Hey there, EatMyFeels here!
First off, here's my disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters, except for original characters like Ashton Grail.
Great, now lets get down to business! Unnatural Attraction follows Ashton's story so it doesn't really fit in with the Supernatural plot as is. It kinda takes place in the undetermined future of the show where Dean is human, Crowley is addicted to human blood, and nothing too crazy is happening around the boys, well, not yet haha.
Anyway, I don't think I'll give much else away at this point, so enjoy!
Prologue
Ashton leaned against the lamppost her hand resting on top of her concealed machete. The breeze rustled the long hair that covered the left side of her face. The other side was exposed to the chilled air because of her short hair. She scuffed her combat boots against the concrete as she waited. Her blue leather jacket repelled the light sprinkle of ran, while her jeans absorbed the cool water. Her brown eyes watched a figure make its way towards her.
"You er?"
Ashton glanced at the man and nodded.
"Follow me."
She followed the twenty-something year old down the dimly lit sidewalk. They stopped at a rusty steel door and the man knocked thrice. After a few moments the door swung open with a loud groan. Ashton felt eyes watching her as the man led her through a dark hallway. The end of the hallway opened up to a large room where another man stood his back towards the entrance.
"Restrain her."
Ashton reacted instantly. She twirled on the balls of her feet while she pulled out her machete. She swung at the vampire beside her and lodged the machete into its neck, but it got stuck halfway. She pushed the vamp to the ground while pushing the machete through its neck. She stomped on the blade in frustration and it finally severed the head from its shoulders. The vamp was still snarling with multiple sharp teeth exposed.
"What is your name, girl?" the leader of the nest asked.
"Aston Grail," she smirked.
"Ah, so you're the protégé of Weston Grail," he chuckled under his breath, "Where is my old friend?"
"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to," Aston growled.
"How rude of me," he grinned, "How was the funeral?"
"You should be more concerned with yours right now," she snarled and readied her weapon.
The older looking man bore his thin, yet dangerous fangs. Without hesitation Ashton grabbed her machete with her left hand and pulled out a gun with her right. She aimed and shot at the vamp thrice. He only responded with a bellowing laugh.
"Your father should be rolling in his grave! Did he teach you nothing?!" he howled, "You can't kill a vampire with bullets!"
"He taught me just fine," Ashton grinned and waved her gun, "This is a tranq full of dead mans blood."
The vamp looked down at his chest and saw two empty tranquilizers stuck into him. He yanked them out and hissed. He ran at Ashton but before he could touch her he fell to the floor. She put away her gun and returned her machete to her dominant hand as she walked towards the weakened vampire.
"This is the end of your nest," she chuckled.
He cackled in laughter, "foolish girl! Look around! My nest has already fled!"
"Fine, at least I can rid the world of you!" she swung her machete down executioner style.
(Three Months Later)
Ashton stood at the airport payphones with a black leather bound journal opened. She clicked her fingernails impatiently as the rings continued. Finally someone answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this John Winchester?" she asked.
"Uh, no, this is his son Sam. Who's this?"
"Doesn't matter. Where's John?" she rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"He's dead."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ashton frowned, "Sam, right?"
"Yeah."
"You in the same business as your dad?"
"Yeah."
"Good, because I need your help," she sighed, "Where can we meet?"
"Wait, what's your name?"
"Ashton Grail."
"Hold on a sec," Sam said.
Ashton could hear the rustling of pages.
"Are you Weston Grail's daughter?"
"Yep, our dads knew each other it seems," she said as she checked the time, "Can we meet up at Hunter, New York? Greene county."
"Yeah, sure."
"Call my dad's number when you get there, okay?"
"Okay."
Ashton hung up with a sigh, "I can't believe I'm asking for help."
She grabbed her luggage left the JFK Airport. She got a cab went to a nearby storage rental facility. The entire time she kept her leather book open as she followed her father's directions. When she found the storage locker she used the combination that she found. She quickly went into the locker and turned on the lights.
The walls were covered with weapons she remembered from her early adolescence and other stuff she didn't recognize. In the middle of the space there was her 2007 Camaro covered by canvas. Ashton felt the grin spread across her face. It was her family's American collection left there for four years.
She pulled the canvas off her car and got behind the wheel. She started up the Camaro and frowned.
"She'll need a tune up," she sighed.
