(I am so sorry it took so long holy cow! I have four more shots though to make up for it!! I hope you enjoy Corfur's second version! Tell me which one you preferred!)
I sat in the rafters of an abandoned bar on the corner of Snelling and Franklin avenue. One of my legs swung back and forth in the air while the other was propped up on the rafter I was seated on. I hummed a soft tune while sharpening one of my blades, and listened to the wind whistle outside through the hole in the roof. This was my one time of peace. The only time I really had to relax, and just breathe, so imagine my upset when it was so rudely interrupted.
The door to the bar creaked open and my humming came to a sudden halt. My head snapped up and I sheathed my blade, lifting my dangling leg and leaning into the shadows more. Well this was new. Barely anyone came to this side of the town. Sometimes a group of rowdy teenagers would come by trying to explore, but this was different. The teenagers were loud. Whoever this was, well, they knew how to sneak their way around.
Two men stepped into the bar, looking around cautiously. One of them was tall with shaggy hair and the other was also tall, but shorter than shaggy, and they both held flashlights. In the dim natural light from outside, I could tell they were older than any old teenager. Maybe in their thirties, and they each wore some form of plaid.
"Alright this creepy enough for you?" The shorter man asked, his voice deep and gruff. Shaggy scoffed and let his flashlight roam over the room. "Well come on Dean we've checked all around town. It's gotta be here," He said, his voice much smoother than that of his partner. I eyed them carefully. It was clear they weren't any form of authority. If so, they probably would be wearing something different, along with addressing each other through last names.
"Yea, and creepy bar just screams werewolf don't it?" The man I now knew as Dean fired back. I almost let out a laugh. Werewolf. So that's who these guys were? Freaks that looked for fictional creatures? Now that was just sad. Nonetheless, the men searched the bar, then exchanged looks. "Maybe we were wrong. Let's go check that barn up the road one more time," Dean spoke again and the other man nodded, then as quickly as they had come, they were gone.
But....I didn't hear the car engine start. I frowned slightly. They knew I was here. They were waiting for me. Great. No I had to deal with a couple of whack jobs who thought I was some kind of monster. I rolled my eyes and silently crept out of the hole on the roof and peeked over to see exactly what I expected. Dumb and dumber where waiting right outside the entrance on either side, guns drawn. Wait...Why would these idiots have guns? They were just wanna be ghost facers right?
I drew my own gun and aimed it. I didn't want to kill them. They hadn't given me reason. Yet. So I'd just...Teach them a lesson. I quickly fired to shots at each of their weapons, feeling satisfied as they both jumped as my bullets knocked each gun out of their hands. I was thankful I had my silencer on so no one near by would hear, and slid down the roof dropping on top of the tall one's shoulders. I flipped back brought him with me, pinning him on the ground.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled, informing me of his partners name, and lunged for me. I easily slid out of his grasp and tripped him, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind him, kneeling on his back and aiming my gun at his partner. "Who the hell are you and why do you freaks have guns?" I demanded, eyes hard and jaw set.
Sammy made a move to stand back up and I pressed my finger to the trigger of my gun. "Don't," I growled, watching as he sank back, watching me carefully, his eyes flicking to Dean before back to meet mine. "So...You're the son of a bitch that's been terrorizing this town huh?" Dean grunted from his position beneath me.
I didn't let my eyes leave Sammy. "If you think I'm a werewolf you're wrong. You poor idiots are chasing ghosts. Werewolves don't exist, hate to break it to you," I snapped. Sammy looked surprised by my response. "Wait...What?" He spoke and I let out a dry laugh. "Oh my you two are just the worst kind of stupid. Believing in monsters...Sorry sweetie did I break your little heart?" I mocked, causing Sammy to look even more confused.
"Sam I don't think this chick is our girl" Dean huffed, and Sammy...or Sam..frowned. "But Dean the trail of missing hearts led us here...We've looked everywhere, this is the last place, and the-" I let out a laugh. "You bafoons are following that? Oh boys..Boys boys...You'd better be careful. That ain't no monster. That's a serial killer on the loose. And if you boys don't stay away from the big kid games, you might just end up missing a heart,"
I shook my head at them "Such innocent little boys. Oh you two wouldn't stand a chance out here," I released Dean, deciding he wasn't a threat to me. As soon as I backed away he sprung up and brushed himself off, glaring at me while Sam hurried to his side, making sure he was okay. There was a look of concern in his eyes, one that differed from the look friends give each other.
