Keeping Up With The Browns VII

Beaten and bloodied, Irwin and Dean dragged Ninmug's corpse into the elevator before Irwin told Dean to wait for him. The elevator door closed in on him, leaving Irwin with the corpse whereupon he broke the elevator camera before trading the corpse with high hopes that he'll have more information about her pantheon and who she was in general.

■■

All tradeable items have been scanned. Please select which item to trade:

▪︎ Ninmug Of The Šassūrātu - Class 3 Demihuman - Mesopotamian Goddess Corpse Variant: 511

■■

"Ok, shit. I don't know much about them, only that Hittites used to have sacred prostitutes. Wait, are the Hittites part of the Mesopotamian pantheon?" The elevator door opened up before Dean's face slowly morphed into one of surprise and apprehension.

"Where's the body?" He asked, gripping the Angel Blade tightly.

"In my storage space." Irwin jingled his spatial bangle, answering his question as if the answer was obvious.

"C'mon. We should head to the second floor." Irwin tapped the 2nd Floor button as Dean rode inside. It was clear that there were still unanswered questions from the man, but the earlier fight had taken any semblance of curiosity and packed it up for later.

As the elevator dinged, he slowly slid his body down the wall and let himself rest even for a bit. Dean, on the other hand, merely crossed his arms and let himself think.

"I should call Sammy. See what he'll find on these guys." He said, more to himself than to Irwin.

"You should. They're from Mesopotamia. One of them is an enemy of Gilgamesh and the one we killed is Ninmug. Gods, a lot of them." Irwin offered more information than he knew.

"The Huwawa guy is one? Shit." Dean shook his head, resisting the urge not to lash out. "At least we can kill them with this. Still, I don't like being this disadvantaged. You have spells right? You're that kind of magician?"

"No, I only do birthday parties." Irwin mocked. "Yes. I can tell which people are monsters and that flaming whip is a specialization of mine."

Dean nodded as he grabbed his phone, only to realize that it had broken during the kerfuffle. "Fuck!" He cursed, throwing it away in a huff. "Maybe there's–"

"Here you go." Irwin threw his smartphone at Dean, having always kept it inside of his spatial bangle. Although it always took a while for any bar service to pop up after its storage, the inconvenience was outweighed by the usefulness of not having stuff in his pants and other pockets.

Sam picked up almost instantly, and the two began to talk, with Dean ostensibly telling his brother to stay at Madison's place. There was back and forth about danger and love, but nevertheless, Dean agreed to update Sam through the smartphone, which would be Irwin' job–Dean didn't take no for an answer and Irwin didn't actually care.

There were still hiccups about their plan, but the elevator doors opened and revealed the second floor, cutting their conversation short.

"Jesus…"

Four men in a security guard outfit lay dead, bloodied, and mutilated within the halls of the second floor. Limbs were laid strewn with some sticking out of the wall like a thrown knife while a few were broken and folded into unnatural origami shapes that vaguely resembled an amphibious bird. 

Irwin walked towards the nearest one and saw that his face was bereft of life and vitality. It was as if he was drenched with every moisture and water in his body that he had been mummified yet as he looked around the hall, blood coated every inch of the drywall.

"Christ. They exsanguinated the guy and painted the walls with his blood." He remarked to himself and to Dean. "Check their guns."

Irwin did so on the guy below him and found the clip of his service pistol full, not even a sign of the barrel being fired through.

"Full clip here." Dean reported, shaking his head as he gazed at the blood slowly dripping down to the floor and into a puddle. "Mummified and mutilated. Rent-a-cops couldn't even fire their weapons. What kind of monsters does this?"

Irwin shook his head with a sigh. "Not a monster, a god."

●●Robert "Bobby" Singer - Ten Minutes Earlier●●●

Bobby knew most things roaming the world weren't created for human eyes and, for the last twenty years, he had seen and heard everything there should be. Hell, he had honed his senses and accustomed his stomach to prevent being riled up and interrupted from his work.

That was proven to be a misconception the moment he went to the second floor, whereupon he was met with the corpses of mutilated security guards. A sanguine hue painted the walls as it trailed down towards the inner corridor.

He tightened his grip on his sawed-off shotgun and on his stomach, the former he spat out in anger. Seeing such dehumanizing destruction would set anyone off, but Bobby knew that whomever did this had done it without a care in the world.

It was a blessing that the security guards had died after the monster exsanguinated their bodies, no longer had to suffer the sight of their own bodies being torn apart in such sadistic playfulness.

Even if Bobby wasn't an artistic man by nature, he was sure that there was an order in this chaos. A certain love that was engraved within every arm stuck in the wall or the set of teeth shaped into a smile.

He inhaled gruffly, clearing his throat to let the smell of blood satiate his bloodlust. Whomever did this was going to pay, and the price was their life.

A warm hand brought him back from his dark thoughts as it clutched his shoulders. Ellen helped him stand up as he finished inspecting the guard, shaking off the deep apprehension in his body.

"You alright, Bobby?" She asked with concern, her other hand aiming at the furthest end of the hallway. 

"It ain't a pretty sight, I tell you that much." Bobby joked. The revelation that they had walked into a building full of cannibalistic pagan gods serving another god had taken him off his

He walked forward, aiming his shotgun forward in a resting position. He already knew where the surveillance room was because there was an evacuation guide right next to the elevator doors.

As he moved forward, the blood grew narrower yet darker, with only a singular crimson line flowing through both walls when he arrived in front of the ajar surveillance room door.

The smell of blood that had permeated the hallways was now suddenly gone, as if some kind of invisible barrier had been placed inside.

"Balls." He muttered under his breath as he took out his pistol loaded with Witch-killing bullets.

Bobby prepared for many things in life, much more so if one included his preparations for monsters. 

He had a silver knife, a tape recorder with a record of an exorcism chant–an idea of his kid, Sam Winchester–, a flare, and a snub-nosed pistol rubbed with Witch's bane. That was actually why he had always worn a jacket over his flannel shirt, even when it's hot outside. Half of the items he carried couldn't even fit in his pants pocket.

"We're dealing with gods, Bobby. A small thing like that won't work with them." Ellen grinned as she showed off the silver blade Irwin had given her. "This'll work with everything."

"Or so he says." Bobby said distrustfully.

With two guns in his hands, Bobby kicked the door open and saw a clean room. Not one bit of trash on the floor or in the wastebasket, a neatly long desk with organized cubbies to the side.

"Well, ain't this just nice and… safe?" Bobby was more than alarmed and hesitant to even enter, yet there was inkling at the back of his head that told him to enter nonetheless.

He stepped forward and was immediately hit with the smell of wood, akin to stepping into a freshly rained forest soil.

"Why does this smell familiar?" He asked himself.

Ellen tilted her head. "Remember that dreamcatcher I gave you two Christmases ago?"

"Yeah, it smells like that." Bobby had always liked that dreamcatcher and even hung it over his favorite bookshelf.

"It's made of Cedar." She informed him.

"Good nose." A giant figure emerged from behind them; A hulking, naked, and furry creature that bore a resemblance to mythical ogres stood between them and the door. "Good evening, hunters. I am Huwawa and, don't say anything, let me guess, your names are… my dinner and dessert."