Title: Spitting image

Author: Silvertayl 57

Rated: PG 18

Timeline: Set in season 3 after episode 3:11: Mystery Spot

Story Summary: In Savannah, Georgia a pattern of brutal supernatural related murders is repeated every 29 years. The victims have one thing in common... they all look alike. As the cycle begins again in 2008 Dean and Sam investigate. The evidence leads them to suspect the vengeful spirit of Louis Archer from a prominent Savannah family. As they uncover the seemingly insane reasons for the spirits revenge against the young male citizens of Savannah it becomes obvious that one of the brothers is destined to become the spirits next victim. Will they be able to stop the cycle of brutal death, before it's too late to save one of the Winchester Brothers?

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters remain the property of their respective owners and creators and no infringement of copyright is intended

Spitting Image


Savannah, Georgia – February 3, 1921

Louis Archer stood over his sleeping son. James was lying on his bed still clothed in the crisp, white shirt and dress pants he'd had on earlier, his bow tie and dinner jacket lay discarded beside the large bed, his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his high-shine shoes still laced on his feet reflected the electric light above the bed.

James had been pulling his belongings from the closet and the dresser, some lay strewn across the imported Persian carpet; others had been stuffed haphazardly into a large suitcase open at the foot of the bed. He had fallen asleep half way through the process of packing; he was at the moment at his most vulnerable. Now was the opportunity for Louis to do what he had been told to do... by God.

A God fearing man Louis worshiped at the Cathedral of John the Baptist every Sunday and he was one of the main benefactors funding any renovations and refurbishments that the church required, he had raised his two sons in the same manner. So what he was about to do he considered God's work, God's will. God had told him to do this; he had whispered in Louis' ear telling him he must do this.

Louis looked down into the handsome face of his younger son, in his mind was replaying the conversation he and James had no more than an hour ago at the bottom of the staircase when James had come in after another night out with his so called friend, his lover. Louis had earlier tonight found out James' secret, he was having a love affair with a man, that good for nothing wastrel, Eric Benoit. His son was now corrupted.

The drawl of their pure southern accents rose loud through the large family home as they each tried to make the other see their point of view.

His father's closed expression goaded James to shout. "Father please try to understand, I've been living a lie, lying to myself to you to Richard to the whole of Savannah, I'm not going to do that anymore," James paused, drawing a breath before continuing more calmly. "I tried to deny the way I felt, I really did, but I have accepted the way I am, the way I feel… about Eric I love him and we want to be together."

Louis couldn't believe those words had come from his son's mouth. He was shocked, angry, disappointed, ashamed, he yelled at James hoping to make him see this for what it was, a mistake, he was throwing his life away because of his misguided feelings for a man. "Love how can you call that love? It's against God and nature that's not the way God intended men to love, its evil an abomination. Thank God your mother is not alive to see what you have become; it would have broken her heart as you have broken mine."

James was breathing heavily his face flushed with anger and frustration; his green eyes so like his mothers were filled with hurt as they searched his father's face, looking for something, acceptance maybe. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but it doesn't change anything, I'm not going to let you

"You are my son, this is my home you will do as I say, or suffer the consequences. James if you continue with this... this nonsense, then I will no longer call you my son, I will disown you, disinherit you, you will get nothing from me; I will never speak your name again, do you understand me?"

James' eyes widened with shock, only to be wiped away a moment later by a look of resignation. "So be it, I don't need your money, your name, I'll be gone tomorrow, you'll never see me again, I hope you're satisfied... goodbye father."

James turned away and rushed up the staircase his hand-tailored suit pulling across the muscles of his back as he took the stairs two at a time.

Louis stood staring at the top of the stairs long after James had disappeared from his line of sight and the echoing of the slamming of his son's bedroom door had fallen away. Louis didn't know how long it was that he stood there before God spoke to him, told him what must be done, and Louis was the one that would fulfil God's will.

Now as Louis continued to look upon his son; his steel gray eyes were cold, not a trace of the loving father he had been remained. Louis knew what he had to do; he had to do it for his dear, darling Elise taken from him too soon aged 26 at James' birth when his first born Richard was only three and for James himself, and most importantly of all for God. He could not bear to see his precious son become an evil, wicked abomination; an ungodly creature.

