Scary Just Got Sexy

[Natalie Brice]

I wrote this fanfiction a few weeks ago and decided to share it with all of you! If you're too excited to wait for me to post the remainder of the chapters, you can find the rest on my account at www.fanfiction.net/~kwiditchjunkie.
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Chapter 1: The Queen

Long Beach, California

One week ago

“Shut up, Steve. We’ll get caught,” the 16 year old boy hissed over his shoulder as he lead the way down a long narrow corridor.

The other boy, Steve, ignored him and kept arguing with him, “Why are we even here, Dan! We’re supposed to be back at the hotel with the rest of the class. If we don’t leave now, they’ll know we’re gone sooner or later.”

“Aw come on, man,” said Zach, the last boy in the group. He chuckled and punched Steve teasingly in the shoulder. “We’ll just take a quick look around and then we’ll leave. No one will even notice.”

“That’s not it,” Steve said. “This place gives me the creeps at night.”

Dan gave an exaspirated sigh and said, “Listen. Nothing’s going to get you. I just want to prove the legends are true! Besides... maybe Tiffany will finally notice me now. If we go in and get that bathtowel like I promised, no doubt she’ll go out with me! She’s pretty, she’s got a great body, and she’s rich not to mention.”

“You know that sounds so dumb coming from you... Probably from anyone really,” Zach said, chuckling.

“Shut up,” Dan snapped, getting annoyed. He raised the flashlight higher over his head and trekked onward down the hallway.

Before long, a thick steel door seperated the boys from the room beyond.

“This is it,” Dan said, grabbing the handle and tugging it open. The heavy door creaked open with a sound of metal on metal until it was far enough to be squeezed through.

Steve took a deep shuddering breath as he looked into the pitch black room, “Here goes nothing.”

He stepped through and the other two followed with upmost attentive hearing. Now was the time to be scared. If Steve was nervous before, this room should have brought it upon all three of them by now.

The pool room of the Queen Mary is by far the most haunted part of the floating museum. Infamous for being a hang out for ghosts, tours and various other tourist attractions now keep the old ship alive.

The three boys stepped into the pool room, their steps echoing around the massive area.

“Whoa,” was all that Dan said, shining his flashlight over the walls.

“Come on, can we just go back now? I’d like to be sleeping right about now,” Steve complained.

Zach, meanwhile, was busy venturing further into the pool room and leaning over the pools edge to look into the empty pit.

“Lemme find that towel, alright?” Dan said, moving over to the towel rack and pulling a white towel from the top. He held it up and saw the Queen Mary insignia on the corner and folded it up, putting it into this coat pocket.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, walking back over to the others.

Suddenly, he slipped on something on the floor and fell flat on his back on the cold tile. With a groan, he rolled over and lifted his head a few inches off the floor. The breath had been knocked out of him and it took him a while to reply to his friend’s calls.

“I’m fine,” he stammered, getting to his knees, clutching his chest.

He glared at the tile, embarrassed at his own misfortune. Something caught his eye on the floor that made him pause for a moment. Leaning forward ever so slightly, he saw the glimmer of water on the tile before him. “What the hell?”

Tilting his head ever so slightly to the left, he directed the light at an angle and saw a trail of water foot prints leading from the pool to the shower house. Confused, Dan furrowed his eyebrows and slowly got to his feet.

“This pool hasn’t been filled in years...” he said to his friends who had come over to help him up.

Suddenly, the sound of shower nozels echoed around the room. All boys stared at the shower room and saw steam billowing out of the open and fully illuminated doors. Their hearts jumped up into their throats in an instant at the sound of a woman’s voice floating around them, humming a melancholy tune.

“Dan? Can we please go now?” Steve pleaded.

Dan didn’t say anything, he just stared at the showers, the lights reflected upon his eyes like hypnotic orbs.

“Yeah... yeah. Let’s move,” Zach said, tugging on Dan’s sleeve and walking back towards the doors. But Dan didn’t move. He stayed, staring at the showers, his eyes half closed in a dazed kind of expression.

“Hey man! Let’s get out of here!” Zach shouted. But Dan ignored him, or rather didn’t hear him.

The two boys faintly heard him whisper, “She’s beautiful.”

