The suburbs of Minnesota are wrapped in the thin snow on Christmas Eve, and the warm yellow street lights illuminate the snow particles into fine golden powder. In the small villa of the Walsh family, Christmas songs flow from the old-fashioned record player, like the sweet scent of gingerbread.
Grandpa Mike·Walsh is an old man with gray hair and deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He wears a red velvet Santa hat crookedly on his head and a thick sweater with an elk printed on it. He is squatting on the carpet at the moment, accompanying his grandson Tommy to build Lego Christmas house. Tommy is only seven years old. Her round face looks very cute under the firelight of the fireplace. Her blue eyes are as bright as the lights on the Christmas tree. Holding a red Lego block in her hand, she raised her little face and asked, "Grandpa, will you really become Santa Claus? Will you climb in from the chimney and give me a toy car?"
Mike rubbed his grandson's soft hair and said in a gentle voice, "Of course, my dear little Tommy, when you fall asleep, grandpa will put on a red robe and turn into Santa Claus, sneak in through the chimney, and put the coolest toy car by your bedside."
Mother Leah·Walsh came over with hot milk. She had light brown curly hair and was wearing an off-white house skirt. There was gentle tiredness in her eyes. She smiled and patted Tommy on the back, "Okay, honey, drink the milk and go to bed. Santa Claus only gives gifts to good children." Oh." Tommy reluctantly put down Lego and drank the hot milk in one gulp. He was led by Leah and walked to the bedroom. When he entered the door, he turned back and shouted: "Grandpa, you must come!" Mike waved his hand and responded with a smile: "Definitely!"
Mike was the only person left in the living room. He stood up, walked to the Christmas tree in cotton slippers, and stretched out his hand to hang the last star decoration. The Christmas tree was made of fir, with colored balls and lights hung on the branches, and the firewood in the fireplace was burning. There was a snap, and warm light filled the entire room. Just as he stood on tiptoes to reach for the stars, there was suddenly a dull thud from the roof, as if something heavy had hit the tiles. Then, there was a heavy dragging sound from the chimney, along with a cold, fishy smell.
Mike turned around suddenly and saw a skinny hand stained with black ash sticking out of the chimney, gripping his ankle tightly! The nails of that hand were sharp and black, like the claws of a beast, and it was surprisingly strong.,Mike was dragged so hard that he staggered and fell toward the fireplace. He screamed in horror, "Leah! Tommy! Run!"
Tommy in the bedroom heard his grandfather's scream and rushed out barefoot, just in time to see his grandfather being dragged into the chimney by the black hand. Grandpa's face was red from holding in his hands, his Santa hat fell to the ground, and his Santa hat fell to the ground. His eyes were full of worry for his family. Tommy's little face turned pale instantly, and he screamed, "Grandpa!"
At this moment, a black leather boot stained with blood slipped from the chimney and hit the firewood pile in the fireplace with a bang, sparks splashing all over the floor. Mike's screams stopped abruptly, and the whole person was completely dragged into the chimney, leaving only the empty living room and Tommy's heartbreaking cry. Leah rushed out of the bedroom and saw the mess on the ground and the bloody boot. He trembled and hugged Tommy who was paralyzed on the ground. Tears burst out of his eyes instantly. He kept chanting. "It's okay Tommy. Mom is here, it's okay..."
The black Impala rolled over the snowy road, the scenery was rapidly reversing outside the car window, and the cheerful "Jingle Bells" was playing on the radio. Dean in the driver's seat, wearing a black leather jacket with a red Christmas-themed T-shirt underneath, shook his head and mouthed to the music. He was humming out-of-tune lyrics while his fingers were tapping the beat on the steering wheel. Sam, the passenger driver, had neatly combed dark hair and was wearing a dark gray coat. His brows were furrowed tightly and he was flipping through a stack of case documents in his hand. His face was full of impatience, as if this cheerful Christmas song was the most piercing noise in the world.
In the back seat, Bai Haorui was sitting cross-legged, wearing a simple black sportswear. He was running "Three Altars Body-Tempering True Fire Art" with his eyes closed at the moment. There was a faint golden shimmer between his eyebrows, and there was a very light Pure Yang Fire breath lingering around him. Even the air in the back seat was warm, dispelling the chill outside the car.