The many clocks throughout the big house chimed midnight as Louis ascended the staircase a large serrated carving knife he'd pulled from the kitchen knife draw in hand. It had taken him a few minutes to locate the knife draw, as Louis hardly if ever went into his own kitchen. The kitchen after all was for staff, servants. Now he lifted the knife high in the air, hesitating only briefly he whispered to the sleeping figure. "I have to do this, it's the only way to save you." Before bringing the knife down and plunging it to the hilt into James' unprotected stomach.

A gasp escaped James' lips his long-lashed beautiful eyes flew open, head lifting off the bed, hands fisting the bedspread in pain and shock.

Louis looked away from those eyes, Elise's eyes to his own white-knuckled hand wrapped tightly around the knife's handle. Pulling it from his son he lifted it again, blood dripped and spattered across the colorful bedspread.

Before his father plunged the knife into him again James lifted his hands from the bedspread to the mahogany stain spreading over his white shirt and pants, his full lips parted, one word escaped drawing his father's eyes back to his face. "Why?"

The loving father Louis had been returned then, Louis felt tears of sadness and loss well in his eyes, his lips began to tremble, he gave his son an answer and yet it was not an answer at all. "I had to I'm sorry." Plunging the knife down again, this time the knife buried itself in James' chest.

Spatters of blood flew into the air across Louis' hand and James' face.

James bloodstained hands fell away from the wound in his stomach and rested by his sides, the wound to his chest was fatal, his life was draining away, leaving him no strength to fight off the vicious attack by his own father, he looked from his father's hand curled around the knife protruding from his chest to his father's face.

Louis saw betrayal in those eyes, how can he look at me that way? I'm the one who is betrayed, me, my Elise and God.

The loving father was again gone, his lips curled away from his clenched teeth and in a frenzy of movement he plunged the knife time after time into James' chest and stomach with a strength born of anger and madness, the thrusts coming faster and faster until his son was a bloody, gory mess, a crimson stain spreading from his lifeless body clawing its way towards the edge of the bed.

His anger and energy gone, Louis stood panting from his exertions; he looked at the wide staring eyes of the thing that had once been his son, still he saw betrayal in their cool green depths. His anger rekindled. There was one more thing he must do. All sanity had flown and the madness had taken over, the madness told him to commit one final act of destruction, the madness told him this act would set things right.

Without hesitation he did it.

Chapter 1: Archer's Ghost

Near Valdosta, Georgia - February 2008

They'd been on the road for nearly ten hours, leaving the Broward County Mystery Spot, Florida and the Trickster well behind them.

Sam had been quiet as they'd headed north his nose buried in his lap top and Dean wasn't convinced that a weird dream as he'd put it was the only thing bothering him. Leaving the motel Dean had joked about it asking Sam, "Clowns or midgets?"

Three hours out of Coral Springs Sam closed the laptop slid it onto the seat in between them and promptly fell asleep shoulder propped up against the door, head resting on the closed window. He hadn't moved since.

Dean rubbed at his tired, stinging eyes with the side of his index finger.

To his left the sun had slipped low it looked like a giant orange rubber ball balanced on the western horizon.

A sign flashed by Wayne's Diner and Gas Station 2 miles on right.

Dean stole a quick glance down at the gas gauge, he'd filled up a couple of hours out of Coral Springs the gauge now hovered close to and only slightly above the E he'd have to stop soon and fill up. Wayne's was as good a place as any. As if to say don't forget about me his stomach growled loudly. Neither of them had eaten since getting in the car and Sam had made them leave Coral Springs without breakfast.

As if sensing the change in speed when a minute later Dean slowed the big car for the turnoff Sam sat up with a snort, blinking owlishly out the windshield. "We stopping?"

"Yeah. I'm starving and Baby's thirsty."

Dean pulled off the road into the entrance coasting up to the diner. There was a small parking lot next to it the four gas pumps at the adjoining gas station were all occupied with a couple of cars pulled up waiting. "You grab us a table, I'll fill up."

"Okay," Sam intertwined his fingers pushing out his arms, stretching the muscles in his shoulders and back before he got out and headed into the diner.

Dean had to wait a few minutes for a pump to free up before he could fill up. The gas mart was busy, people strolled the 3 aisles grabbing up road food and sodas, the only open checkout had a queue. While Dean waited his turn to pay for gas he picked up a copy of the Lowndes County Bugle newspaper from the rack against the window, as he shuffled forward in the queue he read the headline story.