“What! DAN! NO WAIT! DAN STOP!” They both shouted as Dan took small, shuffling steps toward the showers.

He grinned lopsidedly as he stared at the empty doorspace, mumbling, “Beautiful... so beautiful... calling... closer...”

In a few seconds Dan disappeared behind the wall into the women’s showers. Once inside, he was suddenly brought back from his trance. Shaking his head, he looked around him but it was impossible to see anything but thick, white steam. “Hello?” he called.

Slowly, he shuffled towards what he thought must have been a wall and put his hands out to stop himself.

Suddenly, he felt someone standing behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned slowly. Before him stood a beautiful woman in a long, flowing grey dress. A dress that matched the very exterior of the Queen Mary. Her wavy blonde hair swept down to her waist and swirled by some unseen force. Her piercing blue eyes looked right through him, like diamonds glistening in the moonlight.

Dan grew red and stammered, “I’m sorry. I must have stumbled in--”

Just then, the woman said something to him but he didn’t hear a word of it. He drowned her out with a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the showers and out into the pool room.

Dan fell limply to the floor. He was dead before he hit the ground. Blood splattered like paint on the wall and slowly smeared down the side, dripping into the bubbles making them seem to glow bright red. Soon a thick trail of red blood flowed like a stream from Dan’s body and severed head through the water from the shower and into the nearby drain. His fingers twitched for a fraction of a second before growing still.

All that remained in the room was the swirling mist, the hissing of the showers, and voices floating in and out, “Dan? Dan? Quit foolin’ around, dude... Dan?”

A lone foot print, left in the pool of blood, was slowly swept away down the drain, swirling through pipes rusted and crusty after many years of rest.
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Las Vegas, Nevada

Present Day

“Haha! Yeah baby!” Dean Winchester shouted, grinning like a million bucks and pumping his fists over his head.

The dealer mumbled quietly, “Bet totals 9,000 dollars.”

Dean put his arms around two pretty girls and they both kissed him on each cheek for good luck.

He rolled the dice again and came up with lucky number seven once more. “I AM GREATNESS PERSONIFIED!” Dean shouted to the ceiling as the crowd erupted in cheers.

The girls squealed as the chips slid over to Dean and he gathered them up. “One for you,” he said, putting a chip in her hand. “And one for you,” he said, giving another to the second. “Later ladies!”

Turning on his heels, he strolled out of the gambling area and cashed in.

Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger and yet much more mature younger brother, sat on the hood of their 1967 Chevy Impala with his arms folded tenaciously on his chest.

“Heheh,” Dean said, coming up behind him and waving the wad of cash in front of Sam’s face, “We actually get to eat real food this week, Sammy!”

“Yeah, yeah, just great,” Sam said, pushing it out of his way and walking to the passenger side of the car.

“You’re just jealous,” Dean said, putting the money in his wallet. Finding that it wound’t close, Dean moved to the trunk and opened it to reveal a crap load of weapons. Guns, axes, pistols, crowbars and any other kind of thing you could imagine.

“Jealous of what? Your stupidity?” Sam asked once Dean sat in the drivers seat.

He smiled falsely at Sam and started up the car. “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin blared as he pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the street.

“So, what did you do while I was in there?” Dean asked, turning down the music for a civilized conversation.

“Well, I was looking through some of the local newspapers and one of them said...” he pulled out a folded newspaper from the dashboard and whipped it open. “It says ‘Local Teen Dies on Queen Mary, Foul Play Suspected’.”

Dean half shook his head, “The Queen Mary. Supposedly the most haunted ship in history... B.S.”

Sam looked shocked, “Dean. You just said it yourself, the Queen Mary is one of the most haunted places in the United States.”

“Yeah? So? After all these years not once has anyone been attacked, or threatened by the ‘ghosts’ of the Queen Mary. Who’s to say that this wasn’t just some freak accident? Nothing paranormal whatsoever.”

Sam laughed disbelievingly, “I don’t believe you. Did we not just have this argument a few weeks ago? Can you just be a little open minded to a new job?”

“I’m just sayin’. These things can be just some huge accident and shouldn’t bother us at all,” Dean said, tongue in cheek.

“This might get your attention,” Sam said. “The kid’s head is missing.”

Dean paused, staring straight ahead. After a second he admitted, “Okay. Now that’s a little weird.”