Dean's humming became louder and louder. Sam finally couldn't bear it anymore and reached out and turned off the radio. The car suddenly became quiet, leaving only the low hum of the engine. "Dean, can you stop singing?" Sam's voice was tense, "Now is not the time for Christmas. We have to find a way to unravel your contract. Do you still have the heart to listen to this?"
The smile on Dean's face faded, and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel, but his voice was still pretending to be relaxed. "Because there is only one year left, I want to have a good holiday, Sam. This may be my last Christmas, I have to miss it a little, right?" There was a trace of imperceptible sadness in his eyes, like ashes covered by thin snow, which were clearly extinguished.
Sam's Adam's apple moved, and he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back, and just held the information tighter. Bai Haorui, who was in the back seat, slowly opened his eyes, and the golden light on his eyebrows disappeared. He reached out and picked up the Coke at his feet, leaned forward and handed it to the two people in the front row. His tone was gentle and a little helpless. "Two living ancestors, please stop quarreling. There is no conflict between searching for clues and celebrating Christmas. Let's have a good holiday, okay?"
Dean took the Coke, opened it and took a sip, and returned to his playful smile, "Haorui understands me, Sam you are just too nervous, life is short, you have to enjoy yourself in time." Sam rolled his eyes at him, but did not refute again, just lowered his head and continued to read the information, but his brows relaxed a little.
Bai Haorui leaned back in the back seat, closed his eyes again, and sighed secretly in his heart: Dean is holding on to the last bit of "normality". He missed so many Christmases in his childhood, and now he is desperately trying to make up for it; Sam dare not touch it, fearing that if he touches the warmth of Christmas, he will be reminded that Dean only has one year left to live, and he is afraid that he will not be able to hold on.
The Impala rolled over the road covered with thin snow, its headlights swept through the frosty pine trees on the roadside, and about half an hour later, it stopped in front of a motel on the edge of the town. The three of them carried their equipment and walked into the room. The room was not big, with two single beds and a small table, and the walls were yellowish beige, giving off a deserted feel.
Dean threw the backpack on the bed, turned around and went out, walked to the back of the car, opened the trunk and pulled out a cardboard box, moved it to the table in the room, and opened it. It turned out to be a tree half as tall as a man. There was a mini fir Christmas tree, as well as a string of colored lights and a few small colored balls. He rolled up his sleeves, awkwardly propped the Christmas tree up on the table, and wrapped the colored lights around it while still muttering, "I grabbed this in the supermarket, and I almost got squeezed to death by some ladies."
Sam was sitting by the bed, still flipping through ancient mythological books, without raising his head, with a "don't bother me" look on his face, but from time to time he glanced at the back of Dean playing with the Christmas tree. Bai Haorui walked to the table and walked from He took out a cinnabar pen from his pocket, dipped the tip of the pen into some cinnabar, and quickly sketched a small Yang Gathering Talisman on the wire of the lantern. As soon as he finished drawing the talisman, he flicked his fingertips, and a wisp of golden-red True Fire came out, and he lightly tapped on the talisman.
In an instant, the lanterns lit up with a "swish". The warm yellow light was wrapped with a touch of Yang energy, illuminating the small room with warmth. Even the cold atmosphere caused by the snow in the air was dissipated a lot. "Add some Yang energy to drive away the evil spirits in the motel, and it will be a Christmas scene." Bai Haorui said with a smile, True Fire slowly gathered on his fingertips.
Sam finally put down the ancient books and threw over a stack of photos and information about the case, which happened to be in Dean's hands. "Three murders, all occurred on Christmas Eve. The victims were all dragged away from the chimney. A bloody leather boot was left at the scene, and -" He pointed to the decoration on the fireplace in the photo, "Every scene has this, a spirea wreath."
Dean picked up the photo and whistled. "Anti-Santa Claus? Specializes in dragging people from chimneys. It's interesting. Spiraea? I remember this flower symbolizes mourning. How come it appears in Christmas decorations? Check! We took this case." He paused while playing with the Christmas tree, and the seriousness in his eyes overshadowed the joke. This might be his last Christmas, and he didn't want this holiday to be stained by blood.
