I kept an eye on the Winchester men, following them the best I could. Though it had been a few weeks since I first saw them. I decided to insert myself in their lives, hoping to play 'Hunter' once again. With my knowledge and resources, I found a case in Rock Ridge, Colorado, that the boys couldn't walk away from. Three men are dead so far, due to unknown reasons. My heels clicked against the marble flooring of the coroner's department. I pushed the double door to the morgue, my eyes landing to the right to see the corner and two tall giants across from him.
"May I help you?" The elderly coroner spoke, eyeing up my particular outfit. I dug into my blazer pocket, while walking towards the table.
"Agent Hill, FBI," I flashed the fake FBI badge to him, and the fake american accent that I had perfected over the centuries. However, he briefly looked over the badge before cocking his head to the gentleman.
"Friend of yours?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, making the boys smile for a moment before turning their heads to me.
"They office didn't say they were sending backup," Dean replied with gritted teeth, staring up and down at me.
"Well, neither did they say they were sending out two knuckleheads," I remarked quickly, closing the badge and placing it back in my pocket. "Guess we're both disappointed," a thin smile crossed my face, as I stood at the end of the autopsy table, seeing Dean pull a bitch face. "Proceed," my eyes went back to the coroner who had already cut through the body.
"First dead body?" The coroner asked, flicking his gaze between me and the boys, as he continued to do his job of cutting the body open.
"Far from it," Dean replies, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the process go on.
"Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe," the coroner stretches the skin open, pushing it back to create those flaps, and the internal organs could be seen. "Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?" He nodded his head to the table, where laid the equipment for the autopsy. Dean was the closest to them, so he reaches over and grabs the rib cutters, passing them to the doc. I noticed Sam taking a deep breath, and his face squirming slightly, but he was stopping himself from showing. The sweet sound of bone breaking, and squishing of the organs came to my ears, as my eyes adjusted back to the body.
"Is that from a wedding ring?" Dean questions, seeing that the guy's left hand held a bit of discoloration, due to a ring being sat on his ring finger. "I didn't think Frank was married," he turned his head to Sam.
"Ain't my department," the coroner spoke, not even looking up to Dean, but he continued to cut and do his work. Sam reached out with his gloved hand, and gripped the wrist of the victim, and began to lift it up.
"Any idea how he got these?" Sam questioned, examining Frank's arm which was full of scratches, as if he went to town and scratched himself blind.
"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop," the coroner didn't seem too bothered about his physical injuries, because he already knew what Frank died from. "Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground," out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam lower the arm back to its original position. "Huh," he seemed to be looking at Frank's heart.
"What is it?" I arched an eyebrow up to the coroner but he didn't turn to face me.
"I-I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries," he states, before gripping the heart, and twisting it slightly, breaking it from its position in the body, and ripping it clean out and holding it in his hand. I also saw Dean gag at the action, finding this kind of repulsive. "Heart looks pretty damn healthy. Hold that for a second, would you?" He hands over the heart to Dean, who reluctantly took it.
"Man after my own heart," I remarked, gaining the attention from Dean, but I also saw Sam smirk at my comment. However, out of nowhere, the coroner cuts something else in the body, which releases a spray of blood, hitting Sam square in the face.
"Oh, sorry. Spleen juice," I held back a snigger by pressing my lips together tightly, as Sam's eyes were forced closed, but he tried to open but couldn't dew to the blood running down his face. Dean also held back a laughter that was forming in his throat, but he pushed it down, not wanting to show a level of unprofessionalism.
"I'll wait for you boys outside," I kept my American accent up, before my heels clicked against the floor once again, leaving the men behind, and for them to clean up.
About five minutes later, Sam and Dean exited the morgue, and a red patch was clear on Sam's face, as if he had sandpaper scraped down his cheek. The tapping of my foot echoed throughout the corridor, alerting them both that I was still here, and to the left of them.
"Winchesters', I told you we would meet again," my fake American kept up the cover.
"What's with the shoddy outfit?" Dean announces, as both men stopped in front of me, eyeing up my choice of outfit. While he extended his hand and waved it up and down.
"I think I look quite sexy in this," I leaned back onto the wall smoothly, and bit my bottom lip seductively, eyeing up Dean for a moment. He seemed to squirm under my gaze, but didn't let it show fully. "I got a whiff of the bodies piling up, so, I came," I pushed myself off the wall, and came to stand back in the straight position. "But if you guys want to go at it alone. I could always-" I indicated with my index and middle finger a walking gesture.
"No, we could do with some help," Sam states, not even consulting with his brother on the matter. Dean pulled a face like when did he decide on letting me work with a case with them.
"To the Sheriff's office we go," I didn't allow the Winchesters' a chance to speak, as I swayed my hips forward, and walked away from them. My heels clicking against the marble, echoing me out. I felt their burning gazes into my back, wondering if it was a good choice to allow me on.
...............
In the Sheriff's station, the boys sat on chairs, waiting for the Sheriff to come out and see them. I, however, chose the option of sitting on the table that parted the chairs, meaning I was sat in-between the boys. My leg was cocked over the other, my back up straight as I made direct eye contact with the Deputy, feeling his gaze on me for a moment. Before it shifted from me to Dean, the Deputy smiled at him. Boy crush...