“Right,” Sam said, shifting in his seat, “How about it?”

“Well,... we’re pretty close to the Californian border. I guess once we cross it we can crash at a motel or something and then start up the day with a trip to...”

“Long Beach, California,” Sam said, folding up the paper. He was smiling in triumph over his brother’s weakness for the supernatural.

“Long Beach, California it is,” Dean said, turning up the volume and accelerating down the dark street toward the border.
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Author's Note: Thank for reading the first chapter! Lots more on the way.

Please review. I'd like a lot of input from all of you.

[Natalie Brice]

Chapter 2: Showdown in the Corridor

“Toss me my bag,” Dean said from the other side of the fence. Sam threw the duffle bag over the top and Dean caught it. Next, Sam scaled the fence as well and landed next to his brother.

It was nearly 11 at night when the Winchesters showed up at the Queen Mary. Hiding the car behind large cargo boxes, the boys prepared for the worst that ghosts could deal out to them. Grabbing a few “supplies” they sneaked around to the stern of the ship that was blocked only by a tall wire fence.

Most of the cops had been distracted by a “distress call” in the area earlier courtesy of Sammy. Now all that remained was a lone squad car and two officers. They leaned on the car hood chatting with each other about their wives and their kids. Too busy chomping down on donuts and coffee they didn’t even take time to realize their surroundings.

“This is too easy,” muttered Dean with a small grin on his face as he pulled out his EMF reader and turned it on. The machine whirred and blipped as it booted up but was silent most of the way to the boarding dock.

Sam trailed behind Dean, keeping his hands firm in his pockets. He stared at the floor in front of him and watched the shadows pass through the beam of his flashlight.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam asked, finally voicing what had been on his mind for quite a while.

“Yeah?” Dean said as he continued staring at his EMF monitor.

“Do you regret it?” Sam stared at the back of Dean’s head, almost as if he could see the answer formulating in his mind.

“Regret what?” Dean finally asked after a moment.

“Being a Hunter. Always following Dad’s orders... Never sleeping a night in your life without a knife under your pillow... Running from the cops--”

Dean turned around and said sternly, “Hell no. I live for this job.” He turned back forward and kept walking down the dock on the Oceanside of the ship.

“Alright,” Sam said, defeated. He decided to drop the subject for a bit. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to ask something like that.

The EMF suddenly squealed and both brothers stopped. Dean moved the monitor to the railing and back to hear the squeal grow louder. He looked over the edge only to see the black water 30 feet below.

He waved the EMF over the nearest wall and it blipped as well.

“That’s weird...” Dean waved the reader all over the dock and windows only to hear the squeal of the alarm.

He smacked the side of the EMF and shook it, “Maybe I broke it...”

“Or,” said Sam, “the spirits of the ship are drowning out the one we’re looking for. This place must be crawling with the dearly departed.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Sammy--”

“It’s Sam,” he interrupted but Dean kept going.

“The only reason why people say this place is haunted is the original owner of the ship created all of these dumb ghost stories to attract people to a run down ship that will never sail the high seas again. All that they care about is tourism.”

Sam sighed and said, “There are dozens of accounts of sightings, possessions, and noises to make any respectable ghost hunter suspicious.”

Dean turned around angrily and shut off the EMF because it was squealing out of control.

Grabbing the flashlight from Sam, Dean led the way into the main hall where the old hotel rooms and compartments used to be.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Sam grew impatient with seeing the same halls over and over.

“The report from the paper said that the accident took place in the pool room,” Sam said, matter-of-factly.

“I know,” Dean snapped.

“Are you lost?” Sam asked.

“No,” Dean said, but Sam knew better.

Dean was lost.

Sam smiled disbelievingly and said as he slowed to a stop, “Alright. I’ll let you figure this out then.”

“Hey. I can’t help it. This place is huge,” Dean said, looking on the doors at the old brass room numbers.

Sam watched Dean for a while before something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He focused his gaze down the hall to see a little boy wearing black knickers and a white shirt. He looked to be no older than 8. His dark hair was disheveled and messy. His dark eyes stared the both of them up and down.

“Dean...” Sam whispered.

“What now!” Dean snapped, agitated with his frustration.

