HUNTER'S JOURNAL:
SHADOWS ON A BARREN WALL
SUPERNATURAL
vol 1. seasons 1 : 3

alone in the house at midnight

by t.a. johnson

˖⁺ 🪦⋆ ୭ ⚖️.⋆｡⋆🕸༶🔦˙⊹

━━━━━

the light from the mirror casts
shadows of black, and when i
stared at those shadows, the
shadows stared back.

the walls have ears and the
mirrors have eyes, and they
both whiser truth and lies.

they whisper to the spider
and they laugh at the fly,
saying one will live and the
other will die. with screams
and shouts like a pouring rain,
that comes from a place of
roaring pain.

but the walls have ears,
and the mirrors have eyes,
and whether you're the spider,
or whether you're the fly,
one must live and the other
must die.

and as light from the mirror
casts shadows of black, i
smiled at the shadows and
the shadows smiled back.

━━

-ˋˏ ༻ ⛥ ༺ ˎˊ-

          EVERY OLD TOWN HAS GHOSTS.

In most cases, those ghosts are nothing short of tall tales. Yarns spun up and perfected over decades to milk every dime, dollar, and sense of dignity from tourists and keep the youth porch bound after sundown.

Other times, they're real.

Those instances are rarer——at least to the untrained eye.

The spook, spectre, poltergeist, wraith, phantasma, apparition——whatever fits the bill-is on the top ten most sighted.

But, if none of those rign a bell, try: ghost. A being trapped Earth bound by otherworldly devices.

Usually, Ghosts [ if you dare call them as such ] are found to be relatively neutral on the terror spectrum. If, and only if they're the kind that will live silent alongside you for decades without a murmur, or domestically without an inkling of aggression——the type that might happen to forget to turn the hallway light off, or step lightly on that singular squeaky step we are all frightening familiar with.

Luckily for most nonbelievers. Ghosts can be debunked easily enough. Even if the hauntings are truly factual.

Scientists have done it for a millenia.

Energy spikes can be caulked up to be a range of things, from the Earth's techtonic plates shifting, to a simple tweak of human emotion.

Not all monsters are ghosts.

Bigfoot, though a completely man-msde hystera is undoubtedly an inebriated man dressed up in a gorilla suit, like a typical childhood Scooby-Doo villain. The Wendigo? A falsity park rangers and bored tour guides created to rack up the money flow to tourist traps——an all-to-familiar ploy to make bunco-bucks, get noticed, or be the next girl on local news who cried wolf....or in supernatural instance....werewolf.

Out of all the worlds seemingly unexplainable mysteries and apparitional oddities. The Butler murders were one of those that left authorities scratching the backs of their necks.

Can't science out of this one can you?

The quaint Appalachain town had spirits——whether they were placed in the deceased or drunk category was another inquiry hung by a red pin onto the corkboard.

But nevertheless, people talk, they always do. About the weather, the lake, the old mine that sits abandoned at the near-peak of the surrounding foothills. They murmur on about the years that trickle by and the blood that belongs to an unidentifiable body splayed out underneath a thick viney pit of kudzoo.

People talk. Clara Emery just wishes she was never privvy to most of the hushed conversation.

It's the talking that gets the legends started and fuels the fire.

It's the listening that opens up ones primal urge to solve the puzzle.

           YEARS PRIOR, the local Butler newspaper had written an article in a back column overlooked by missing pets and the occasional Watauga lake drowing, on the horror that struck the unincorporated town in the chime of the midnight hour.

Decades worth of names scribbled on spreadsheets dating back to the late 1800s were labeled as cold cases. Dead ends. No further evidence. Unsolvable crimes that would happen time after time, and remain unsolved due to the lack of reliable evidence.

Clara Emery has her doubts, as do most. She has seen the pictures, analyzed the evidence available to the public. She has cycled through article after article to see if she too, fits the odd ball victims the Butler Butcher seemingly picks at random.

She should know better. Nothing is ever as random as it seems. Not even the drop of a hat.

And still, the mystery is left cold as the pickaxe that finishes out the haunts deed.

Every two decades mounds of former townsfolk and tourists lay splayed across the foothills. Gaping holes running straight through their spines, skulls, and abdomens-its gruesome, bloody, downright diabolical.

Previous novice digging done by nosey tourists and fed up neighbors has only seemed to end up triggering a domino effect by the next rollover.

Instead of the usual handful of corpses, a bakers dozen is strewn across the Appalachain foothills. There's no note, no "this is why I've done it", just carnage.

People fear what they do not know.

People fear more what they can not see.

The worst part is not the murders or the hodge podge witness coming forth to speak their peace, it's the fact that there is no one to pin the blame on——save for the alleged ghost that locals claim to have been the cause of the horror flick worthy events every few decades.

          WHY WOULD the past hold any difference from the present day?

History often enjoys repeating itself. As it had shown proudly from textbooks and crinkled pages of old. If digging into the town lore had only furthered the murders, but ironically, could lead to the case solvent, what was one left to do but pry?

