Name: Kristena Singer
Nickname: Kris or Kristy
Family: Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle (parents)
Personality: Sarcastic, resourceful, clever, happy, sometimes random, generally acts her age (not)
Eyes: greenish-blue (for now)
Hair: Light brown, a little wavy, layered short in the front and longer in the back
Height: 5 feet, 5 inches
One month after Dean was sent to Hell
I throw some more holy water on the demon. He's stuck in a devils trap that moi made and I'm enjoying every second of it. Every since my brother, Dean, went to Hell, I've been taking out my frustrations on the unfortunate demons I come across.
"And Sam still hasn't called me back," I finish, crossing my arms.
"Just exercise me already," he says.
I stick my tongue out at him.
"Shut up! You're a demon, you've got nothing better to do," I say, slightly offended.
And here I thought we were really connecting.
"Look, this has been great, really, but I have to report back to the big boss that my mission was a success," he says.
My brows pull together.
Then a pair of strong arms wrap around me. Another demon. How the hell did I not notice this?
I feel something hot near me, and I struggle. Lucky for me, I'm wearing a jacket, jeans, and boots tonight-so there isn't much skin to get with the aforementioned hot thing. Unlucky for me, my struggling makes the hems of both my shirt and jacket rise up. The thing-which I soon realize is a hot branding iron-scorches the span of fleshy skin exposed above my right hip. I scream.
My hand immediately travels to the demon knife in my belt. I twist around and shove the knife into the chest of the demon holding me. He screams out and sparks fly from the knife-but I hold it still until the man-and the demon inside him-fall dead.
The other demon, who somehow freed himself from the devil's trap, sends me a wicked grin and a two-fingered salute. Black smoke pours from the human's mouth that he inhabits. It rapidly clears the room, leaving me with a burning new injury and a head full of questions. And a dead body. I can't forget about the dead body.
Before I can grab my phone to call 911, the pain in my hip suddenly explodes with even more pain. I fall to the floor, screaming with pain so intense that I nearly black out. I've felt pain before, but not like this. Not consuming me inside and out, everywhere at once. Slowly, the pain fades away and I'm left with a feeling like a great amount of time has passed. When I look at my phone, I estimate that I was in that vortex of pain for maybe five minutes total. Unsure about what to do, I call Sam. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't pick up and I'm left with his voicemail for probably the thirtieth time in the month that Dean has been gone.
"Sam," I say to the recording, "Sam, something's happened. Some demons did something to me. I need help."
I hang up. This is no ordinary burn. I consider calling dad, but I don't want to worry him with something unimportant. Dean's death hit him as hard as any of us. I don't think he's even been out on a hunt since Dean was sent to Hell. I myself am not doing well, but I'm not about to go whining to my father.
YOU ARE READING
Saved by an Angel (a Castiel love story)Fanfiction
When an unknown force pulls Kristena Singer and her older brother, Dean from Hell, they come face to face with an angel. As the Apocolypse grows closer, Kristy finds herself inexplicably drawn to the angelic soldier-but his seemingly impassive exter...