Sam nodded his head down the hall and Dean turned to look in that direction. Immediately, he had his hand on his gun and aimed it at him. He kicked the duffle bag out of his way and tightened his grip upon the handle.

The small child didn’t move a muscle. He only stared at them: a showdown in the corridor.

Silently, the boy turned to his right and disappeared around the corner.

“Let’s go,” Dean said, running after him, his gun still raised.

Sam followed behind, grabbing the duffle bag on the way. Unlike Dean, Sam left his own weapon in his pocket. “Don’t shoot him, Dean,” he warned.

“Why?” Dean asked, jogging down the hall, trying to find a sign of the boy.

“He’s not hurting anyone... at least, not that we know of yet...”

Tearing around the corner, the Winchesters stopped to see the boy standing before a large metal door. Above the entrance was a sign labeled Pool Room.

Sam smiled and thought, He led us straight here... He must’ve been listening to us argue.

Dean quietly pocketed his Desert Eagle and stepped forward. The little boy gave a small smile and suddenly dissipated into darkness.

Sam moved to the door and tugged it open. “No ghosts, huh Dean?”

“Shut your mouth,” Dean grumbled as he stepped through.

Sam shouldered the duffle bag once more and followed his older brother.

Once inside, Sam set the bag down and took out his video camera and set it to night vision. He straightened up and aimed the lens at Dean who was already halfway around the pool.

“Got anything yet?” Sam asked, scanning the wall and floor.

“Nope,” Dean said. But he suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. “Augh... that smells nasty. Sam, come here and check it out.”

Sam walked over and aimed the camera at the floor. He slowly edge the viewfinder towards the pool and stopped.

Dark wads of some unknown goo was laying all over the bottom of the pool.

Sam took a deep breath but immediately coughed, “Wh-What is that!”

“Yeah,” Dean said, covering his nose. “It smells like rotten eggs.”

“Worse,” Sam said.

Rushing over to the swimming pool ladder, Sam descended into the empty pit and Dean tossed him the flashlight.

Walking towards the center of the pool, Sam followed the trail of weird black wads. The path of goo led him to the drain. From there, the foul smell worsened. The gunk radiated from the drain as if someone had taken a plunger to it and left the entrails on the floor.

“I’ll give you 20 bucks if you touch it,” Dean called.

“No way,” Sam said.

He slowly got closer, but covered his nose and mouth from the smell. “It looks like... seaweed...” he said to himself.

“What are you doing in here!” came a shocked voice from above. In a flash, Sam was on his feet and running toward the ladder. Standing in the doorway was one of the officers on his nightly patrol.

“Sonuva...” Dean sprinted around the pool and the cop shouted for him to stop.

Sam scrambled up the ladder and darted for the duffle bag. A shot rang out and Sam instinctively ducked his head. The cop was actually shooting at him!

Pulling out a long stick, Sam raised it above his head and screamed to Dean, “Shut your eyes!”

He cracked the stick and threw it at the officer. There was a small hissing and the stick erupted into bright, blinding light. Dean crawled over to Sam and they both made their escape into the dark hallway.

The magnesium oxide stick left the officer kneeling on the floor, covering his eyes in pain. It wasn’t going to be permanent, but he’d be seeing purple dots for a few hours.
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The Next Day

It was a bright and sunny morning on the coast of Long Beach. It seemed like everyone was out and about that day relaxing in the sun or playing in the cool water.

“This is what I came to this job for,” said Dean. He was sprawled out on his towel, soaking in the sun on his chest. He was in his bathing suit and soaking wet after a quick swim in the water. He had a boom box directly near his head playing “Welcome to Paradise” by Green Day.

“Yeah...” said Sam, distractedly. He was also in his bathing suit but watching others on the shore.

“So, other than the hot chicks and great surf, why are we here?” asked Dean, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I did some investigating last night and dug deeper into the story. Apparently, the kid wasn’t alone. Dan Parks and two other friends, Zach Brice and Steve Gitomer were in the Queen Mary at the time. I got a tip that Zach and his older sister Natalie were going to be here today,” Sam said, still watching people.

“How ‘d you figure that?” Dean asked.