A man was found murdered late on Monday evening on E Oglethorpe Ave outside the Colonial Park Cemetery. The victim's name and full details of the murder are being withheld due to the gruesome nature of the crime. Local history buffs are convinced the murder is the work of Savannah's Serial Killer Ghost known to the locals as Archer's Ghost. Every 29 years in 1950 and again in 1979, and now in 2008 a series of murders occurs all are young men in their late twenties and all bear a striking resemble to James Archer aged 29 who was murdered in the family home, The Archer Mansion by his father Louis on February 2 1921, almost 29 years to the day before the first series of murders took place in 1950. The legend tells that the insane ghost of Louis Archer comes back to make sure his son is dead every 29 years stabbing to death any young man who resembles James.

Police believe the most recent murder is the work of a copy-cat murderer and have issued a warning to all young men to take care and not go out or walk the streets unaccompanied late at night in that area of Savannah, police have asked anyone with any information on the murders to come forward as investigations continue.

"Pump number... pump number."

Dean looked up from the paper. He had reached the front of the queue. The attendant was glaring angrily at him, drumming his fingers on the counter top impatiently.

"Sorry what?"

"I said pump number."

"Umm three," Dean answered, his thoughts still on the newspaper.

"32.45... paper too?"


The sun had slipped below the western horizon and darkness was drawing in the remains of the daylight as he pulled the Impala around, parking in the half empty lot beside the diner.

Entering the diner the newspaper rolled up in his hand he spotted Sam straight away sitting with his back to him at the third table down against the window that spanned the length of the diner. He was staring absently at the menu a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. A second mug sat on the table across from him.

Sam glanced up as Dean slipped onto the seat opposite.

"I ordered you coffee," Sam said, before taking a sip of the hot brew.

"Thanks check this out," Dean said, straightening out the paper he flipped it around to face his brother.

Sam smoothed out the paper, his hazel eyes slid across the front page.

Dean picked up the discarded menu his own eyes drawn to a cardboard pamphlet at the far end of the table under the window wedged between the napkin dispenser and the salt and pepper shakers:

Big Breakfast served until 5 pm daily. Bacon, Eggs (fried, scrambled or poached), Sausage, Hash Browns, Grilled Tomato and 2 slices of Toast.

Dean glanced at his watch, 6.33, "Damn we're too late for a big breakfast."

Sam finished reading and pushed the paper back across the table, "Sounds like a spirit."

"Yes it does," Dean agreed sliding the paper to one side. "We should check it out."

At that moment the chubby fifty something waitress order docket and pen in hand stepped up to the table.

"You boys ready to order?" She drawled, eerily reminiscent of Doris at the diner in Coral Springs.

Dean glanced up at her name-tag, and then turned on the charm giving her his best smile, green eyes sparkling, "Yeah Cynthia, I know it's late but would there be any hope you've still got a big breakfast hanging around in the kitchen?"

Cynthia smiled and Sam could have sworn he saw her pupils dilate as she swayed towards his brother as if he was magnetized, "I'm sure for you sweetie I can arrange something. How do you want your eggs?"

"Whichever way is easiest," Dean replied.

"Sure thing," reluctantly she pulled her eyes away from Dean to look at Sam. "What about you hun?"

"I'll have the Southern fried chicken and a garden salad," Sam answered.

"Mayo?" Cynthia asked as she scribbled on the docket.

"On the side, thanks."

"Coming right up," she said as with another glance and a smile in Dean's direction she headed off towards the kitchen.

"You're unbelievable," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"Too true," Dean agreed with a smile. "So Savannah?"

"I got another idea. Louisiana."

Dean frowned, "What's in Louisiana?"

"Remember a while ago after the 7 deadly sin demons I told you about a Voodoo priestess in Shreveport that might be able to help out with your deal?"


"Dean, this could be the way we save you."

"The way to save me is not in Louisiana."

"You don't know that for sure. Bobby's got his feelers out for Bela. Dean I think Louisiana is worth a shot."

"We've had this conversation already. No voodoo priestess is gonna be able to break the deal."

"You don't know that for sure," Sam repeated.

"Sam until we find either Bela, the Colt or the demon, preferably in that order because killing that bitch is the first thing on my to do list, I just wanna' hunt."

"We just finished a hunt."

Dean gave a snort of laughter, "Yeah right. Hasselback the Truth Warrior and a total dick. If you ask me The Trickster did the world a favor. What I mean is a real hunt, an old-fashioned ghost hunt."

