Celtic R. Singer Chapter 2

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The room was full of bad music, smoke, drunks, and pretty women. This was where all of the victims were just before they ‘killed’ themselves. I had already interviewed the families and friends, they reported nothing unusual in any of them before they were killed.

I picked up my drink and held it to my lips as someone sat down next to me.

“You, uh, come here often?” He asked.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see brown hair and blue eyes. Another idiot who’s failing in his attempt to pick me up.

“Not anymore.” I replied.

“How come?” He asked.

“You’re here now.” I told him a smirk pulling on my lips to see a frown pulling at his features.

“Maybe we started off on the wrong foot.” He said, “I’m Dean.”

“And I’m non of your business.” I told him and got up.

“Oh come on don’t be like that.” He said, “You ever kissed an F.B.I. agent?”

I knew he was bluffing, “Why would I want to kiss one of my colleges?” I asked him.

His face fell, “You’re a Fed?”

I nodded and pulled out my badge to show him, as I placed a ten on the bar.

“I’m here investigating the recent spikes in suicide.” I told him.

“I like you’re tip.” The bar waitress said coming about to pick up my ten and my empty cup.

“I liked my waitress.” I told her.

She smiled and turned away.

I slid my leather jacket on and said, “It was nice talking to you Dean.”

“You too.” He said like he should be somewhere else.

I walked out with a smirk on my face. Another notch in my belt.

I sat in my car and opened up my laptop. I was going to stake the place out for a little while. I checked into the history of the bar, the employes, and that dean guy. But without his last name it was near impossible.

It was almost midnight when the place closed down. My sight showed me nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing. No one rushing, no one taking too much of their time, no one acting odd, except for drunks stumbling out the door.

I sighed and turned on my car. I was going head back to my motel, but my growling stomach had other ideas for me. At midnight not restaurants were open. But thank goodness for convenience stores.

After grabbing three sandwiches, four bags of chips, two bottles of soda, and a handful of candy bars I was headed back to look over evidence.

Nothing was making sense right now. They were all either drained for hung, and there weren’t any teeth marks to suggest vampires, or sulphur to suggest ghosts. There wasn’t any demon activity around to suggest that, but I did leave one thing out.

I threw the bag of Doritos off of my laptop and started searching for witch rituals that needed blood, death, males, and cassava.

There was one, and it was coming up soon. This sabbath was going to be big, they needed 13 victims, and they already had ten.

Without hesitating I picked up my phone and called Bobby.

“Cel?” He asked like he just woke up, “What’s wrong?”

“Austen, Texas.” I told him, “Get your ass down here as soon as you can, Bobby. Witches are brewing something big, and I don’t think I can stop this myself.”

“What are we talking?” He asked fully awake now.

“A sabbath.” I told him, “One that isn’t friendly like Halloween, or the spring equinox.”

“What kind?” He asked.

“One that requires men between the ages of eighteen and twenty four, lots of death, lot’s of blood, and an edible root called cassava.” I told him, “I’ll fill you in completely on what I have when you get here.”

“I’ll be there soon as I can.” He told me, “Until then there are two hunters in town with you right now.” I raised an eyebrow, “They’re brother’s, names are Sam and Dean Winchester. I’ll call them and have them meet up with you, oh and Cel?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to them. They lost their ma too.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’ll try.” I told him, “See ya soon.”

“Bye.”

I hug up and decided that now would be a good time to get a little shut eye. It had been a long day.

—-

I was leaning on my Chevy waiting for these two outside a dinner. Bobby called me this morning and said they were going to meet me here at nine am. It was already ten and they were no where in sight. I sighed again and about to leave when I head someone yelling at someone else.

“This is your fault!”

“How is it my fault?”

“You took forever in your shower, and now we’re late! Bobby warned us about ticking her off.”

“Hey, if she get’s pissed at us I’ll put her in her place. No woman can tell me what to do- Sweet car!”