Ashton started to load up her car with the necessities of a hunter; holy water, silver blades, guns, knives, a bible, a rosary, and much more. Once she was done packing the car she left the storage locker and locked it. She drove to Hunter where the old house waited for her. She pulled into the garage and began to work on her Camaro.
(Two Days Later)
Ashton just finished cleaning her guns when her dad's cell began to ring.
"Hello?"
"Ashton?"
"Yeah."
"Dean and I are in Hunter."
"Dean?"
"My brother."
"Oh. I'll text you the address."
"Okay."
She sent them her address and started to get her casework organized for the Winchesters. By the time she got everything pinned to the wall there was a knock at the door. When she opened it there were two men standing in front of her. One was tall with long brown hair, and the other was shorter with short almost blonde hair.
"Come in," she said and moved aside.
They walked in with their shoes on and looked around in suspicion.
"You wanna splash me with holy water?" she asked, "It'd be a good ice breaker."
"Uh," the taller one replied hesitantly.
"Would you mind?" the shorter one intervened.
"Go ahead," she said and stuck out her bare arm.
He took a silver flask out from his back pocket and unscrewed the cap. He poured the holy water on her forearm and as she suspected there was no smoke or burning. With a satisfied nod he put the flask away.
"Which one of you is Sam?"
The taller one gave a half smile, "that's me."
"Well lets get to it," she clapped her hands and walked towards her wall, "My family have been hunting down a vampire nest for almost ten years now. Every time we think we've got them, they get away. I've lost my mother, father, and brother to the bastards."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Sam spoke.
"Thanks," Ashton smiled at him, "Anyway, three months ago I found their nest in London England. When I invaded I successfully killed the head of the nest, but failed to get the rest. He used himself as a diversion so the rest of the nest could flee. It took me three months to track them here, to the U.S."
"You want our help finding and killing this nest?" Sam asked.
"Yes," Ashton sighed, "I'm the only one left hunting them and I can't do it alone."
"Ganking vamps," Dean began, "Sounds fun to me."
"But finding them is going to be difficult," Sam rubbed his chin, "Is there any particular patterns we should be looking for?"
"This nest likes to take over the prostitution, er, business," she began, "They kill the pimps and change the prostitutes. They get the working girls to hunt for food."
"I've never seen a nest that efficient," Sam commented.
"They're more like a gang than a nest, in behaviour I mean," Ashton explained, "But they're a big nest, like huge, so they stock up and cycle through their inventory."
"Stock up? How many people do they hold at a time?" Sam asked.
"Depends on how much the nest grows," Ashton sighed, "Anywhere between twenty and fifty people, and their inventory is only fresh for a month."
"So after a month they drain the old, uh, 'inventory'," Sam cleared his throat.
"Yep."
"So why hasn't your family been able to gank this nest?" Dean asked.
"The mere size of the nest scares most hunters, but it's not only their size," Ashton took three strides towards Dean, "They are extremely clever, they know how to stay hidden, and they know how to deal with hunters." Her nose almost touched Dean's, "They only hunt in big cities where a few missing people a day is normal. And if their nest gets big enough they will spilt into branches to cover more of the city. They are a parasites Dean Winchester, and my family were the only hunters brave enough to go after them."
"It seems like they're going to be tricky to track," Sam broke the tension.
Ashton pulled away from Dean and looked to Sam, "They are very good at covering their tracks. It took me three months to find them here in the States."
"Where have they been before?"
Ashton walked to a large map she had pinned to wall and slapped her hand on it. On every country there was at least one pin, and on America there were six, "each pin represents each separate occasion they have hunted in that country."
"Seems like they get around more than you do," Sam chuckled at Dean.
"One word for you," Dean narrowed his gaze on his little brother, "Ruby."
Sam flinched, "A-anyways, I have no idea how we're going to track them."
"I do," Dean said and pulled out his cell.
Sam gave Dean an unimpressed sideways glance, "Dean, don't tell me you calling him."
"Who else can help us Sammy?" Dean raised a brow.
Sam opened his mouth to say something, but silently shut it again as Dean speed dialled someone on his phone, "Hey, we need some," Dean took an agitated breath, "Help." There was a pause, "Yes, your help," his jaw clenched.
"Hello boys," a British voice suddenly chimed, "What trouble have you gotten yourselves into now?"
