666 ♛ Crowley

nineteen

a/n: sooo, i still exist. re-reading this story has made me cringe just a bit, but hey i wrote some more. do you guys still want me to continue?

~~~

[06:47am]

THE TALLEST OF the three figures, a blond man with his hair cut short to his scalp and wearing the classic black suit of a demon, took a step forward. As he passed into the light of the lamp standing in the corner, Jennifer felt her knees tremble beneath her.

Beside her, the two hunters remained unperturbed; the elder of the two curling his lips into a small smirk. The woman gave a involuntary shudder at the dark look in his eyes. He enjoyed this. Sam, on the other hand, remained emotionless but edged sideways so his body was somewhat shielding Jennifer's.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is, boys. The Winchesters have come out to play." The blond demon spoke with a sneer in his voice. Despite her shaking, Jennifer couldn't help considering rolling her eyes at his confidence. Crowley, at least, had the sense to not underestimate the two hunters she had heard so much about.

"I see Abaddon couldn't make it," Dean replied calmly, with his usual snark. "Had to send her boy toys to do all the work?"

The demon to the right of the apparent ring-leader growled at this, making to move forward but was blocked by the arm of his companion. "Fool," the blond one spat, addressing the demon, who slunk back like a scolded child. He refocused his attention to the three humans stood defensively at the other end of the room. "We're here for the girl."

"Who are you calling girl, you black-eyed son of a bitch?" Jennifer snapped, to which Dean gave her an almost respecting glance.

The demon chuckled, "I see why Crowley likes you so much." Twirling the knife between his fingers, he continued. "It's almost a pity what Abaddon is planning to do with you." He dropped his grin and lazily pointed the knife towards them. "On second thoughts, I wouldn't mind getting a piece of you myself."

"Not happening," Dean snarled, brandishing his Angel blade.

"Oh, Abaddon thought you'd say that." Behind their three adversaries, they could see more suited demons filing into the hallway to stand between them and their freedom. Even when they could no longer see out of the room, they could hear the hurried footsteps of more coming up the stairs.

Jennifer's heart thumped painfully in her chest as she glanced swiftly at her brother's door, which had surprisingly remained closed through all this commotion. In her panic, however, she failed to remember that her brother was a light sleeper, who tended to wake at the slightest sound. Right now, she was thankful they were focused on her and not her brother.

The Winchesters faltered only slightly at seeing the sheer number of foes that now surrounded them. This was not how this evening was supposed to have gone and they were little in the way of prepared. Sam, having glanced down to see the ordinary kitchen knife clutched tightly in the woman's fist, lent over to her. "In the duffel bag," he muttered and nodded to the object lying on the bed.

As the first five demons broke away from the crowding mass on the stairs, the brothers turned away. Dean ducked under the swinging arm of the first and plunging the knife into his stomach and Sam blocked the raised fist of another woman as his blade too entered the demon's body. Both glowed a familiar orange as they dropped to the ground but both men had focussed their attention on the next; Sam, this time, having two demons to deal with.

Jennifer, meanwhile, lunged for the bag. Inside the fabric lay a variety of guns, strange cylinders containing what she didn't know, flasks bearing a cross on the outside and another long silver knife, identical to the Winchesters'. What she did next would haunt the woman for a very long time.

She grabbed the blade just in time with her remaining good hand for a small, wiry looking demon had just broken past the Winchesters, despite their best efforts to keep them away from the civilian.

He grabbed at her, his small fingers closing over the material of the tight shirt she had worn to bed, having been too tired to change. Frantically, she tried to pull away but, as small as he was, he wouldn't relinquish his grip. With his free hand, he jabbed down hard on her plastered arm, making Jennifer cry out and drop the blade as she clutched in agony at her aching wrist.

The mouse-like fellow, still clutching her sleeve in a tightly closed fist, bent down to retrieve his prize. A sudden flash of panic caused her, too, to reach for the knife. She lunged down, using her weight to knock the demon off balance as her hand closed around the handle.

Snarling like a wolf adverted from a kill, he stamped down on her hand, causing her fingers to slip off the blade as they retracted in pain. He made another swipe at the knife but Jennifer kicked at it frantically, making it skid along the floor away from him.

They both dived. The dark-haired woman had only to feel the cold of metal beneath her fingers before she thrust upwards.

She felt as blade connected with flesh and then slide further into the soft skin. She felt as the body above her shuddered once as it glowed a bright orange. She felt the warmth of fresh blood seep between her fingers as the body tumbled and came to its final rest beside her. Jennifer felt her life shift forever.

Stumbling backwards, she couldn't tear her eyes from the body that lay before her. He twitched once, then exhaled for a final time. Blood was still pooling beneath the man as she stared—for a man he had been again, for those few moments before he died. For Jennifer had taken a life, felt a blade slip snugly beneath a human's flesh. She had made that choice, him or her, and now she had to try and live with it.

It was as she stared in horror at what she had done that it happened. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her to her feet. Twisting around frantically, she noticed the hilt of her blade still buried in the body of the other man. The Winchesters were still fighting: Sam was facing off two tall, burly demons, one man and one woman, whereas Dean had three surrounding him, all male, but smaller and less strong-looking than his brother's adversaries.

"I have her, let's move," the one holding her spoke in a monotone voice to three others standing by the door in case the others let someone slip past their attack. But that was not why Jennifer was currently frozen stiff, limp in the arms that carried her. For she knew that voice, so well it might have been her own.

It was her brother.