I looked over my shoulder at him and rolled my eyes, neither could see it because I was wearing my sunglasses.

“Thanks Dean.” I said and smirked, “You find another girl to bang last night?”

“You’re the other hunter that’s here?” He asked.

I nodded, “And I guess you are too. How you guys know Bobby anyway?”

“he was a good friend of our dad’s.” The tall one said.

“Okay if this idiot is Dean, that means you’re Sam right?” I asked and he nodded.

“And you are?” He asked politely, “A girl that’ll put you in your place if you think you can put me in mine.”

Sam chuckled lightly knowing I heard his brother’s comment. Dean on the other hand scowled at him and I.

“Name’s Celtic.” I told them, “Celtic Singer.”

“You’re Bobby’s girl?” Dean asked.

“Adopted anyway.” I told him.

“Must be a little confusing having a name like that.” Sam told me, “Celtic as in a celtic witch.”

“And then mine has the S sound instead of the K.” I nodded,”You don’t realize how much I got bullied just for that.”

“And now you’re saving their asses, it’s ironic.” Dean said.

“You guys hungry?” I asked, “Personally I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Sam said.

We went in and got a booth at the very back of the restaurant. I sat on one side with my back to the wall, Sam and Dean were across from me with their backs to everyone else.

We ordered, and when the waitress left to put them in did we talk.

“A lot of food for a little girl don’t you think?” Dean teased about my order.

“High metabolism, and a big appetite.” I told him, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Sam coughed and I turned my attention to him, “So do you have so far?”

I explained to them everything I had so far; from the draining to the lacerations, deaths posed as suicides, witches and the sabbath that’s right around the corner.

“That’s all I got so far.” I told them.

“Do you know what that sabbath is for?” Sam asked.

I nodded and pulled out my laptop, “I came across this while researching.” I turned it to show them, “I think this might be why they’re doing it.”

“This is a legend!” Dean argued.

“So are ghosts, and gnomes, and vampires, and werewolves, and witches. What’s your point?” I asked him.

“Avassac, Celtic goddess of the roots, once fell from her position when she fell in love with a mortal man. He promised her love and happiness, but in the end left her for his promised wife. This left Avassac pertrived-literally-and it’s said that only the blood of her true love can raise her back from her current form.”

“Avassac?” Dean asked.

“Cassava backwards.” I told him, and pulled the computer back seeing the waitress come with our order.

“Thank you.” I said as she set it all down.

“So what do you think we should do?” Sam asked me, “I mean this was your case, right?”

I smiled a little at him, boy was he sweet.

“I say we eat, keep on eye out for strange activity, take shifts patrolling the town for more murders, and when Bobby shows up, fill him in.” I told them, “What?” I snarled at Dean.

“That’s you’re master plan?” He barked back.

I rolled my eyes, “No, my master plan is to kill all the witches that are in attendance of the sabbath, and save the kid that’s this guy’s descendant.” I growled back, “But until that time comes, all of us have our hand tied, so we just need to stop any other sacrifices these bitches are gonna do.”

Dean shrunk back in his spot, and Sam looked at me amazed. I shrugged as I dug into my hash brown.

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Celtic R. Singer

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I pulled up to the police station in my 57 candy red Chevy convertible. I had the top up so I looked professional. With my sunglasses still on I scanned over the area, nothing was unusual. I made my way up the steps and pulled open the glass door. As I walked up to the front desk I pulled off my sunglasses revealing chilling teal eyes.

“May I help you?” The officer behind the desk asked me.

I reached into my blazer pocket and pulled out my badge.

“I’m agent Mitchell,” I told him, “I’m here to see the sheriff.”

He nodded, “Please wait here a moment.”

I nodded as he left, I looked around the room. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Cops filling things, and doing paperwork, people coming with complaints. If only they knew.

“Agent Mitchell.” The sheriff came out and shook my hand.

“Hello sheriff.”

