1 - Bedside

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You sat on the rough matted carpet, back against the tattered leather sofa on which Dean was sprawled out on. You gripped your knees, bruised and bloodied, to your chest and tucked them away under your hoodie, once a light grey colour, now dyed with red splatter and muddy streaks. The fire danced in its hearth, too bright and alive for your tired eyes, but warm and comforting for your tired bones. The cabin the three of you sought refuge in, though not homely, kindled a sense of safety in your mind, as the gallery of warding painted across the walls promised. You looked to Dean, who had taken the worst of the beatings during this most recent hunt, evident by the deep cuts, grotesque bruising and pulsing swelling that manipulated his features, his face bejewelled by a busted lip and mangled nose. His breathing laborious; a shallow wheeze accompanied by the heavy rise and fall of his chest, diagnostic of bruised lungs. It was painful to listen to, so you could only imagine how agonising it must be for him, but you were glad he was resting. You wondered what he was dreaming about, for the last few months only nightmares plagued your sleep, you hope its not the same for him. Every night, every monster and every hunt replays in your subconscious, except this time you don't make it out alive. In your twisted dreams, your luck runs out, and no man or angel saves you, finally death takes your hand. Tonight, you have no doubt, it will be this hunt that torments you, though your mind won't have to take many creative liberties in its retelling, because on this hunt everything went wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

West Plains, Missouri had reeled you three codependent hunters in, with grizzly animal attacks headlining the news as bait, and some twisted evil monster as the trophy.

You and Dean, decorated as FBI agents and dressed in authority, were making your way back to the Impala, comparing notes and swapping theories based on the autopsy and interview findings you spent the day amassing.

'Well its not like we're out of options for what killed that girl,' you remarked, flicking through the images of a mutilated female corpse.

'Drained of blood, missing heart, missing liver, missing-well- everything! Sure we hunt monsters, but even monsters are picky eaters,' Dean groaned, as clueless as you, 'Maybe it's something new, eats everything, sips on blood, sucks out the bone marrow?' he posited.

'Or it's everything... working together,' you grumbled in return, the idea itself made you feel outnumbered.

'Huh? Like some kind of pick and mix pack? Vamps and werewolves putting aside their differences for the greater bad!' Dean's arms waved about to emphasise his exasperation.

You shrugged. The sun had dipped below the horizon while you were paying a visit to the morgue, and complete darkness overcame the town as you decided to retire for the night.
You reached for the back door handle, but Dean pulled you back by the collar and clasped his thick hand over your mouth just as you were about to petition his rough movement. He pointed at a roof across the main street, tucked away behind a few buildings in the foreground. The dim yellow street lights faintly illuminated a crouching figure. You watched it stand up straight and tall, then jump to a hidden alley below, a few seconds later, a woman's deafenning shriek of terror .
You both raced towards the scream, maneuvering through the back passages, splitting up in opposite directions so to cut off its exit. You turned the final corner ready to kill whatever the figure was. The single blade you gripped was unprepared to face the gathering of six or so muscular men savagely tearing into the corpus of an unidentifiable female, pulling tendon and fibrous tissue from bone. One of them lifted their head, inhaling the smells carried on the wind, and just as his head snapped towards you, you dived behind a dumpster just in time. But it was too late, your scent gave you away. There was a car parked a few metres away from you, and in the reflection of its headlight you watched the monsters peel away from their meal and slowly face your direction.

Freedom of Fate ~ CastielxreaderNơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