Bai Haorui looked at the mini Christmas tree with warm light flowing on the table, and knew in his heart that this tree was Dean's obsession with the "missing family warmth" and the last bit of normalcy he wanted to seize. His True Fire Art's elementary small application can not only warm the atmosphere, but also ward off evil spirits, and it is also a good idea. When the case is solved, the brothers must have a good time and make up for their childhood regrets.
When we left the motel, it was already dark, and the streets of the town were hung with Christmas lights, but there was an eerie silence. The Impala was parked in front of the Walsh family's villa, and a yellow police cordon was pulled outside the yard. Several local police officers stood guard at the door, their faces full of exhaustion and confusion.
Dean and Sam put on their FBI IDs. Dean dressed up as agent Hamilton, wearing a crisp black suit and meticulously combed hair. He lost his usual playful look and became a bit more capable; Sam dressed as agent Taylor, wearing a dark gray suit, with sharp eyes and the calmness of a top student; Bai Haorui dressed as their assistant, wearing a simple dark shirt, with a gentle temperament but a convincing aura.
The three of them crossed the blockade and walked into the living room of the Walsh family. The fire in the fireplace had been extinguished, leaving only a pile of cold ashes, and the bloody black leather boots were still placed on the pile of firewood, which was very dazzling. Mrs. Walsh Leah was sitting on the sofa, her eyes were swollen like walnuts, her light brown curly hair was messy on her face, and her home dress was still stained with snow particles, feeling grief. She was almost numb, holding Tommy's small coat in her arms, and her fingertips repeatedly rubbed the fabric.
"Mrs. Walsh, we are the FBI, here to understand the situation of the case." Dean's voice was very soft, and he reached out and patted Leah's shoulder gently, with sincere comfort in his tone.
Leah raised his head, his eyes full of bloodshot eyes, pointing to the fireplace, his voice hoarse. "I heard the child's scream, and when I ran out I saw... a boot fell off, and Mike was dragged into the chimney. Tommy was frightened and kept saying that he was a bad boy and that Santa Claus was here to punish him... He said that he would sleep well in the future and let Santa Claus return his grandfather to him." Before she could finish her words, tears fell again and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably.
The local policeman next to him folded his arms and complained speechlessly, "Santa Claus kills people? This case is too ridiculous."
Sam walked to the fireplace and his eyes fell on the meadowsweet wreath on the mantelpiece. The wreath was made of dried flowers, with pale pink meadowsweet wrapped around green branches. It was supposed to be a gentle decoration, but now it had a cold atmosphere. "Mrs. Walsh, where did this wreath come from?" Sam asked.
Leah wiped her tears and said in a weak voice, "It was sold by Mrs. Carrigan in the town. She said that meadowsweet wreaths can bring good luck. Many people in the town bought them. It looked good to me, so I bought one to hang on the fireplace..."
Bai Haorui squatted by the fireplace and took out a bunch of Five Emperor Coins from his arms. The chain made of copper coins hung gently on the meadowsweet wreath. In an instant, the originally warm Five Emperor Coins became bitingly cold, and the cold air ran up his fingertips., the True Fire Pill between his brows shook slightly, and a wisp of Pure Yang Fire Qi overflowed unconsciously. His fingertips gently rubbed the petals of the garland, and he could clearly feel the evil and evil energy entwined inside, mixed with a trace of ancient and violent divine power.
"This flower is not for good luck, it is for sacrifice." Bai Haorui stood up and said with a firm tone, "It is a thing of the pagan evil gods. It is specially used to mark the target of sacrifice. It has a strong evil spirit."
Dean put away all the jokes on his face, his eyes became sharp, and he patted Leah on the shoulder. "Mrs. Walsh, we will definitely find the murderer and give Mike an explanation." Sam quickly wrote down the name "Mrs. Carrigan", his brows twisted into knots, meadowsweet, sacrifice, Christmas Eve.