“Please, step into my office.” He led me to a small room in the back and closed the door behind me. In it was a desk and three chairs, one for him, and two on the other side of the desk for company, there were many trinkets and do dad’s on his desk and his shelves were lined with trophies.

“Please sit down.” He said as he went behind his desk, I sat down in the chair on the right and crossed my legs, “So what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me about the resent murders occurring around here the past few weeks.” I started.

He chuckled a little bit as he leaned back into his chair, “I hardly see as this is any concern of the F.B.I.” He told me.

“We’d just like to look into this to make sure there was nothing this department couldn’t handle.” I assured.

“It wasn’t murder.” He told me leaning forward, “It was suicide.”

“Suicide?” I asked.

He nodded, “All of the victims were either drained of blood by cuts on their wrists or hung themselves.”

It was my turn to nod, “And all of these victims were male, as I understand?”

He nodded, “All between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four.”

I nodded, “Sheriff, it’s not too much trouble, would it be possible for me to see some of the bodies?”

He chuckled again, “Sure, I can take you down right now.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

I pulled my long, curly, dirty blonde hair into a pony tail as the doctor pulled out the most recent victim.

He pulled back the white sheet, and instantly I had to cover my nose. I had sharper senses then most, hearing and smell were my highest developed.

“This one was a strange one.” The doctor told me, “Not only were there lacerations on the wrist,” Red and purple bruises covered both of his wrists, “And his neck,” The same marks were apparent there, “But what was really interesting was that he didn’t go the same way the rest of them did.”

“How did he die?” I asked.

“Well, I’m sure you already got a whiff of it, but that’d be oven cleaner, and cassava.”

“cassava?” I asked.

He nodded, “It was the bitter one of the two roots,” He told me.

“If not prepared right it could be poisonous.” I finished.

He nodded, “That’s right.”

“If this were suicide, then why does he have lacerations and all the others don’?” I asked.

The doctor shrugged, “He could have tried a few different ways to kill himself, and then decided on poison.”

“One more question.” He looked at me intently, “Poison is one of the most painful ways to die, so why would someone wishing to escape pain put himself through more of it just to die?”

He shrugged, “I couldn’t tell you that, detective. The only one that could would be the one on the table in front of you.”

I nodded, “If it’s alright I’d like a copy of all the other biopsies.”

I walked out met the sheriff right outside the door.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked me.

I nodded, “A list of all the family members, co-workers, and friends you have on all the victims. Along with birth and family records, along with anything else you have on them.”

“I can have them ready for you at the station for when we get back.” He told me.

“Thank you, sheriff.” I said and shook his hand again.

I grabbed the reports and went straight to the station. After receiving about thirty pounds of paper from the secretary there I headed back to my motel room.

I unlocked the door carrying in, I don’t know how much and dumped that on the bed. I pulled my hair down and took off my blazer and blouse leaving me in only my black tank top and dark grey slacks. I picked up my cell phone and grabbed a phone book.

After ordering Pizza I set out to work.

 

Happy(Late) 2014!

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Welp, this is my first post of the new year, and it being so I feel the need to let you all know exactly what’s going to be going on. I will continue to post things on my quizilla account(in case any of you bothered to check that out), and will hopefully be updating this fairly regularly. Anyway, this being the new year and not even half way through January yet, I feel it’s best to let you know I have exams coming up, meaning I have to study. And next semester I’ll be taking French, so please bare with me until things slow down. Also! It is not my fault for any form of writer’s block that comes my way, as I have had for the longest of time.

On to my next topic!

I have started watching Supernatural with my sister. And I’ll be honest and say I really like the show. A lot. Probably more then I should. . . maybe.

Anyway’s I was going to write an arc suronding that. And no, for any of you familiar with the show, this will not be a love story between my OC and one of the brothers. I’ll end up writing it, and here for sure, you’ll see what I mean when I get there.

Also! I’m slightly upset with the lack of requests, my e-mail is their people, and I’ve been getting spammed for it!

But a minor thing, and I think that’s it. yeah. . .