It's natural for humans to inquire.

The instinct is ingrained in us since birth. From sticking a Lego man's head up the nose to seeing what a fork in the light socket will lead to, humans long for more.

More information, more truth, more of any inkling of a thing able to fuel our animalistic consumption and need for awnsers.

It was the need for more that led Clara Emery and Patsy Preston to discover the hidden truths about their small town.

That, and the two sons of the infamous John Winchester who happen to roll into town on the flip of a dime, like clockwork.

These massacres are not any old serial murder sprees like the reports scratch it off to be. They're something darker. Primal and raw. Roped off to the common folk with haphazardly strewn caution tape and stapled with "no trespassing" signs——awaiting the next curious soul to dare defile the rules jotted down and put into play by the authorities on both our side and the other of the spiritual veil.

          WHEN A series of pre-meditated murders strike the town once more, Clara Emery and Patsy Preston [ with the help of the Winchester boys ] begin to tie up the loose ends left by their fathers, and finish the decade long puzzle John Winchester and Mark Emery had never been able to conclude for themselves.

And for this new generation of meddling misfits, it's only the beginning.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
-ˋˏ ༻ ⛥ ༺ ˎˊ-

━━━━━

˖⁺ 🪦⋆ ୭ ⚖️.⋆｡⋆🕸༶⋆🔦˙⊹

━━━━━

PLAYLIST

I. hearing damage ━━ thom yorke. II. as it was ━━ harry styles. III. transgender ━━ crystal castles. IV. the chauffeur ━━ duran duran. V. bad moon rising ━━ creedence clearwater revival. VI. dark red ━━ steve lacy. VII. when you were young ━━ the killers. VIII. bullet with butterfly wings ━━ the smashing pumpkins. IVX. hell's coming with me ━━ poor man's poison. VX. the funeral ━━ band of horses. XVI. change ━━ deftones. XVII. little dark age ━━ mgmt. XVIII. hunter's moon ━━ ghost. XIX. darkness at the heart of my love ━━ ghost. XX. you've got to hide your love away ━━ eddie vedder. XXI. ain't talkin' 'bout love ━━ van halen. XXII. miracles out of knowhere ━━ kansas. XXIII. burnin' for you ━━ blue öyster cult. XXV. follow you down ━━ gin blossoms. XXVI. comfortably numb ━━ pink floyd. XXVII. (don't fear) the reaper ━━ blue öyster cult. XXVIII. call me little sunshine ━━ ghost. XXIX. rise ━━ eddie vedder. XXX. witch image ━━ ghost.

━━━━━

˖⁺ 🪦⋆ ୭ ⚖️.⋆｡⋆🕸༶⋆🔦˙⊹

━━━━━

CAST & SUPPORTING ROLES

"THE SCOOBY GANG"

katherine langford as clara emery
karen gillan as patsy preston

jensen ackles as dean winchester
jared padalecki as sam winchester

&

walker scobell as emmett emery
kat dennings as madison emery

mark wahlburg as marcus emery
reese witherspoon as lois farrell-emery
jeffery dean morgan as john winchester

━━━━━

˖⁺ 🪦⋆ ୭ ⚖️.⋆｡⋆🕸༶⋆🔦˙⊹

━━━━━

ᛜ ━━━━ -ˋˏ ༻ ⛥ ༺ ˎˊ- ━━━━ ᛜ
/
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♱

I. 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.

this book is rated PG14 for death, gore,
profanity,
and the basis of the supernatural universe.

𝑰𝑰. 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

i own no other than my ocs, non-
canon
facts, scenes written by yours truly, &
any
fictional places which may pop up in
this
work of fiction. this plot and any ocs
which
belong to me are not to be used unless
i
give permission.

𝑰𝑰𝑰. 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒.

STARTED: 4/17/22
FINISHED: ongoing.
COVER: cavalrylads - me.
LAYOUT: cavalrylads - me.
PLOT: cavalrylads & HeavensMostWanted-

𝑰𝑽. 𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄.

ᛜ︒✧ﾟ◦˳- hunter's journal: shadows on a barren wall is a companion piece to "hunter's journal: miles to go" by HeavensMostWanted-.

𝑽. 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

For HeavensMostWanted- ( my Patsy )
because on November 4th, 2020 ( we've definitely known eachother longer than that though ) I spontaneously messaged you for a reason I can't exactly recall. And on April 17, 2022 we officially decided to sit down and plan this fic together and create our mini-me's.
Love you,
-- Dumbass.

p.s. i'm ( not ) wearing socks.
[ muhahaha ]

Pals!

-Winchessster docshollidaze princesscamillia13 MagicElfMaiden curiass munsonsss m0mmat0rtle DeanmonLover67 goldenchariots nightmelody- carIossainz ollyoxenfrees coast_by_coast Biggirl568 decapiitare pedrosbitch_ RustySunInDelphi

-ˋˏ ༻ ⛥ ༺ ˎˊ-