Bai Haorui clutched Five Emperor Coins and thought to himself: It should be a pagan evil god who specializes in making sacrifices during the winter solstice or Christmas. The meadowsweet is the medium for sacrifice, and specializes in those who feel guilty and consider themselves guilty. I just don't know how much strength these pagan gods who have survived for thousands of years have left in the absence of sacrifices in modern times.
After leaving the Walsh house, the morning light had just spread over the rooftops of the town, and the Impala drove towards Santa's Village in the center of the town. Santa's Village is a Christmas feature of the town. There is a huge Christmas wreath at the door, and several staff members in elf costumes are soliciting tourists at the door. The red and green elf costumes look very lively and give off a cheerful feeling.
The three of them parked the car at the entrance of the village, and as soon as they walked in, a little girl with braids and a green elf costume came over, holding a candy cane in her hand, and her tone was arrogant and perfunctory. "Do you want to take your children to meet Santa Claus? Not allowed if you are over 12 years old. Santa Claus only gives gifts to children."
Dean pointed to Sam next to him and said with a smile, "My brother has been looking forward to meeting Santa Claus his whole life. He just... well, his mental age is 11 this year. Years old." Sam's face turned dark instantly. He glared at Dean fiercely and said back, "He is joking. We are here to investigate the case, looking for Mrs. Carrigan."
The elf rolled his eyes, muttered "boring", turned around and left.
Sam looked at the children coming and going in Santa's Village, watching them holding the hands of their parents, their eyes full of Christmas expectations, and his emotions suddenly became unbearable. He stopped suddenly, his voice filled with grievances and anger that had been suppressed for many years. "I hate Christmas! It's like this every time. Dad is not here, we run away, live in a broken motel, eat cold pizza, and never have a normal Christmas!"
Dean was stunned, and the smile on his face froze for a moment. He looked at Sam's red eyes and opened his mouth, but did not say anything to refute. There was full of heartache in his eyes. He knew Sam's grievances.
Bai Haorui walked up to Sam, patted his shoulder gently, and said in a gentle but firm tone, "What you lacked in childhood, your brothers can make up for it now, so don't compete with yourself." As he spoke, his brows furrowed. True Fire Pill glowed slightly, Pure Yang Fire felt the surrounding aura, "The evil aura and divine power of the pagan evil god are in this town, not far from us. Find the Carrigan family first, don't let emotions affect the investigation."
Bai Haorui's words were like a needle, piercing into Sam's heart, and triggering the softest memories in Dean's heart. In 1991, the motel room was much shabbier than now, with mottled walls and only a dim light on.
Dean was only ten years old at the time, but he already had the composure of a teenager. He was wearing a washed denim jacket and was sitting on the edge of the bed, coaxing Little Sam in his arms. Sam was only five years old, with a round face and a soft body. hair, holding a small box in his arms, his eyes sparkling like stars. "Dean, will dad come back for Christmas? I prepared a gift for him, which is an amulet chosen by uncle Bobby, which can protect dad."
As a child, Dean touched his brother's head and said in a relaxed voice, "Of course, dad will be back after finishing the case, and we will eat Christmas cookies together then." But he knew in his heart that his father John's mission of hunting monsters never ended, and the two brothers would always depend on each other in the motel on Christmas Eve, and John never came back.
Late at night, there was snow outside the window, but John still hadn't come back. Childhood Sam huddled in Dean's arms, crying softly, "Did dad be taken away by a monster? Does he not want us anymore?" Childhood Dean hugged his brother tightly and wrapped his coat around him. His voice was trembling but still firm. "Don't worry, dad is awesome, he will definitely come back."
Sam cried and opened the small box in his arms, took out a wolf fang amulet strung with a red rope, and stuffed it into Dean's hand. "Here, brother, let it protect you. If dad doesn't come back, just protect me." In childhood, Dean clutched the small amulet, his eyes were red, and he hugged his brother tighter. It was the first time that he felt that he had to shoulder the responsibility of protecting his brother.
Bai Haorui felt the emotional fluctuations of Dean and Sam, and felt a sense of sourness in his heart. It turned out that the amulet Dean had been wearing came from this. Childhood Sam transferred all his love and expectations for his father to his brother. The absence of John has been a lifelong thorn in the hearts of these brothers. Now the countdown to the contract of Dean has pierced this thorn deeper.