"Dean-" Sam began, his plea cut off by Dean's deep voice.

"Sam, let's wait and see what Bobby comes up with. In the meantime... Archer's ghost."

Savannah, Georgia – February 2008

"Man this place is nice," Dean said as the Impala passed yet another park, vibrant color bursting from crammed flower beds lining a pathway leading to yet another fountain, this one sprouting crystal clear water high into the vivid blue afternoon sky. "Lots of parks and fountains and stuff."

"You've never been here before?" Sam asked surprised, his attention only partially on the park or the fountain as he squinted out the windshield at the street signs.

"Nah, Atlanta but never Savannah."

"Well that makes two of us."

Dean glanced across at Sam, the map of Savannah open on his knees, a long index finger stabbing at the spot on the map he was trying to navigate them to. His head bobbing up and down as he alternated between looking down at the map and out the window at the street signs. "You have'n any luck with that map, college boy?"

Sam was deep in concentration. "Should be just up here… whoa, whoa, turn left here." He said suddenly.

Dean checked the rear-view mirror and swung the wheel to the left, the big car responded instantly turning with only a slight squeal of tires.

The momentum of his body still going forward Sam was flung into the passenger door.

Dean couldn't help himself he grinned as Sam pushed himself upright away from the door rubbing his arm where it had slammed against the door.

"Thanks for that Dean." Sam's tone annoyed.

"You said turn left, so I did."

"Yeah whatever, dude."

Dean laughed and Sam gave him a look that could kill, "Should be just up here on the left, corner of Papy Street." The words had hardly exited Sam's mouth when Dean saw the sign saying Thunderbird Inn, again he swung the wheel to the left steering the car into the motel driveway pulling to a screeching halt in front of the motel office.

This time Sam was ready, bracing himself against the door.

"Think you drew enough attention to us Dean?" Sam said, sarcastically.

Dean smiled again his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "No. Want me to do it again?"

"You're not funny." Sam answered.

"I think I'm hilarious, why don't you go check us in I'll wait here."

Their sudden and noisy arrival had drawn an audience; Dean saw two pairs of eyes watching them from behind the glass of the office window.

With another glare in Dean's direction and not a word Sam got out and slammed the door harder than was necessary as a small measure of a payback for the roller coaster ride, knowing Dean hated any mistreatment of his Baby, partially satisfied he walked into the office.

Dean cringed as the slamming of the door reverberated through the car causing it to rock gently from side to side. Guess I deserved that, call it even Sammy. "Sorry Baby, my fault." He spoke to the car while patting the dash affectionately.

To his relief Sam hadn't mentioned Louisiana again. Dean was pleased to see a good night's sleep had improved Sam's mood... at least for now.

Deep in thought he didn't see Sam leave the office and approach the car.

This was an opportunity to get a little payback. Stopping beside the car Sam banged his fist on top of the car.

Dean visibly jumped, his head spun to a smiling Sam leaning in the window.

"Jeezs Sam are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Sam laughed at Dean's startled expression. "Bit jumpy there bro?" He observed humorously. "its number 17 upstairs, park in the numbered bay.

"That's so not funny, Sam."

Still chuckling Sam walked towards the stairs leading to the upper level of the motel. Dean started the car and followed slowly behind his overgrown little brother, half tempted to give him an unexpected ride on the hood of the Impala.

Sam pointed to a bay marked with 17, indicating for Dean to park there. It was close to the stairs leading to the upper level.

A few minutes later they hauled their duffle bags and weapons bag across the threshold of the room.

It was above the usual standard for them, pleasant it smelled clean with a hint of some woodsy air freshener; a welcome change from the smell of stale cigarettes mixed with body odor unsuccessfully covered with some cheap sickly air freshener. This was tastefully decorated, no gordy colored bedspreads or wallpaper, no unidentifiable stains on the carpet or ceiling. It was bright and clean with a large window on front and rear wall, two comfy looking queen sized beds. The bathroom was also clean and fresh with another large window this one frosted facing the rear of the motel. It was tiled with soft pastel green tiles, the big soft, fluffy towels color coordinated to match.

