Supernatural: The Long Night

Issue #32 Destin...a Supernatural TLN Series

  Florida, Jesse Turner sighed, looking out at the coastline. He remembered when his parents brought him here, and had taken him to an international museum and zoo where his father had bought him an Australia Poster because back then he had wanted to be a Crocodile Hunter, like Steven Irwin. But now it was not going to happen, he was cursed to spend the rest of his days in solitude, living only to be hidden from the world.

 

He had been adopted, which probably was a good thing because of what his mother was—or had been. She had been a demon, possessed for the whole pregnancy period of which Jesse Turner was born from. Soon as the demon no longer possessed the mother, she put Jesse up for adoption, unwilling to kill him.

He had lived a normal life; his parents might have been busy with work all of the time, but that was normal. Until the Winchesters showed up he was just a kid. Then he discovered he could do things no man could do. It wasn’t safe for him anymore, and it certainly wasn’t safe for his parents. So he left, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

 

What had life been like for the past couple years? Well, now he was thirteen years old and his powers it seemed were unlimited, if he wanted to do something he could.  Where did he live? In a foreclosed house on seashore drive.  No power, no problem. His powers were unlimited, he could make the power work, and he could even run the shower, the TV and the radio. But was it lonely? His hours of solitude would have been hell if he hadn’t found him, a Rottweiler; a Hellhound. The demon before had gotten furious because it didn’t find someone she was looking for so she kicked it to the curb. How did Jesse Turner know this? He was the Anti-Christ. He simply asked it.

The beast was the size of a horse it was so large. It didn’t take very long to know that normal people couldn’t see it. His name was Brutus, and when he spoke to Jesse his voice was very deep, and his communication was more telepathic than verbal. Brutus took his new masters words into consideration every time, and would not question his methods, because Jesse had never laid a cruel hand on him. He would die for him.

 

Hank Tyler however, would die for no one, only for himself. That was probably why this balding man had no family, no good career and no life. He simply sold hot dogs, charging 6 bucks a dog and 4 for a bottle of water. He didn’t give charity, and that’s why he was disgusted when he saw a scrawny teen walk up to him with no change in his pockets. He looked like he had simply come over to talk.

Jesse walked up to a concession stand. “One hot dog please.” The man stared at the boy, who had no cash and no methods of paying. But unlike the usual rejection that Hank Tyler would give, his simply mind went blank as he handing him the meal.

The boy also grabbed water and turned to leave, “You’ll forget this even happened. And who I am.”

Instead of realization the balding man nodded dumbly, Jesse Turner walked away. That had been no effort at all for him. He continued on, pausing only to look at a girl playing volleyball. She had long blonde hair, was in her early teens, and had a normal life. Jesse now realized how much he envied her. Oh, well. He sighed. He’d better get home. Brutus was probably wondering where he was at.