"Hell's bells," the door to the Sheriff's office swung open to reveal the Sheriff. "Linus, have you seen my," he cuts himself off, noticing the boys and I. Which made us all stand to our feet, ready to meet the Sheriff. "Who are they?" He spoke walking out of the confines of his office.
"Federal agents. I, uh"
"And you kept them waiting?" Sheriff cuts Linus off, and cocked his eyes to him.
"You, you said not to disturb," Linus was just following orders that he received from his commanding officer.
"Come on back, Fellas," the Sheriff waved his hand towards him, indicating us to follow him. I'm assuming that I would be allowed into the Sheriff's office. The boys walked towards the Sheriff, as I was left dumbstruck for a moment before catching up. However, the Sheriff holds up his hand, stopping us from entering. "Shoes off... And your secretary can wait out here," he states, locking eyes with me. I was lost for words, clearly it was still a man's world. I opened my mouth to speak and gave him a peace of mind.
"We will call if needed," Dean smirks, cutting me off before I could even form a word. While those two did what he wished and took off their shoes. My eyes narrowed into daggers, and sent them Dean's way, but he just brushed them off. I wandered back over to the chairs, and placed myself down, just in time to see the boys enter the office and the door shutting behind them. I so wanted to punch Dean, and the Sheriff in their smug faces. However, I had to refrain myself, I was acting as 'Hunter' and this sadly was still a mans' world. I crossed my leg over the other, and began to tap the air with my foot, leaning back into the chair. But my eyes glanced over to Linus, who made eye contact with me for a moment, before disconnecting. A smirk came across my face, as a plan was being thought of in my mind. I didn't need the boys to solve this case, I could do this on my own.
"Linus, my buddy," I spoke swiftly, as I rose up from the chair, and my heels clicked against the tile flooring. "Do you know who saw Frank O'Brian last before he died?" I came to stand in front of the Deputy's reception desk, eyeing Linus.
"I believe that it was his neighbor, Mark Hutchins," Linus replied, making sure not to keep eye contact too long.
"Do you have an address?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, but he complied with what I asked, and began to jot down the address of the one Mark Hutchins. He ripped the paper clean from his notepad and handed it out to me with a small smile on his face. "Thank you," with the address in hand, I spun around on my heels, and walked away, heading for an exit. If these boys want to sit me out for unknown reasons, I'm going to find out what is happening.
..............
I arrived at Mister Hutchins house alone, and I imagine the boys aren't far behind. Mister Hutchins opened his door for the FBI, and welcomed me inside. Though it was like a zoo within his living room, tanks scattered throughout. Holding different types of animals, ranging from the snake he had wrapped around his neck, to lizards. Strange company to keep.
"So, why is the FBI interested in my neighbor's Heart attack?" Mark asked with a raised eyebrow, as he carried on stroking his snake.
"We are following every possible lead we have, Sir," I explained smoothly, as he eyes up my legs, as if they were taunting him in some way. "Two other men also died of a heart attack, all having the same symptoms as the last. Can you tell me what Mister O'Brian was doing the night before his attack?" I questioned the man, his head snapping back up to meet my gaze.
"Well it was Monday, he was watching me from his window. I waved at him, but just closed the curtains," Mark replied, giving the answer truthfully.
"Like he was nervous and scared of something?"
"Totally. He was freaking out," Mark cuts into the back end of my question, wanting to be helpful to the course.
"Do you know what scared him?" I questioned, leaning forward in my seated position, wanting to know what was scaring him, that gave his heart to blow.
"Witches," he states, while I frowned at his comment, but he caught on disbelief. "Well, 'Wizard of Oz' was on the other night. And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him," he corrected himself, as it wasn't a real life witch.
"Oh, I always liked the Wicked Witch," I pursed my lips together, finding when I watched the film that she was the best, until she started melting away from water. Who melts from water? Suddenly, something heavy slithered across my shoulder, and came down the left hand side. But I wasn't phased nor scared of what it was. "A Albino snake, she's so pretty," I ran my right hand along her head, and down her scaly body. But she seemed taken with me, as she slithered across my lap.
"I've never seen her warm up to anyone so quickly," Mark states, having a smile on his face, finding this fascinating.
"Was Frank married?" I remember the discolouration on his ring finger, and it was worth a shot.
"Yeah. Twenty years ago, his wife went missing," I nodded my head, understanding what happened. The snake slithered up my other arm as I stroked the scaly skin of the snake.
"Thank you for your time, Mister Hutchins," I smiled, pleased with his cooperation. "However, two other agents might be dropping by as a follow up. Just in case we missed anything," I gave him a warning and a small smile, he nodded understanding what I meant. "Goodbye my dear," my eyes locked onto the snake's as it 'hissed' at me, not a threatening one, like it understood me, and was saying it's goodbyes. The snake slithered back around, and back up my arm and behind the couch. "I'll see myself out," my eyes locked back to Mister Hutchins, as his mouth was agape slightly. But I left him speechless...
Now it was time for some good old research...
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