666 ♛ Crowley

seventeen

[02:40am]

JENNIFER'S PHONE GAVE another soft ping, indicating the arrival of the ninth text that night. The woman ignored it. Tempting as it was, she couldn't bring herself to block the number she knew the texts were coming from. It served as a reminder (not that she needed it) of how naive she'd been.

She refused to admit to herself that she enjoyed the nights spent texting the mysterious King of Hell. A man playing a joke was all he'd been to her then. Not someone who would take her life and flip it upside down the way she felt now.

Now, she was hiding. There was no way to sugarcoat it. Jennifer had been camped out with her brother Tom for the best part of a week. Wrapping her head around everything that happened had taken days; she was still trying to convince herself that it wasn't a dream.

Now, even attempting to live a normal life, she saw monsters wherever she went. Jennifer had convinced herself it was her mind playing tricks on her. The alternative was too horrifying to even contemplate. She saw a flash of black eyes as she wandered down to the shops, caught a glimpse of sharp, pointed teeth in her rearview mirror.

Her dreams were worse. Riddled with dark and bloody nightmares that left her terrified and sweating in the early hours of the morning.

That was why she found herself huddled in the corner of the room, head resting against the cream walls of her brother's spare room, mulling over the last few days for what was probably the twentieth time that day. She found herself wondering how other people coped with finding out just how unsafe the world really was. These monsters must kill hundreds of people every year and yet only a handful of these hunters knew about it.

The woman dragged her open laptop onto her knee and painstakingly slowly filled in her password with one hand. It opened onto her most recently updated page: a collection of research she had been digging into for the past three days. From apparent ghost sightings to demon lore, Jennifer had poured over every internet source of the Supernatural she could find.

It was the only way she was keeping busy. Even at her workplace, a huge office complex in the city centre, she pulled up pages to read instead of filing the report that was due two days ago. If she was going to be dragged unwillingly into this other life, the least she could do is be prepared for anything.

After watching her third video from the 'Ghostfacers' website, Jennifer closed the lid of her computer. A wave of tiredness swept over her. She'd been battling the urge to sleep for the best part of an hour but now she could barely keep her eyes open.

Rubbing her fingers against her eyelids, Jennifer decided she wasn't doing anyone a favour. All she could hope for now was a few hours of sleep, undisturbed by nightmares. Rising unsteadily to her feet, the dark-haired woman pressed her hand to the wall, her legs feeling cramped and sore after hours of sitting uncomfortably on the wooden floor.

A loud buzz from her bedside caused her to jump visibly. Another text. Shaking her head, she moved her fingers to the phone and turned it to silent without looking at it. She'd had enough of the supernatural for one night.

Not bothering to change, Jennifer slipped softly into the crisp sheets, still not feeling quite at home in her brother's plain spare room. She knew she'd have to return home soon, her brother wouldn't tolerate her forever (not knowing anything about the world of the supernatural which she had been so careful to keep him out of).

[5:07am]

Jennifer's head jerked upwards. It seemed to be a pattern of late. But this time, it wasn't nightmares that had caused her to stir. The woman's dreams had been blissfully free of the monsters that haunted her. No, this was something else.

Something in the house.

There had been a crash, she was sure of that now. Her heart was racing in her chest, as though doing its utmost to escape the fear that engulfed her. Her left hand, the one not swathed in bandages, slipped into her drawer and pulled out a kitchen knife. Not, as she had discovered, so much for the monsters, but for her own mindset.

The hand that grasped its handle now was sweaty and shaking slightly. Jennifer shook her head to herself. 'It'll just be Tom' she thought. 'There's nothing to worry about.'

But, of course, that did nothing to reassure her. The house had lain silent in the minutes she sat there, debating whether or not to leave the security of her bed. The dark-haired woman knew that if she stayed, there would be no chance of sleep again.

Tentatively, she rose, hand gripping the knife with all her strength. Her racing blood in her ears was all she could hear, and in the silence it was deafening. The door gave a soft creak as it was eased open.

She peered out. The hallway was deserted. A soft glimmer of light could be seen down the single flight of stairs to her left. Jennifer took a soft breath, steeling herself and then put her foot onto the top stair. One foot moved robotically after another. She wouldn't let herself think too hard about it, for fear of abandoning her plan.

The kitchen door stood ajar. There was a shadowy figure standing by the window, the light of the hall not quite reaching it. Holding the knife before her like a shield, Jennifer reached in and flicked on the light.

The figure jumped and span around. For a second, she could have sworn his eyes turned black. A moment later, she realised she must have been imagining it—because there stood Tom. The woman's heart calmed almost instantly and she hastily stuffed the knife into the waistband of her crumpled jeans.

"Jennifer? What are you doing up?" he asked, almost defensively.

"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed at her overreaction. "I heard something."

He gave a bark of laughter. "Sorry, my bad. I knocked over a glass. I'm heading back upstairs. Shall we?" He inclined his head.

Jennifer nodded slowly. Tom's feet moved in sync with hers as he made his way up close behind her. At her doorway, he paused and grabbed her arm before she could turn away. "See you later."

She shook her arm free and nodded slowly. 'What's up with him?' Her brain, after hours of research and on little sleep, was groggy with tiredness so she brushed it aside. Her bed looked all too inviting after tonight's adventure. The knife her jeans was discarded onto the beside table as she collapsed onto the mattress.

As she drifted back off into a thankfully dreamless sleep, she didn't notice her phone light up to display the latest messages. She didn't see the four missed calls she'd received in the last hour. She didn't notice the last text that had arrived a few minutes after the rest.

Run.