Post by Jane Paladin on Jan 17, 2015 11:49:34 GMT -5
Jane pulled her motocycle up to the exit for Clinton road off of Route 23. God all this place is, is woods for miles. She thought to herself as she let her bike idle at the stop sign. It was about three in the afternoon on a summer morning in June. She had been on her own hunting for a while with a few successful hunts under her belt since she had last seen the Winchesters. She had managed to kill a vampire by almost pure luck. She had also run into a shifter and with research and some cunning she had eliminated that threat as well. She had been studying this case while she was more south in New Jersey. She had come across a lot of different things about this strange, apparently deserted road. Stuff that she wasn't sure if any of it was real or not. She turned right after a moment. No one was at the traffic light to come to the isolated road. There was a big barn building right before the road. She turned right and rode down the long road. Jane saw a few residents with drive ways a little into the road, but everything just seemed to stagger and drop off. According to a few locals she had spoken to the road hadn't been paved till not very long ago.
The road was full of pot holes as she drove down the winding road. Even in the day time the thick forest of trees loomed in on the road. Old fall leaves covered the thick forest under brush. Even though it was a warm summer day, Jane felt a chill go through her, as if as soon as she got a little into the road, it just suddenly got colder. The road was very winding. You had to go very slow on the turns or else you might end up in the woods easily. Then she came to a very, very sharp curve. It was basically a sudden 90 degree turn. She had slowed but almost not enough, she had to slightly slam on the breaks, sending her skidding slightly onto a rocky path, which was when she stopped the bike. This had been one of the reasons she came here. There was a large guard rail with graffiti on it. This was it. Dead man's curve. This was where the ghost boy was suppose to be. Jane parked and turned off her bike, getting to her feet, she pulled her helmet off, holding it under her arm. She moved to the edge looking toward the stream below. She didn't know anything about ghosts. It felt unreasonably cold on this road. It was a summer evening. She didn't understand it. There was a river below, swiftly shifting by, bubbling with white, from a recent rain storm.
As she stared into the water, it felt like two hands shoved her closer to the water below. She gasped and whirled around to see nothing behind her. The residents might be right. Maybe someone did die in the river. She pulled out her phone, looking up the number for Sam Winchester. She thought they might find this place very interesting. She pulled up the number and dialed. When he answered, she said, "Hey Sam, it's Jane. I need some help with a case I'm working. You ever heard of Clinton road in New Jersey? It's suppose to be the most haunted road in America. Yeah, its in northern New Jersey, West Milford. Thanks man."
Deadman's curve
