Why the Winchesters? (COMPLETED)

9: My First Kill

Mark was gross, the veins in his face bulging and pulsating, his skin black and blue like fountain ink. His hands were morphed into claw-like scoops, his nails sharp and flaked with wall plaster and paint.

And his eyes were completely black, but a different black than the demon's eyes. Mark the Rougarou's eyes looked like he at least held a microscopic shred of humanity.

Dean looked down at me and asked, "Well, little miss I wanna be a hunter, why don't you take this one?"

Sam chimed in, "Just point, pull the trigger, and try not to set the walls on fire."

Henri added, "If you burn down my house, new girl, I will make sure you foot the bill for my new one."

I retaliated, "My name is Andy, and this dump would probably be better off burnt down anyways."

Henri glanced at Dean and whined, "Did she just say she was going to burn my house down?"

Mark edged closer to us.

Dean turned to Henri and yelled, "Would you shut up, Henri? You've caused enough trouble for one day."

"Uuh, Dean?" I muttered as Mark took another shuffle-step.

Sam lowered his flamethrower and stepped between Dean and Henri. "Guys! Stop it! Mark could have attacked Andy and I and you two wouldn't have noticed because you would've been too busy arguing!"

When Sam said that, Mark cocked his head to the side, like a curious dog, and then he lunged at me, covering the span of the room in less than a second.

"GUYS!" I yelped. All three turned, but Mark the Rougarou had me across the room already, dragging me by my left arm out the door, which slammed shut and locked behind us. I heard Sam and Dean yell my name, and Henri yell Mark's.

Right before we started up the rotting stairs, I heard Dean yell, "Andy! The flamethrower!!"

I looked down at my right hand, and suddenly everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. The flamethrower was clutched tightly in my fist. My hand raised, of its own accord, and I could feel the trigger beneath my finger.

I heard, in my mind, Sam's voice, reminding me the order of the steps. Aim for the chest, pull the trigger, avoid the teeth, and don't catch on fire.

Aim for the chest. I raised the can above my head, following the arm that gripped mine.

Pull the trigger. I squeezed, feeling a little bit of relief when I felt the immediate heat washing over the top of me and the squeal of pain that assured me I had hit my target.

Then, instead of letting go of me like I thought it would, the now-flaming Rougarou pulled me up closer to him, as if he was going to try and bite me still.

Avoid the teeth. I twisted out of Mark the Rougarou's melting hand and hit the stairs hard, my head whacking a step below me with a hollow-sounding thunk. Everything went fuzzy for a second and I heard a ringing in my ears. And then I felt the thud as Mark landed beside me on the step, still flaming.

Don't catch on fire. I turned and crawled to the bottom of the stairs as fast as I could, and when I hit the bottom, I rolled around on the hard ground, trying to put out the sparks that had ignited my clothes.

The door burst open, almost hitting my head again, and Sam and Dean grabbed me and yanked me hard to my feet. Dean looked at the burning corpse in front of us and yelled to Henri, trying to be heard over the cracking wood and quickly spreading fire, "Is there another door?!"

Henri went even paler than ohmigod Dean Winchester's gonna shoot me with a flamethrower pale. "No!" he shouted hoarsely. "We're stuck in a house that's burning down with no freaking way out!"