It clicked in my brain these two were more than friends. "Brothers," I muttered. "You two are brothers aren't you?" The two exchanged weary glances. "Look lady we don't know who you are or why you were in there or why you have a gun for that matter, so why don't you back the hell off," Dean snapped.
"Fair enough," I hummed and flashed dumb and dumber a smirk. "Such innocent little boys," And with that, I turned and walked to my sleek black pontiac firebird, which I'd parked on the pub's abandoned lot, and drove off, wiggling my fingers in farewell as I passed, leaving the strangest men I'd ever met, in the dust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clock on the wall of the Clover Ridge bar struck seven. The sun was setting, and the drunks were just entering the bar, preparing themselves for a night of wasted horny desires and lost bets. Sam and Dean Winchester Sat in a booth facing each other, each with a beer of their own. Sam had Bud light because he was a pussy, and Dean, the darkest guinness on tap because dark beer was the best beer obviously.
"Tell me that chick didn't seem suspicious to you," Sam mumbled, taking a sip of his pussy beer. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "Well of course she did Sam. But I'm damn sure she ain't our guy. You saw how positive she was that we were idiots," He replied, chuckling softly. "Gotta give it to her though. If I wasn't a hunter, I'd think we were crazy too,"
Sam gave a small hum of agreement at that and ran his tongue across his lips, the taste of cheap alcohol lingering on them. "Do you think she was telling the truth? Maybe we got it wrong maybe this is just a serial killer, out on the streets," He spoke, and Dean could almost see the gears turning in his brothers head. "Come on Sam, since when are we ever wrong about something?"
Sam looked at his older brother with his signature bitchface. "Dude. Try like...Every other day," He scoffed and took another drink. Dean simply shook his head, his eyes rolling dramatically. "This girl may not be the guy we're after, but we are looking for a wolf. And I think...I think she knows something. Something that I intend to find out" Dean declared, his own gulp of beer almost violent, as opposed to Sam's sip.
"You boys talking about Corfur?" A nasally, almost high pitched male's voice called, causing the duo to snap their heads over in the direction of the sound. A man, who looked to be in his late forties or early fifties, stood behind the bar facing the booth Sam and Dean sat in. His bearded face resembled a pug much more than a man, and his sallow skin only made him resemble the canine even more.
"What?" Sam asked, his brow creasing. "If that happens to be the name of this towns serial killer then yes," Dean added in, catching what the bar tender was talking about. He hummed taking another swig of his drink. "Yea that'd be the one," The bar tender confirmed. "Killings have been goin' on for a good few months now. Happens 'round other cities close by too," He continued, shaking out a filth covered rag and beginning to wipe down the counter.
"Huh," Dean mumbled. The brother's hadn't been aware their case expanded into different towns. Sam was leaning towards the man by now with peaked interest. "Could you tell us more about the killings? And this Corfur character?" He asked, hoping they could dig a little deeper, find out for sure whether or not this Corfur was a killer or a monster. "Well sure. But it'll cost ya," The man flashed a toothy grin, a gold tooth glistening in the dim lighting.
Sam sighed to himself but moved his hand to his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking out a twenty and walking over, handing it to the man who took it with a hum. "Ask away," He spoke, and Dean sauntered over to sit on the stool beside his brother. "When exactly did the killing's start? And how did this killer get his name?" Sam asked the first most important questions right off the bat.
The bar tender rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Well...The killings in town began a few months ago, but in reality, this killer's been out there a long long time. You see Corfur is a serial killer. Surprised you two ain't heard of him. He's made quite a name for himself over the past couple years. He's mostly stayed in this part of town for his past killings but he really goes all over. They know it's him 'cause he carves the hearts out of his victims every full moon. They call him Corfur because in latin it roughly translates to heart thief,"
Sam and Dean listened closely, both wearing similar expressions of peaked interest. "This Corfur guy...Anyone actually seen him before? Have there been any witnesses to the attacks?" Sam asked, thoughts zooming through his head at a million miles per hour. The bar tender rubbed the back of his nose with his hand and sniffed. "Actually, there was one. A witness. Anita Kendrick. Just last month. She saw Corfur make his latest kill,"
Dean raised his eyebrows and snuck a peek at his brother. "Do you think you could tell us where to find her?" He asked eyes snapping back to the bar tender. "Sorry pretty boy. I ain't given out information like tha-" The man's words died on his lips as the brothers pulled out their fake FBI badges and flashed them at the same time. "Oh...Agents...Of course...And here's your money back," The bartender gave a sheepish chuckle and Dean snatched the money back with a not so subtle roll of his eyes. "Now. We'd really appreciate an address,"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh agents it was terrible! There...There was blood everywhere! D-dripping down my h-husbands chest...Oh god," The middle aged woman sat on her pale yellow couch blubbering over her cup of tea. Tears and snot leaked down her aging face, and the brothers grimaced. Dean wordlessly handed her the box of tissues that sat on the coffee table separating them.