“They live close by. Apparently Natalie is quite the surfing legend here. She’s won a lot of titles in tournaments. They’re probably out here somewhere--”

Sam stopped, watching the water. Dean looked up just in time to see a figure gliding across the water on a surfboard. It banked sharply and jumped over the wake. A huge tube of water suddenly rose from the surface and the figure disappeared inside only moments later to reappear, still standing, on the other side.

“Whoa,” Dean said, sitting up. “She’s amazing.”

The figure steered the board towards shore and laid down on its stomach to paddle back.

Dean and Sam both got up and watched as the person stood up in the shallow water and wadded back to the sand. It was obviously a girl. She wore a blue surf shirt and shorts that fit her slim figure quite nicely. She had her long brown hair tied up into a ponytail and was wringing it out as she slammed her board into the sand.

Sam looked over at Dean and grinned. Dean’s mouth was openly hanging wide in awe. Sam pushed his fingers up on his chin and made him close his mouth.

“Down boy,” Sam said, walking towards the girl.

By now, she had jogged up to a large umbrella set up on the sand and sat down on the open towel next to a boy.

“Hey, Zach,” she said cheerfully, getting a Coke from the cooler.

He didn’t reply, instead he stared at the bright sand in front of him.

She bit her lower lip and said, “Why don’t you go out on my board for a bit. It might be nice to get--”

“I don’t want to,” he said coldly.

“Do you want something to drink?” she offered.

“No,” he said flatly.

After a moment of silence, the girl said, “Listen, Zach. I know that what happened to your friend is tearing you apart but this can’t be healthy.”

He didn’t say anything.

The girl took a deep sigh and shook her head. She turned on her side, her back to her brother, and she reopened her book from where she left off.

“Umm... excuse me. Natalie and Zach Brice?” asked a shadow as it passed over the page.

Natalie looked up and squinted against the sunlight. She saw two men, one of them was about the same age she was.

“Hi,” she said, putting her hand up to her brow to block the sun.

“I’m Jimmy Page and this is John Bonham. We’re with the Coast Guard and we’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind,” the blond one said.

Natalie got to her feet and looked the two up and down, “I’ve never seen you two before. Can I see some ID please?”

The blond one agreed and flashed the card to her, “We’re new on the force and we’re just trying to get introduced to some of the locals.”

Natalie nodded and looked down at her younger brother who hadn’t bothered to recognize the men.

“So, you wanted to ask us something?” Natalie asked, turning back to them.

When she got a good look at them, her heart began to pound. They were quite good looking, especially the blond one who introduced himself as Jimmy Page. He had a kind of “bad-boy on the outside but sweetheart on the inside” look and the dark haired one looked caring and good natured.

But in both of their eyes was something that was all-too familiar to Natalie. It appeared to be a dark pain in their heart; about something that they didn’t want anyone to know about. A dark history that they knew no one could fully understand.

She shook the feeling of familiarity from her mind and turned her attention back to them.

“Yeah, we’d like to get some direct quotes from you about the death of Dan Parks. The Coast Guard is documenting the accident in their records but they need some straight facts,” he said, whipping out a pad and pen.

Suddenly, a black blur came in between her and the two men. It was Zach. He was finally on his feet, but he didn’t seem happy.

“How dare you come and interrogate my sister and me! We’re just trying to relax! Can’t we have a moment of peace for once! I’m sick of answering all of your stupid questions! Like you’ll ever believe me in the first place!”

Natalie grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back, “Zach--”

“No! I’m tired of answering questions! They can get their answers from someone else because it’s not going to be me!”

“Try me,” the blond one said with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve seen a lot of things in one week than you’ve ever seen in your life. What makes you think that your story won’t surprise me?”

There was something about the man’s expression that made Zach calm down. It was the look of understanding. Zach paused and took a slow, shuddering breath.

“I’ve already told my story hundreds of times...”

“Just once more... the last time,” the dark haired man pleaded.

Zach stared at them, then slowly looked to his sister who let go of his shirt.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you... this is going to sound ridiculous,” he added quietly at the end.

“We’re ready,” the dark haired one said.
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Author's Note: I know Dean's not exactly blond but let's just say for argument's sake that the sun bleached his hair... -ish. I had to describe the brothers somehow... I guess I could have said the taller one for Sammy and the shorter guy for Dean. Even though they are neither below 6'3"!! That's freaking huge!