Chapter 1: Opening Curtains
"S-stop! Or I'll…or I'll!" the girl exclaimed from her position against the wall, squealing like a little pig in a slaughter house. Her small body shook in fear as she dragged herself down the wall. "Tha—"
I shoved her back against the brick walls of the alleyway while laughing like it was the funniest thing in existence. She was just adorable. I wondered if she actually thought that she could stand a chance against us. I just loved pseudo-tough prey like her. She was hand-picked, actually. I found her and I knew that she sure as hell did not take kindly to it.
"Aren't you the cutest little thing, I could just eat you up." I taunted, puffing my lips out mockingly.
"N-no! I was ju— I will end you, Meg!" she exclaimed to me (since my name is Meg and all), her tattered arms pounding against the surface of the wall as a couple of the demons secured them more effectively in place, not allowing for any more movement. "I will end all of you!"
"You've overstayed your welcome on our little domain," someone from our gang (which, by the way, we decided to call Demons) jeered, flashing her pocketknife. "What were you doing? How did you get here? Tell us."
"I followed you here!" the girl said. She gasped as one of the Demons slammed their fist into her stomach, silencing her quickly.
"Well, look here, we've a thinker in the house, now don't we?" a soft drawl highlighted by its overly dramatized Scottish accent spilled from the back of our tightly knit group.
The Demons immediately dispersed as their almighty, powerful king (that is sarcasm, in case I didn't make it clear enough) stepped towards the girl.
"C-Crowley," she snapped, pushing herself up to the fullest height she could muster in her weakened state. I really had to wonder why she even tried to look dignified at all. She was an absolute mess.
"Look what we've fished from the playground, a makeshift Hunter-kid who decided she could play with the big kids," I pointed out with a smirk.
(Oh, let me take a moment to explain who the Hunters are. They are just this group of kids who decided to try and hunt us gang members and stuff down. Great, right? A lot of their parents worked in the police area, so that's where their inspiration must have spawned.)
"And it's little, 'ole Jo," Crowley said in his mocking voice made even more unbearable by the bored quality in it.
"Screw you!" Jo panted, trying to keep her head up as sticky red streamed from her upper brow.
I leaned in closer to her, grinning broadly at the fear hidden behind her eyes. "What are you doing here? You should be at home with mummy and daddy, shouldn't you, hotshot?" I insisted in a tone that an overexcited mother would use to a baby. "Oh wait," I added, delivering the punch line of my joke.
It had the exact effect I was aiming for. A pained noise tore from her throat as she practically threw herself at me, screaming insults as best as she could. Of course the little munchkin couldn't launch herself that far, seeing as my buddies had enough of their hands full with her.
"You're just a pathetic bitch who can't do anything!" Jo screamed.
She was starting to annoy me, so I socked her in the jaw. The Demons around me burst into laughter in the deserted end of the street, edging me on. It was quite motivating.
Jo let out a small cry of pain as her head slung to the side from the force of my head. I found it very amusing how easily you could break a little kid like her, or anyone really if you tried hard enough.
I withdrew my hand and punched her again, nearly beside myself with exhilaration. Adrenaline urged me onward and the affects of the booze I had downed earlier even more so clouded any form of a conscious that tried to worm its way into my, well, consciousness.
Jo fell to her knees this time, groaning when her bare skin tore as it made contact with the sandpaper-like surface of the dusty, crumbling brick wall.
Hey, I never said I was perfect or even a remotely likeable protagonist. Whoops, sorry, did you think I was? Think again. But, give me some credit; at least I was loyal to my cause.
So anyway, for the most part, I just wanted her to beg for her life. I quite enjoyed it when they did that.
I crouched down as her head bowed and she seemed to finally decide that it may be in her best interest to look away from me.
She blinded herself from us for the first time.
Yeah, as if that would do any good, right?
I wouldn't allow it, so I curled my fingers around the bottom of her face, forcing it upwards; forcing it to face her nightmare directly. There were tears beaded at the corners of her eyes and trailing down her dirt-scrubbed cheeks. The pain she had hidden from us prior was written all over that pretty face of hers: in the upward curves of her eyebrows, in the parted, downward twists of her lips, in the choked noises emanating from them.
I felt something stirring in my chest.
I ignored it.
Instead I, like the compassionate person I was, allowed the impulsive smirk spread cross my lips.
"Oh, what a pretty face you have," I cooed, shoving one of my hands from my pockets as the others continued to scream insults at the girl and shove her around. "I almost feel sorry that it had to be such a little girl who ventured into our territory, aren't you?" That was a lie, obviously. I snatched my own weapon of choice (a switchblade) from the torn folds of my back pocket.
As I prepared to make ribbons of the little girl's face, a loud shout seemed to shoot itself from across the dying walls of the alley.