"Thank you," She sniffled, taking out a handful, and dabbing at her cheeks. She set her cup down, the rather unappealing brown liquid sloshing over the edge, and blew her nose. "I'm sorry it was just...So so terrible," She sobbed. Dean looked at his younger brother who was watching Mrs. Kendrick with a sympathetic look on his face.
"We are truly sorry for your loss ma'am," He spoke sincerely. "Now...We do have a couple of questions for you about what you saw," He continued, keeping his tone of voice low and soothing. Dean shook his head slightly. He didn't know how Sam did that. How he could slap on this...Worried psychologist facade so easily. His brother truly was a freak.
"Yes...Yes of course. What would you like to know?" Anita Kendrick asked, managing to gather herself together as much as she could. "Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone that would like to harm him?" Dean decided to pipe in at that moment, watching the woman with curious eyes. Anita quickly shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing.
"No no no. Nothing like that. Everyone who met Mark loved him," She assured, setting the crumpled tissues on the coffee table and retrieving her beverage. "Could you give us a description of Corfur? Even if you didn't see his face, anything would help," Sam asked, taking the conversation back from his brother.
Dean took this moment to glance around the house, really take it in. It was huge. Gigantic. There was a beautiful crystal chandelier hanging above them, and portraits of who he assumed was Mark, with Anita, on the walls. Even some replicas of famous paintings. Dean had been surprised to see just how big the house was on the outside...Well more like mansion. But on the inside it almost seemed even bigger.
"Well it was dark...Mark and I were walking to our car from a dinner party at our friends house. We had to park a little farther down since all the spaces were taken up. Deb loves to fill her house to the brim with people," Anita paused, a small smile on her soft pink lips, as if recalling the night. Her smile soon faded.
"As we kept going I realized I had forgotten my purse. I turned back, and Mark continued on, saying he'd get the car started...I was just about at the house when I heard him scream...I ran back, calling his name only to see him fall. H-his chest was...Carved open...Blood was-was gushing out and...and his heart was...missing. That was when I saw a dark figure run off. Whoever it was...They were fast,"
The brothers listened closely to Anita's story, trying to find anything useful. "Did you happen to see his face? Or could you give us a size description?" Sam asked, keeping his tone gentle. He didn't want the woman to think him rude. "Well...He was about..." She stood and held a hand out a few inches above her own head. "This tall I think,"
Dean's face scrunched in confusion. Anita wasn't very tall. She was a petite woman, so adding a few inches to her height, really wasn't all that much. "Thank you. Is there anything else you can tell us?" Anita shook her head. "I think that's all. Oh, well, Mark had been acting a little funny for a week or so before...Like he wanted to tell me something but couldn't. Who am I kidding it was probably nothing," She spoke, and sighed.
"Well...Thank you ma'am. We appreciate your time," Sam have her a nod as the brothers headed out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dean what'd ya find?" Sam asked, his phone held to his ear. "Well looks like Mark, and the rest of Corfur's victims weren't so innocent themselves. Mark had been having an affair with his secretary. That was probably what he was hiding from his wife," Dean spoke, making his way out of Selena porter's house. The poor girl had cracked within the first two questions.
"Oh, and the dick was stealing money from hospital donations that his business sends in every few months," Dean informed his brother, shaking his head. Sam scowled "Who does that?"He commented, eyeing the police files he had, and his own printed research about the rest of the unlucky men who encountered Corfur.
