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Post by Jo Harvelle on Feb 21, 2012 21:55:57 GMT -5
It was cold. In the middle of February, that was only natural though. The air was chilled, the branches of trees bare. It would seem a little creepy in the cemetery. Of course, she was used to creepy, so it didn’t bother her. Jo Harvelle walked through the graveyard with a certain purpose. Salt and burn the bones. The usual scenario for a hunter like herself. She’d been working a job for a little over a week, some angry spirit terrorizing a young couple after they moved into its house. She’d gotten a hit on the job while she was visiting Bobby, having searched over her laptop for anything that would be supernatural, just so she had a distraction from her own thoughts. Of course, the feeling you got after saving someone during a hunt? The best damn thing in the world.
The shovel propped up on her shoulder was the only sign that she’d be doing anything other than visiting a grave of someone she knew. Of course, no one at this time of night would see her but still. It would look strange if—in the middle of the night—someone just happened to be there. Keeping a close eye of her surroundings, she searched for the grave she was looking for.
”There you are…” she mumbled, stopping at the back of the cemetery, looking at an old, worn head stone, ”Jacoby Ivanrest.” Setting her duffel bag down, she set her flashlight on top of the headstone and drove her shovel into the dirt of the grave, but didn’t start digging. Pulling out her lighter fluid and salt, she set them on the ground beside the headstone and started digging.
Digging a grave alone sucked. It was a lot slower than if she’d had a partner, but unfortunately, her hunting days with Dean and Sam Winchester had been long over, and she was on her own now. Then again, she wouldn’t complain against a little help. It was a little over two and a half hours until she finished digging up the grave, and now, perched on the edge of the hole with her flashlight in hand, looking down at the remains of her pissed off spirit, she sighed, ”This job can get so depressing.” she murmered then grabbed the salt, shaking it out onto the body and doing the same thing with her lighter fluid.
Standing up and looking down at the grave, she struck a match and dropped it into the hole, watching the whole thing burst into flames. The only color in the damn graveyard. Sighing, Jo packed up her things, waited for the fire to go out and the bones to turn to ashes and filled the hole again. ”Well, at least I can say this job ain’t boring…”
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