After unpacking the usual minimal of stuff and settling in as much as they ever did in any motel, Dean cleaned the guns while Sam opened the laptop on the decent sized table, connecting to the motel's Wi-Fi he searched for any more information on The Legend of Archers Ghost and anything else to do with The Archer Family, before he would force Dean into a trip with him to the local library, on a research and fact finding mission. It was a typical scenario for the Winchester Brothers, Sam doing research on his trusty laptop while Dean cleaned the weapons. Lifting his eyes from the screen Sam watched Dean, his capable hands moving over Sam's broken down Glock. Dean could do it with his eyes shut; he had done it countless times before, which meant they always had well serviced weapons in their arsenal that they could rely upon in their never-ending battle against evil.

Sam enjoyed the research side of hunting, he figured it was left over from his days at Stanford, he loved the smell of libraries the smell of knowledge waiting there for someone to open up one of the books and partake of that knowledge, Dean called it the smell of musty old books and musty even older librarians. Sam knew how much Dean hated research and libraries and that suited Sam fine, but sometimes the research had to be done by the two of them and this was one of those times.

Thirty minutes later, Sam sighed and closed the laptop. Dean had finished cleaning the guns and was lying stretched out on the bed he had claimed for himself.

At Sam's sigh Dean lifted his head glancing at his brother. "Anything?"

Sam ran his hands through his too long hair before answering. "Nope all I could come up with was the same newspaper article from 2 days ago, so…"

Dean quirked up one eyebrow. "So?"

"You know what that means."

Sam smiled as realization dawned on Dean's face. "I have to do research, don't I?"


"Oh come on, you've gotta be kiddin me?"


The Chatham County Public Library over looked the Savannah River, which was a pleasant outlook, however this also meant Dean was easily distracted by the view out the panoramic window. Sam poked him with the pen he was using to bring his attention back to the job at hand for the third time in twenty minutes.

"Quit poking me dude." Dean hissed, trying to keep his voice low, glancing at the male librarian who had already spoken to Dean once about keeping his voice down in the library.

"Well quit staring out the window." Sam hissed back leaning forward into Dean's face.

Dean pulled his head back and away, "Dude personal space."

"Concentrate Dean this is important." Sam said, still leaning forward.

"We've been here for hours," Dean answered, sitting back with a sigh. "It's b.o.r.i.n.g... with a capitol B!"

"So stop wasting time, the sooner we find the information we need the sooner we can get outta' here."

"We missed lunch... I'm hungry," Dean said rubbing at his flat stomach.

"Quite bitchin' and keep reading."

With that Sam went back to the library's computer. He was going through newspaper records dating back to February 1921 when James Archer had been murdered. Dean was supposed to be going through Savannah's local history books and the birth, deaths and marriages documentation looking for any further information about the Archer family, but he was easily distracted by the view whether it be the one out the window or the tall leggy blonde who was reading at a nearby table wearing a skirt so short it left nothing much to the imagination. When she crossed one leg over the other, Dean pondered if she was another Sharon Stone from that movie, whatever it was called, Dean could only recall that scene,he'd find out soon enough if that skirt that could pass as a wide belt kept rising further up her shapely thighs with every small movement she made. Suddenly she closed the book she was reading from, got to her feet uncrossing her legs in one fluid motion and headed for the exit. Dean saw a hint of lilac lace as she rose, well so much for Sharon Stone.

He heaved a heavy sigh causing Sam to look at him; reluctantly he went back to research, fun's over.

Sometime later Sam had come to an article about the murder of James Archer, at last. It was dated February 4, 1921.

"Hey Dean I found something," Dean stood and went to stand behind Sam peering over his shoulder at the article; Sam began to read loud enough for only Dean to hear.


Richard Archer returned from a business trip yesterday and found the body of his father well-known local business man Louis Archer at the bottom of the staircase in the family's Savannah home. Richard also made the gruesome discovery of his brother James' body in an upstairs bedroom, it appears Louis Archer stabbed James to death and then fell to his own death down the stairs, his neck was broken, a bloody knife was also found on Louis Archer's body. Richard Archer is distraught by the death of his family. Richard and James mother Elise died in child birth 29 years ago. Police are continuing their investigations into the deaths. The local Catholic Church and business community are shocked and saddened by the loss of the prominent and popular Savannah identity.

When he was finished Dean said. "Huh that doesn't tell us anything we don't already know."

"Maybe there's more, I'll keep looking," Sam went back to sliding the old newspaper pages across the screen. Dean went back to the book he had just picked up before Sam had called him over, it was called:






Now he was getting somewhere, he didn't have to turn many pages before he got to Archer.