"But I think we have a pattern. The rest of Corfur's victims have been ass holes too," Sam continued, beginning to pace the motel room. "I guess we've got a werewolf with a type," He heard a sigh snicker over the phone. "Seems like it. Did you find anything that'll tell us who his next victim might be?" Dean asked, driving the Impala back to the motel.
"No...We'll just have to go out tonight and see if we can stop him before he makes his next kill. And Dean? Be careful. The moon is rising in ten minutes. You won't be back by then," Sam said, an uneasy nervousness seeping into his gut. Selena Porter lived about forty five minutes outside of town, and his brother was out during the moon rise. That information didn't sit well with him.
Dean scoffed over the phone. "What you saying I'm an asshole? I ain't Corfur's type Sammy. Now make sure you're ready to go when I get there. We can gank ourselves a wolf, and ditch this joint," With that, Dean ended the call. Sam sighed and shook his head. His brother had a way with words.
Dean tossed his phone onto the car seat and focused back on the road. His mind was focused on the case at hand. He sighed and turned up the music, continuing his trek to the motel. Only just outside of town, Dean realized he had to take a leak. And Bad. He glanced around and spotted a gas station, pulling up into a parking place and going inside to relieve himself.
Now, Dean wasn't one for jump scares but good lord. The eldest Winchester had just unlocked his car when a dark blur body slammed him and pinned him against the wall. He just about screamed. "So...You're the one who's been on my tail," The voice sent shivers crawling down Dean's spine. He was torn on whether to be terrified, or turned on.
"Lemme guess...Corfur," He managed to choke out, the knife against his neck inching closer to his artery. A hum that slowly turned into a chuckle emerged from the masked strangers lips. "Clever clever. So what are you then? Cop? FBI?" Dean licked his lips nervously. "Try hunter," He spat, before something dawned on him.
Corfur had him pinned to the wall. With a knife. A knife. Werewolves kill with their sheer muscle and animalistic brutality. This...This was experience. This was a criminal. "A hunter?" Corfur scoffed. "You gonna kick my little bambi ass?" He mocked. That was something else. Corfur's voice. It was...Slightly higher. Not what Dean would expect in a man...
"You...You're a chick," Dean would later kick himself for the oh so brilliant observation. Corfur blinked at him for a moment before she smirked. "Didn't expect that did you sexy?" She hummed, leaning in close. They were inches apart and Dean was finding himself almost enjoying this turned on, terrified feeling. Corfur picked up on it easily.
"Oh you kinky bastard. You like this don't you?" She smiled, showing off her pearly whites. "Good. Me too," And with that, her warm soft lips where dominating over Dean's, and Dean swore he couldn't breathe. He had no idea what on earth possessed him to do so, but he kissed back. Their mouths moved in sync before suddenly, her blade was at his chest.
"Hm...That was a nice little surprise. Usually my victims don't enjoy it as much as I do. You see I love watching men squirm. Watching them writhe, beg for me to stop. Turns me on," She purred, digging the knife into his chest. Dean gasped as the tip of the blade entered his skin. "You're not a werewolf," He breathed.
For a moment confusion showed in her eyes before recognition set in. "Right. I almost forgot you freaks believe in that crap," And suddenly Dean felt like the biggest idiot in the world. "It's you...From the abandoned bar...It's you...You're her," Corfur grinned. "Yahtzee," Dean stared for a moment before movement caught his eye.
His gaze flickered behind Corfur to see Sam raising his gun at her. Apparently she had eyes in the back of her head because before Dean could so much as open his mouth, she had dissapeared into the night, Sam's finger barely reaching the trigger. He hadn't even had a chance to shoot. The brothers stood there in shock for a moment before Sam rushed over.
"Dean! Are you okay?" He asked, scanning his brother for injuries. Dean shook his head to clear away the fog. "Yea...Yea I'm good," He panted, massaging the small incision on his chest. "Dude...We were so over our heads with this one. Remember that chick from the abandoned bar? It was her. And she really is a serial killer," He explained.
Sam's eyebrows shot to his hair line and his jaw dropped. "Wha- are you...Are you serious?" He spoke, shock coating every word. Dean nodded, eyes big. "Yea. And she's a psychopath....A hot one though," Sam deadpanned. "Only you would find something like that hot Dean," He scoffed and Dean grinned. "Whatever. Let's get out of here,"
.....
"Hey Dean?"
"Yea?"
"I told you, you were her type,"
"Shut up,"