After ten minutes, the sound of sirens cut through the air.
Two police cars pulled up in front of the motel. Doors opened. Officers stepped out.
A moment later, they brought Gordon out in handcuffs.
He didn't struggle.
Didn't look scared either.
Just angry.
"It seems that's the end of Gordon," Dean said, watching as they pushed him into the back of the cruiser.
"Yeah," Henry replied quietly.
Sam stood a little apart, arms crossed. He had stopped Dean earlier. Dean had been ready to end it right there—one bullet for trying to kill him.
Sam wouldn't allow it.
Gordon was still human.
And Henry had stepped in with a better option.
No hunting justice. No revenge killing.
Just evidence.
Shooting into a residential area. Attempted murder. Scott Carey's death. Illegal firearms. A sniper rifle set up across from a private home.
They hadn't needed to fabricate anything.
They just had to call it in.
Gordon glanced at them once before the door shut.
No smile this time.
The cruiser pulled away.
***
Night wrapped the cemetery in fog and weak moonlight, the kind of place where bad decisions felt inevitable.
Henry didn't even see it coming.
One second he was standing. The next, something invisible slammed into him and sent him flying through the air.
He crashed hard into a tree trunk with a pained yell.
"Can I not have one full night of sleep in this universe?" he thought as he slid down the bark and hit the ground, air knocked from his lungs.
He rolled onto his side, groaning.
That was when the temperature around his legs dropped.
A pale woman materialized at his feet, her face twisted with grief and rage. Her hands shot down and clamped around his ankles like iron restraints.
"Oh, come on—"
She dragged him across the grass.
Gravestones blurred past as dirt and dead leaves scraped against his back.
"Guys! Little help here!" Henry shouted, digging his fingers into the ground as if that would do anything.
"Do we look like we can help?" Dean yelled back.
Dean himself was being flung sideways by another ghost, slamming shoulder-first into a headstone before stumbling back upright with his shotgun raised.
Sam was kneeling by an open grave, frantically pouring salt over a corpse. "I'm busy!" he snapped. "Thirty seconds!"
"Why is it always thirty seconds?!" Henry yelled as he was dragged past a crooked marker that read 1896.
The ghost jerked him harder, pulling him toward a cluster of trees.
Henry twisted, trying to kick free, but her grip didn't loosen.
Then his hand brushed against something cold and solid in the grass.
Iron.
An old rusted rod, probably part of a broken fence.
He grabbed it instantly.
"Alright," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he was dragged another few feet.
He braced his free leg, twisted his torso, and swung the rod downward with force.
The iron connected with the ghost's arm.
She shrieked, the sound sharp and unnatural, and her form flickered violently.
Henry didn't stop. He swung again, this time straight through her torso.
The rod passed through glowing mist, and the spirit burst apart in a violent shimmer of light before vanishing completely.
The dragging stopped.
Henry rolled onto his stomach, coughing dirt out of his mouth.
Behind him, Sam struck a match and tossed it into the two salted graves.
Flames exploded from both sites at once.
The ghosts shrieked.
Their forms warped and thinned as the fire consumed them, outlines tearing apart like paper in a storm. The sound stretched into something inhuman before breaking entirely.
Silence returned to the cemetery.
Dean walked over, brushing dirt off his jacket. "You alive?"
Henry pushed himself up slowly, still gripping the iron rod. "Yeah," he said between breaths. "Sam, you really should've done more research."
Dean huffed a laugh despite the dirt on his face. "He's got you there."
This case was supposed to be simple.
A string of slashing incidents. People in their own kitchens, grabbing their meat cleavers and cutting themselves to death. No break-ins. No signs of struggle. Just blood and a suicide note vibe every time.
Sam had tracked the pattern. All the victims were customers of the same meat shop. The owner had supposedly killed himself weeks earlier. That was the angle. Angry spirit of a butcher taking revenge from beyond the grave.
Clean.
Logical.
Except it wasn't just one ghost.
They had dug the butcher's remains first. Thought that would end it. Five seconds later, Dean got thrown across the cemetery by someone they hadn't accounted for.
"Turns out," Henry muttered, dusting dirt off his shirt, "he had a plus one."
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, clearly annoyed with himself.
"The shop owner's wife died two years before him. Car accident. I didn't think she'd end up a ghost too."
"And now she's mad too," Dean added dryly.
Henry leaned on the iron rod, glancing at the burning grave. "Or maybe the butcher didn't just kill himself," he said. "Maybe she was already haunting him. Pushed him over the edge. If she stuck around, there could've been more activity we didn't connect."
Dean tilted his head slightly. "So you're saying haunted marriage?"
Henry sighed. "I'm just saying… even in death, some wives are scary."
Dean gave him a look. "Careful. You keep talking like that, something's gonna follow you home."
Henry was about to reply when the familiar translucent screen flashed in front of his vision.
---
[Congratulations. Two ghosts eliminated.]
[Reward Granted: 8 Supernatural Points.]
[Total Points: 10]
[Lucky Wheel Activated. (Uncommon Lottery Triggered – 25% Chance)]
[Spin the Wheel]
---
Henry kept his face neutral while mentally hitting spin.
The wheel rotated quickly, icons flashing past—random weapons, charms, strange artifacts.
Then it slowed.
Stopped.
---
[Item Acquired: Ghost Hacker Specs]
Effect: Grants superior hacking skills to the wearer.
Curse: Extended use may trigger obsessive screen addiction and sudden urges to headbutt solid surfaces.
---
Henry blinked.
Hacking glasses.
In a world of demons and angels.
"…Of course," he thought.
Still, information was power. And in a modern hunt, access to police databases, surveillance systems, credit trails—that wasn't useless.
*****
🔥 For Advanced Chapters Join My Patreon 🔥
👉 patreon.com/DeathNote4455
🚀 Get early access to future chapters currently updated upto chapter 20