- Louis James Archer was born in Savannah in 1850 of British parents, James and Grace Archer.

- His parents died of a mysterious illness when Louis was 16.

- After the death of his parents Louis sort solace in the church attending mass at the Cathedral of John the Baptist Catholic Church every week.

- Louis started buying and selling Savannah real estate in his twenties and quickly made his fortune and built a thriving business.

- In 1884 he built The Archer Mansion on Lincoln Street.

- He was 37 when he married 21 year old Elise De la Croix in the Cathedral of John the Baptist in 1887.

- Son Richard Louis Archer was born November 19 1888.

- A second son James Francis Archer was born January 24 1892.

- Elise Archer died after James' birth, due to complications.

- Louis never re-married, after the death of his beloved Elise.

- Louis and James were found dead in the family home on February 3 1921 by Richard.

- It is thought that Louis stabbed James to death and then either fell or jumped to his death down the Archer Mansion staircase.

- The reason why Louis murdered his son still remains a mystery today.

- James was only 29 at the time of his death. Louis was 71.

- Richard married 2 years after the death of his father and brother.

- His son Edward was born in 1924.

- Edward married in 1954.

- Edward's son Matthew was born in 1957

- Matthew still lives in the Archer Mansion with his wife Lilia

- They have a son David born in 1983 who no longer resides in Savannah.

- The Archer family real estate business has continued to grow over the last three generations and is one of the leading family-owned businesses in Savannah.

- The Archer family is also one of the wealthiest families in Savannah.

- Savannah is said to be haunted by the ghost of Louis Archer, more information on Archer's Ghost can be found in the book entitled - HAUNTINGS OF SAVANNAH – by Savannah based author - Terry French.

Below this there was a small recent color photo of The Archer Mansion. From what he tell house looked large and impressive.

At last he had found something of interest. He searched through the books scattered across the table, looking for Hauntings of Savannah, unable to find it there he needed to go to the desk and ask the elderly librarian he'd nick-named Dracula due to his red-rimmed eyes, protruding fang like teeth and skin so pale it appeared translucent. To Dean he bore a striking resemblance to the actor Christopher Lee who'd starred in a few Dracula movies a couple or three decades ago.

Dean looked at Sam wondering if there was a way he could get Sam to go and ask for the book, but Sam was engrossed in the newspaper archives, so he would just have to do it. Oh well here goes.

As Dean rose somewhat reluctantly, Sam glanced up at him from the screen giving Dean a look that said, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'll be right back." Dean answered the unspoken question.

Dean stood at the desk in front of Dracula who choose to ignore him even though he knew he was there; the man was purposefully ignoring him, pretending to key something incredibly important into the library computer.

Dean felt his anger rise; The man was being petty and just because he had to ask Dean to keep his voice down in the library.

Dean's anger was starting to simmer when Dracula said without looking at Dean. "Yes?"

"Do you have a copy of Hauntings of Savannah?" Dean asked nicely.

Still the man never looked at him; he lifted his hand and waved in the direction of the books. "Try local history, on the left." His southern accent seemed to be purposely exaggerated.

"Gee thanks for your help, all you's folks in Savannah are so accommodating."

The man finally looked up, hearing the insult and sarcasm in Dean's tone.

Dean smiled his sweetest smile and turned towards the book isles. The three meter high rows and rows of books marched away to left and right looking kind of intimidating, Dean almost expected them to come to life and attack him like a scene from a Harry Potter movie.

Nonfiction on the left and Fiction on the right, A-Z.

Dean made his way down the left until he got to local history; and then H; eventually he found what he was looking for Hauntings of Savannah by Terry French. He took the book and went back to the table where Sam was still sitting, scrolling through the newspaper articles.

Dean plunked the book down on the table causing Sam to jump; he looked from the book to Dean before saying. "What you got there?"

"Something that will hopefully give us some information on the spirit, what about you, found anything else?"

"Not a lot, the police came to the conclusion of murder/suicide."

"Do they know why he did it?"

Sam shook his head. "Don't think they ever found out, information is very sketchy, other than that there's just the funeral notices."

Dean showed Sam the page on the Archer Family in The A-Z of Prominent Savannah Families. All the Facts and Figures. While he opened Hauntings of Savannah and it was here that he finally found the some helpful information on Louis Archer's spirit.

