I'll Tell You My Sins so You Can Sharpen Your Knife

Dean slammed the car door shut. “We’re just here to see if she really has something bad on her hands. If not, we go right back to where Kevin is.”

“Uhuh.” Sam said. “Right.”

“What?”

“Come on, Dean. You don’t drive halfway across the country for just anyone.”

“She came in a dream, Sam. She thinks it’s important.”

“Right.”

They walked into the small tavern and looked around. The small brunette waved at them from a small secluded booth. A pile of paperwork sat at her elbow, and she was heartily digging into a burger and curly fries. A half drank Guinness sat in front of her.

“Heavy meal.” Sam observed as the brothers slid into the booth across from her.

“It is so good, though.” She said, swallowing. “Get the Bourbon Burger. It has homemade whiskey cheese on it and I swear, if I go to heaven and they don’t have this, I’m going downstairs voluntarily.”

“Do witches go to heaven?” Dean asked.

Sarah looked at her watch. “Wow, Dean. A full minute before you insulted me. That’s a new record!”

A waitress came over. “Can I get you anything?”

“Same as her.” Sam said.

Dean sighed. “Make that two.”

Sarah smirked and crunched on her pickle. Sam asked how her new house was, and Dean took advantage of the moment to study her. Honestly, she looked a bit of a mess. She was wearing her glasses instead of her contacts. Instead of her typical nice clothes, she was wearing ripped jeans and a large NHL t-shirt. She must have spent all day driving to get here.

“What’s the plan, Sarah?” Sam asked.

“I’ve got rooms for us at a motel just up the street.” She dug in her purse and handed them each a key for the same room. “I’m right next door in 29. We should only be here a few days.”

“What are we working with?”

She bit her lip and waited until the waitress dropped off their beers. She took a long drink of her own.

As soon of the waitress was out of earshot, Sarah pushed her glasses further up her nose. “So, as far as I can tell, this thing is brand new. Sort of. I think Eve created it when she was still around.”

“Then what’s all this?” Sam asked, lifting the print outs.

“Well, she wasn’t really original. I think she did a Google search of urban legends and saw the scariest thing humanity could come up with in 3,000 years.”

“The Slender Man.” Sam read.

“The what?” Dean asked.

“It’s sort of an internet thing.” Sarah pulled a pile of research towards herself and started to hand each of the boys pages. “Psychological effects, like a wraith. Stalks victims, but they’re the only ones who can see him. Drives them insane. Then leads them into the forest to cut out their hearts.” She reached under her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Well, no, what he does is much, much worse. But you get the idea.”

“How come this hasn’t come up before?” Sam asked.

“Well.” Sarah said, dumping vinegar on her French fries. “It honestly took me forever to sort this one out. The Slender Man is what teenagers claim killed their friends when things get out of hand on Halloween. I honestly only just finished sorting out actual victims.”

“How do we kill it?” Dean asked.

“Barbarian. Killing the first thing on your mind.”

“We’re hunters, Sarah. Don’t give me the PETA-granola crap.”

“Okay.” Sam sighed. “Both of you, calm down. Sarah, what can we do?”

She smiled grimly and sipped her beer. “Ever hear of a necromancer’s bells?”

The group fell silent as the waitress dropped off their plates.

“You’re a chatty bunch.” She grinned. “Got secrets, huh?”

Sarah stared into her eyes. “Leave us alone.”

The waitress stiffened, then turned and walked away.

“What was that for?” Dean hissed across the table. “You put a spell on her, didn’t you?”

“Shut up Dean. She was about to call the cops on us. Eat your damn food.”

“Necromancer’s bells, Sarah.” Sam said, squeezing ketchup on his fries. “What are they?”

She took Dean’s print outs and flipped through the pages. “Seven bells that can control death.”

“Why seven? And are we talking about Death the entity or death as in…”

“Death the place.” Sarah confirmed. “Why seven? There’s seven gates to death. Everyone knows that.”

“No, there aren’t.” Dean drawled. “I’ve been dead a lot. Never seen any gates.”

“Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” She didn’t look at him. Just flipped through the pages. “Most people don’t see the gates. They go through in shock And you probably take shortcuts like a hellhound, mostly. It’s different.”

“How does it work?” Sam asked.

“Well, the theory is that it’s a lot like a river. The further you go the stronger the pull. The gates are easy enough to go through, but hard to go the other way. Certain things, strong things, can fight their way up. Especially if they’re being called.”

“Called?”

“By a necromancer.” She found the right page and handed it across the table to the brothers. “But you can sometimes send those things back. Or, in our case, trap them.”

“Why do we want to trap it?” Sam asked.

Sarah sighed. “Think. Imagine if Crowley got his hands on this thing. He could start using it to torture people for the last year of their deal. Make victory all the sweeter. It’s much better to trap it.”

“She’s right.” Dean said, begrudgingly as he flipped through her print outs. “This thing is absolutely nasty. We don’t want it in the wrong hands. Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, it’s safer here.”

“You’ve used this bell magic before?” Sam asked.

“Well, no.”

“Then how do you know how to use it?”

“Because I know things. I’ve spent the last few years studying everything I can get my hands on. Trust me. I can do it.”

“What do we use as bait?” Dean asked.

“Well, that’s where you two come in. This thing feeds on misery. Goes after people who have suffered a great personal loss. You boys reek of it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Don’t you have dead parents too?”

“I hated my mother. That was no loss. My father had his memory wiped by Cass and is living with a woman he believes to be his first wife and her daughter Liz. I prepared for that loss.” She wrinkled her nose. “Besides, I highly doubt I’d be noticed next to you.”

“So you called us here to use us as bait while you rang some bells? Why don’t you just give us the bells and let us take care of it?”

“Because, Dean, the bells will only work if the user is focused. There’s too much of a chance he’d target you both at the same time. But he won’t pay attention to me.”

“Sarah.” Sam sighed. “Cass will kill us for letting you do this.”

“Do either of you know how to use a necromancer’s bells? No. I didn’t think so.” She scowled. “Besides, I thought Cass was dead. At least, according to Sam.”

“He’s not.” Dean said glumly. “He lost his memory. When he got it back he took Sam’s insanity for him. He’s in a psych ward right now.”

“And you were going to tell me this when exactly?”

“You were the one convinced he was still alive in the first place.” Sam muttered. "And we sort of thought he would have found a way to tell you."

Sarah scowled and stood. “I’m getting another drink. If you don’t want to help me, sorry for wasting your time.”

The brothers looked at each other.

“She’s a witch.” Dean said. “She should be able to do this by herself.”

“She’s right though.” Sam muttered. “It would be too risky for her to do it alone. This way, it will work.”

Dean groaned and shook his head. “If this one doesn’t kill us, I don’t know what will.”