything up. I don't see you walking out into this orchard to be the sacrifice. You don't care who dies so long as you reap the benefits.”
“We've carried out our sacred duty for years,” Stacey rounded on Dean. “How dare you, unbeliever, judge our commitment.”
A scythe blade pierced through Harley's chest from behind. Blood ran down his stomach even as he tried to scream in pain and fear. Stacey screamed for them both as Vanir grabbed a hold of her by the hair and dragged them both effortlessly into the darkness. Dean's first instinct was to chase after the creature and save the couple, but they were already gone. He felt Emily tug his arm and he turned with her and ran out of the orchard. The men and women that had been their captors had fled and were long gone.
The next morning, Emily and Dean walked through the orchard. No one in the town would look at them as they gathered supplies for what they were about to do. With a sacrifice accepted, the town should prosper for another year. Dean hoped they were able to live with themselves.
At the center of the orchard, they found the sacred tree, it had ribbons other small decorations tied to it as well as runic carvings on the trunk. It was an old tree, at least a half a century. Dean wondered to himself how long the sacrifices had been going on. In a way it didn't matter, it ended here and now.
Emily set down the gas can and stared at the tree. “So this is it? We kill this tree and it stops.”
“It should,” Dean assured her. “I'll come back next year, just in case.”
“Okay.” She opened the spout for the gas and carried the can to the tree.
“You realize if you do this, the town will die,” Dean said. He felt she needed to know the truth.
“Good.” She replied and poured the gasoline all over the trunk and into the roots around the tree.
Dean handed her a road flare and picked up one himself. “Shall we?”
He lit his flare and waited for Emily to do the same. Together they dropped the flares against the trunk and stood back as the gasoline caught and the tree erupted into flames. They stood there watching it burn for a long time. Emily walked away, headed for her own car, she would pack her belongings and leave Burkittsville as soon as possible. She turned eighteen in a month, a life insurance policy that had been put in trust for her would be available then. She was going to use that money to build a life away from this place.
Dean watched her go and called Bobby on his cell. “Singer Salvage.”
“Hey, Bobby.”
“Dean, I've been waiting for you to call me back,” Bobby replied. “How'd it go?”
“Taken care of,” Dean replied. He stood near the pole where the scarecrow had hung but it was empty. “I can safely say Vanir is gone.”
“That's good to hear,” Bobby sighed with relief. “Any casualties?”
“Just the people in charge of the sacrifices,” Dean replied. “Vanir's last victims.”
“That's something at least,” Bobby replied. “So what are your plans now?”
“I'm a little banged up,” Dean admitted, looking at his bandaged wrists. “I'm headed back to you for some rest. We need to write this mess down.”
“I'll have dinner waiting for you,” Bobby promised. “Come on home.”
End