The legend of Archer's ghost began in 1950 when 3 young men were brutally stabbed to death and their eyes gouged out. All the murders occurred in the same area of Savannah in the month of February exactly 29 years to the month of James Archer's murder, the men all in some way resembled James, the murderer or the weapon were never found. All the bodies were found in a kilometer square radius incorporating the Archer mansion, the church the Archers worshipped at and the Colonial Park Cemetery, where the Archer Family have a crypt in which Louis and James are interred. People at the time called the killer the Invisible Killer and police suspected a killer similar to that of London's Jack the Ripper and no motive was found.

The legend surfaced again in 1979 again in February, when the same thing happened this time it was 5 murders, all stabbed and the eyes gouged out. All once again bore a resemblance to James Archer and all the murders occurred in the same one kilometer area, no weapon or killer found and the legend of Archer's Ghost was born. No one knew the true reason why Louis the loving father murdered James so viciously or why he returns every 29 years to make sure James is still dead. Although there were theories.

The last part read: "Local history buffs say that every 29 years the spirit of Louis haunts the streets of Savannah looking for James so he can murder him over again. Although no one has ever seen Archer's Ghost, locals believe the legend and are waiting to see if the Archer's Ghost will go on a another killing spree in March of 2008."

Wow, this dude gouged his own son's eyes out after stabbing him to death; this is one hell of a twisted, vicious pissed off spirit.

The local history buffs had their answer. Yes Archer's Ghost would continue his killing spree in February 2008, so far only one murder, and if he and Sam did something now it would remain at one and Archer's Ghost would never return to kill again.

"Hey Sam skip forward to February 1950." Sam had finished reading the section of the book Dean had showed him and had gone back to scrolling the newspapers.

Dean went to stand at Sam's shoulder; eventually Sam got to February 1950, where one by one the 5 murders made front page headlines, after the first one Sam said almost the exact same thing as Dean had thought, "He gouges their eyes out with a knife, this is one pissed off vicious spirit." Sam noted the dates and location of each murder, and did the same for the murders in March 1979, the same street names came up again and again.

"Seems Archer's Ghost likes the dear and familiar." Sam stated, "I'll get photocopies of all this. "It was late when they got back to the motel, they'd had a large and filling meal at a local restaurant highly recommended by the motel manager, as the manager had said they weren't disappointed and both had been hungry after missing lunch. With their hunger sated they sorted through the information they had gathered at the library, planning their next move. That was when Sam noticed a few what he thought were interesting facts. "Hey Dean d'you notice some similarities between you and James Archer?"

Dean was sitting on his bed sorting through some of the photocopies, he looked at Sam. "Similarities, what do mean by similarities?"

"Well here it says James was born on the 24th of January and was 29 when he was murdered by his father."

"So we share a birth date; just a coincidence."

"Dude not only do you share a birth date you're 29."

"Yeah Sam like I said coincidence."

"So you don't think these coincidences put you onto Archer's Ghost's hit list?"

"Doubt it."

Sam thought perhaps Dean wasn't totally convinced by his own denial.

Although neither he nor Dean had seen any pictures of James, Sam had a sneaking suspicion Dean probably resembled him. It seemed to him his brother fell smack bang in the middle the spirit's category of victim's and had even more in common with James, such as the exact same birth date and the exact same age. Sam had a sudden bad feeling that they shouldn't have come to Savannah and Dean was a prime target for the ghost of Louis Archer in this current 29 year cycle.

Tearing himself away from his thoughts, Sam looked back at his brother who was tracing the murder pattern on the map. Sam knew if he mentioned it again Dean would call him paranoid; tell him he was being a girl. Sam decided that for now he would keep his fears to himself, but while they were in Savannah he was not going to let Dean out of his sight and he was definitely not going to let Dean go anywhere at night on his own.

Sam was expecting Dean to suggest that he go and check out the streets in the area where the murders had taken place, if he did there was no way he was going alone. So it was a relieved Sam who whole heartedly agreed with Dean when he said they should get an early night and a fresh start in the morning, he knows it, but he's not gonna admit it to me. Sam yawned ostensibly saying he was tired and it was too late to do anything tonight. They agreed to pay a visit to the Archer Mansion, the Cathedral of John the Baptist and the Archer family crypt, tomorrow in the light of day.

Tomorrow the hunt to rid Savannah of Archer's Ghost and for Sam to secure his brother's safety would begin in earnest.

Continued in Chapter 2