To Be A Hunter [Supernatural FanFic]

To Be A Hunter.....1

Jane slid her key into the door and kicked it open. Jane had driven out to Whitefish, Montana. She couldn’t believe it when she saw cars in the drive. None of which were ones she recognize, but she knew that hunters had to frequently change vehicles, homes, identities, and everything else. This sort of thing made anything with commitment impossible

Jane laughed absentmindedly at the thought of meeting her real parents, a daydream she has had for as long as she could remember, and telling them that she doesn’t plan on seeing them ever again because of her job, which was in fact hunting.

This hunting was different. Hunting animals was one thing. This was a whole new ballgame. This hunting was the hunting of demons. Yes, demons. They’re real and so are 95% of the other mythological creatures. Jane’s job was to kill them and send them all back to Hell, where they belong. These monsters killed people. Vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, witches—the whole lot—were all real and nothing like the modernized stories. They were true to the original lore, where they were merciless killers without souls.

Jane has been a hunter since the day her foster mom got possessed by a demon and killed three other foster kids. She was seven years old when she just so happened to spill holy water on the foster mom—what a bottle of holy water was doing in their tiny apartment is something that will forever be a mystery to Jane—making the demon takes an emergency exit. That’s just one way to get a demon down.

Jane swung open the door. “Oh honey, I’m home!” She shouted jokingly. “Rufus?” Jane’s voice echoed off the rafters of the log cabin.

CLINK

Jane recognized the sound of someone cocking a gun. She felt the tip of a shotgun pointed at her left ear. Jane froze. She held her hands up and took in her surroundings. It was the same log cabin that Jane remembered. It was her friend Rufus Turner’s. He was a fellow hunter and a trusted alliance. Jane has known him for years.

“Who are you?” A voice grumbled at her.

“Jane,” She answered calmly and lowered her hand to the gun she had hidden. “You’re obviously not Rufus.”

“Rufus is dead!” The low voice shouted.

Jane felt her heart drop into her stomach. She felt her knees buckle slightly. She leaned against the wooden door to keep herself from falling.

“What?” Jane asked, her voice wobbly, but she would not cry.

“He died a hero,” The voice lowered its volume. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see Rufus. We’re friends,” Jane shrugged. “Were friends,” She corrected herself.

“Well he isn’t here so get out.”

“Wait,” Jane said and found her courage. “I was his friend, so who are you? What gives you the right to be here?”

She turned her head slightly to see the man with the gun. He was older, with a round belly, a flannel plaid shirt, a dark and stained cap on his head, and a scruffy dirty face. He looked as tough as nails.

“I was his best friend,” The scruffy man replied.

“Says you,” Jane retorted and crossed her arms. “We worked together. I’ve known him since I was 16.”

“And when was that, yesterday? I’ve known him since 1984!” The man shouted, lowering his gun so he could step forward. “I’ve worked with that man for so long I—“

“So you’re also a hunter?” Jane interrupted.

“Yeah,” the man grunted and dropped his gun by his side.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” He grumbled. “Jane, right?”

Jane nodded and uncrossed her arms. She followed the scruffy man a few feet to the kitchen table. The cabin had a large open layout. The kitchen was in the middle of the living room and the entry way. It was nice though. Jane took a seat at the wooden table, which was littered with booze bottles, newspapers and books that looked older than the man.

“Coffee?”

“Make it Irish and hold the coffee,” Jane sighed and ran her hands through her blonde hair. She couldn’t wrap her mind around this. Rufus was dead? It made sense. He hasn’t contacted her in months. He was an older hunter. Jane couldn’t imagine how hard hunting must be for an old man who is stiff and slow.

The man chuckled and poured two glasses of rum, setting them on the table with a clink. He then pulled a small vial of water out and dropped a drop onto Jane’s skin. She guessed it must be Holy Water and that he was making sure she wasn’t a demon. Jane didn’t bother him about this. She was thinking of how she could test him as well.

“He died on the job,” The man grumbled after taking a shot from his glass. “It wasn’t some stupid little monster either. This was something we had never seen. It was new.”

“But Rufus knew about all monsters,” Jane mumbled.

“Correction,” The man grunted. “Rufus knew and called me, the man who knows all and researches the rest.”

Jane felt a slight smile. She drank all of the liquor in her glass before she got a chance to talk again. The front door swung open. Two tall dark-haired men were carrying bags of greasy food and gallons of cleaning supplies in the other. Both were very attractive. They were tall and muscular. One had hazel eyes and the other had brown. Hazel eyes had short brown hair and one cocky smile. Brown Eyes had long brown hair and the longest sideburns Jane had ever seen aside from 1970’s movies.

“Well, we got food and supplies!” Hazel eyes shouted and held the greasy fast food bag above his head as if it were a gold trophy.

“Well congratulations,” the old man grumbled sarcastically. “Two grown men were able to buy food. Oh my. Let me call Guinness’ Book of World Records, we have a miracle on our hands.”

Jane grinned again and spun her keys around her index fingers.