Antichrist Hunting (Supernatural Fanfic)

Haunting Movie

He notices us enter the set, "Uh, excuse me, Green Shirt Guy?" Dean points to himself quizzically. "Yeah, you. Come here." Brad orders. We all exchange a look as Dean walks over to Brad. "Can you get me a smoothie from Kraft?" He orders. "You want a what from who?" Dean questions. Brad scoffs, "You are a P.A.? This is what you do?" Brad states. Sam and I quickly walk over. "Yeah, yeah... he uh.... One smoothie coming right up." Sam says, turning to walk away.

"What's a P.A.?" Dean asks. "I think they're kind of like slaves." Sam answers. I roll my eyes, "A P.A. is a production assistant." I explain. "Means that they help someone with food, work, etc." I continue. We all look back to Brad who gives us a thumbs up.

I sit from afar watching everyone film. The actors are standing inside an abandoned house, and "Wendy", played by Tara, has a book open in front of her. "Come on, it'll be fun." Wendy says to her friends. She begins reading, in very broken latin. It's painful to the ears.

"Maybe we'll finish this up tomorrow." McG states. "Oh my God, I hate you so much right now. You know?" Tara breaks character. "Cut!" McG yells. Everyone bursts into laughter, "Very nice." McG states.

I catch up with Tara, to help her with her latin. "Who are you?" Tara asks. "Phen...Phenix Summers. I'm just a P.A., but I'm fluent in Latin, as well as a few other languages." I murmur the last part. I keep my eyes glued on the floor. I'm not a social person. Not to say I didn't go to parties in highschool and beginnings of college, I did. I just never talk to many people, besides hunters. "I can help you pronounce your latin lines." I explain. She nods, "Okay." She smiles.

I spend a few minutes helping Tara, before she leaves to get a call sheet from a set of workers.

I sit in my room waiting for Sam or Dean to call me. My cat Simmers sits on my lap as I pet her, sitting on my bed. I look around my room with a sigh. Hell isn't that pretty, unless you look closely. Though, if any mortal came here they'd surely die or be dead already.

*Ring* *Ring* My phone rings, "See ya Simmers." I smile, teleport back to earth.

"Hey, what's up?" I answer. "We're heading to St. James Residence. Meet us there, k?" Dean's voice rings. I teleport over, hanging up, waiting for them to appear.

Sam knocks on the door. "Gerad St. james?" Dean asks. "Yes." Gerald answers. "You're still alive. And you're not Frank Jaffey." Sam sighs, "Uh. no?" Gerald confirms, seemingly confused.

"You were Desert Soldier Number Four in Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn?" Dean asks. "I was." Gerard confirms. "I knew I recognized you. I am a huge fan. Heh heh. I mean, your turn as a tractor crash victim in critters 3-" Gerald cuts him off. "Critters 3!" He exclaims. "Wow. Yeah." Dean smiles, fan boyishly. "Well, please, come in." Gerard welcomes. "I'm gonna chat with Tara again." I whisper to Sam. "Oh sorry, I must go. I have to help an actor." I say, walking out.

I teleport away to my bedroom in hell. My body burns as my wings flap out and my eyes burn darkened blue. I hold my stomach in agonizing pain. If Sam and Dean knew I reacted to blood withdrawals this bad they'd surely see me as a monster. These used to pass easier, when I only had little bits at a time. Though, after the... accident they got worse.

I curl in a ball of pain and tears, squeezing my body tightly. My wings curl around me in a sort of comforting way. Simmers curls beside me, licking my hand to try to help me calm down.

I wake up, realizing how long it's been. I check my clock, thankful it was only the next morning on Earth.

I teleport to Sam and Dean's motel with a plastered smile. My body still aches from all the burning pains, but my wings and eyes have returned to normal.