"Get your hands off her, you sick bastards!"
"Ah, the Winchesters," A demon hissed, glaring at them with amusement-ridden eyes.
I quickly spun around on my heels in time to catch my first glimpse of the Winchesters today. Dean stood at the mouth of the alley, eyes screaming revenge. His leather jacket swung lightly against his stocky form and the feathery, light colored hair that swept against his pale forehead appeared black in the shadows of the alley. Behind him his kid brother stood (for reasons unknown to me; why would he bring the 13 year old here?) with his arms held slightly from his sides. The raging, unrestricted fury in his eyes inspired quite a bit of shock from my end.
I found it delightful, actually.
I took a teasing step forward.
"Two against five!?" I said, my own shout slicing through the air towards some of the only few people that many of us truly feared.
"My, look what we have here," Crowley said. "The squirrel and overgrown, baby moose. Are you two that desperately suicidal?"
"Let her go!" Sam said in his still developing, boyish voice. "Or you sonsuvbitches will get it!"
How cute. Sam was mimicking his older brother. I just found it so endearing that I couldn't help but laugh again. I wasn't the only one. A demon followed suite, as well as a couple of the others idiots.
"But she followed us here," Crowley said, as if he was insulted by Sam's comment.
"Looks like she wanted to play with the big—"
I wasn't even able to finish my sentence.
Noise exploded from the small space confined by the walls of the abandoned buildings.
Dean had thrown himself against Crowley, sending him practically flying into the wall. Instantly, two Demons shoved Dean back as he tried crushing the gang leader's head against the brick.
Insults were bellowed into the sky as the rest of my team assaulted the seventeen year old, trying to their best abilities to pull him away from their dictator of a leader.
Sam seemed to think it would be an excellent idea to enter the fray. He grabbed his own blade from his coat pocket whirled around to my general direction. He lashed out with his weapon and I leaped away from his vicious slicing easily. He really had no idea how to use that knife.
Grinning broadly, I laughed again and slammed him against the wall the moment his attention was averted by his misfire. My heart began pretty much skipping in excitement while I grabbed his wrist, crushing it with in fingers.
It was all instinct; I had no time to think. At any moment I could be attacked myself. Who knew what sort of back up the Winchesters had in store? Or if they even had any back-up available, which would be the more favorable happening.
Sam grunted as his hand instinctively released the knife. It plunged to the floor and landed right next to my foot.
Feeling that I just about had it made and it would be a victory for us this time, I kicked the knife from our general vicinity, shoved a hurting Sammy to the floor and gave myself a moment to admire my handiwork.
To my surprise, I felt a sudden, huge weight crash against my lower back. I uttered a short exclamation and felt the floor come too close for comfort before I slammed down on it.
A slicing pain shot across the place where my skin made contact with the concrete. For a second I couldn't see anything and had no concept of what the hell was happening around me until I came to the conclusion that the little girl had to have fallen on me.
I was obviously not going to let a little Smurf beat me, so I forced myself to turn around on the floor so I'd claim the upper hand. I felt my face grow hot and uncomfortable and was very grateful for the darkness. How did I let her get to me!?
Of course, I'd have no problem in throwing her off, and so that's exactly what I did. I twisted myself around completely and jumped from my spot on that disgusting floor and Jo quickly rolled off of me. After she landed, she wasted no time in trying to get up to at least her hands and knees, but of course she was too messed up to even accomplish this task properly.
In the heat of my embarrassment with myself and with the sound of my heart roaring in my ears, I slammed my leg into her side. She collapsed once again and I felt satisfied with my achievement.
Now it was time to check the status of my colleagues. There was no need to worry, not that I actually gave a crap about them, because Alister (one of our more bloodthirsty companions) and another Demon had Dean in a tight hold against the wall. Crowley was already taking care of the little kid that I had left in an awkward position on the floor. His hand was pressed against Sam's throat with the rest of his body shoving him against the wall.
The Winchesters didn't seem to have any back up and I really couldn't believe our luck.
I was the only one empty handed at this point, so I grabbed Jo's hand for an added effect and shoved the girl to her knees.
"Looks like you've bitten off a little more than you could chew this time!" I exclaimed.
My personal sense of pride welled up in me. We actually had the Winchester boys at our mercy this time! Now that was something to celebrate about.
"I'm going to kill all of you bastards, you mark my words!" Dean hissed, fighting to get loose and failing.
And that was when we heard the characteristic nerve-wracking bang of a firing gun.
That got my attention.
I felt my smirk melt off my face as I whipped around. Who fired the gun? If it was the police…
A moment of silence submerged the area. Ally or enemy? Who managed to get their hands on a gun? It was nearly impossible to salvage one around here unless you died trying.
And that was worrying.
And then my eyes caught the bottom of a fluttering overcoat.
End of Chapter 1