After coming out of Santa's Village, Sam's mood calmed down a lot, and the three of them drove to the library of the town. The library was built of red bricks, and there was a Christmas wreath at the door. When they opened the door, it was quiet inside, with only the rustle of books being turned over.
The three of them walked to the ancient books area. Sam squatted in front of the bookshelf, flipping through ancient books on Western mythology, and quickly ran his fingers across the pages; Bai Haorui sat on the ground next to him, took out a yellowed notebook from his backpack, and combined it with Western mythology. pagan legends, looking for corresponding clues. The librarian was a middle-aged woman wearing glasses, sitting at the front desk with an indifferent face. She looked up at them from time to time, turned her head and said impatiently to the noisy and playing children, "Be quiet, this is the library."
"Found it!" Sam suddenly slapped the table, his voice was very low, and he was holding a book "Norse Pagan Gods" in his hand, "Holder Macca, the winter solstice pagan evil god, also known as 'Winter Solstice Reaper', originated from the ancient pagan faith of Northern Europe, and later spread to North America with immigrants."
Bai Haorui leaned over, looked at the records on the page, and listened carefully to Sam's explanation. "Holder Macca is not a single god, but a couple of gods. The male body is responsible for strength, and the female body is responsible for sacrifice. They use the winter solstice (Christmas) as a sacrifice. Festivals, by devouring human guilt and life in exchange for strength, maintaining godhead, and bringing so-called 'harvest' to their believers. Meadowfoam is their sacred flower, used to mark the targets of sacrifices - those who hide guilt in their hearts and consider themselves guilty are their favorite sacrifices."
Dean leaned against the bookshelf and whistled. "Holder McCartney? It sounds like the name of a rock band. Meadowsweet, Sacrifice, and Christmas Eve Murders all match up, it's the Carrigans." He didn't run away. These old evil gods have hidden themselves deep enough, and they even sell garlands for marketing." His tone was teasing, but his hands unconsciously tightened the Colt gun around his waist, his eyes full of vigilance and murderous intent.
After leaving the library, the police phone call came, and another Christmas murder occurred in a suburban house. The three immediately drove there, and the scene was exactly the same as the Walsh house: the male victim was dragged away from the chimney, a bloody black leather boot was left in the fireplace, and a meadowsweet wreath was hung on the mantelpiece.
The local policeman stood at the door, speechless and helpless, and complained, "Santa Claus again? This case is getting more and more evil. I think the whole town will not be able to live in peace this Christmas."
Bai Haorui did not speak, and took out the ink line from his backpack. The ink line was soaked with the scent of cinnabar and Pure Yang True Fire. He squatted on the ground, centered on the fireplace, and quickly laid out a small Yang Gathering Array. The ink line was on the ground. Regular talisman patterns were outlined on the board. After laying out the array, he flicked his fingertips, and a wisp of golden-red True Fire sprang out and landed on the eye of the array. In an instant, the eye of the array lit up with a faint golden light. The cold evil aura in the entire room was quickly purified, and even the air became a little fresher.
"Purify the evil spirit first, and don't attract other evil spirits." Bai Haorui pointed to the meadowsweet wreath on the fireplace, "This is the key to attracting evil spirits. The Carrigans are Holder Macca. They use this wreath to mark their sacrifices. We must find their lair as soon as possible and take them away, otherwise more people will be killed."
Dean nodded, Colt gun was already in his hand, and his eyes were stern. "Let's go to Carrigan's house, and we will deal with these old evil gods tonight." Sam quickly recorded the clues on the scene, and began to plan the infiltration tactics in his mind. The goals of the three of them were unprecedentedly consistent.
Bai Haorui was running the Fire Technique, feeling the stable Pure Yang Fire Qi in his body. He knew in his heart that the strength of these pagan evil gods who had survived for thousands of years should not be underestimated, but he was still very confident in himself and Winchester Family.
The Carrigan family lived in an inconspicuous two-story building on the edge of the town. There was a Christmas wreath at the door and firewood piled in the yard. It looked like an ordinary small town house. The three of them put on FBI suits and knocked on the door of the Carrigan house.