Welcome!Hi. I'm Meg. This is my first fanfiction on this account (I hate having just one because I feel too much pressure) and I want to know what you think of this one:

Should I carry on? Change things? Quit? I wanna know.

This is only the prologue so it's not very long, the other chapters are going to be full episodes, maybe the occasional scene that I've created completely but disclosure: anything you do recognize from the tv series or the film is owned by the creators of FDTD

Apart from that, this introduction is very much based on content and if you get confused I'm happy to help. For example, if you don't understand any pagan jargon please inbox me and I'll give you the full description in relation to the story and in real life.

If you also get confused about my description of the main character, I'm literally basing her appearance on Elizabeth Gillies (aka Jade West from Victorious) and it will remain the same for the majority of the story considering season 1 takes place in like two days.

SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER: Bad things by Jace Everett

Okay, done! Read on!`


"The now infamous Gecko brothers are still on the run and police say that both are armed and extremely dangerous. After their robbery in Abilene early this morning where they killed four officers and took one woman as a hostage, the police have issued a warning to all those who come into contact with the Geckos: remain calm and contact the police as soon as possible. Do not confront-"

I switch off the radio, not needing to know anything else from the update. They had no leads, no idea about where Seth and Richard Gecko could've escaped to, apart from knowing that the brothers are probably heading south to Mexico, the authorities are in the dark.

Funnily enough, this makes my job that much easier.

"God-damn Texas heat," I hiss, wiping my sweaty brow with the back of my hand. My palms are sticky from their grip on the steering wheel and I can feel the back of my bare thighs starting to boil under the heat of the seats. All the windows are rolled down (by hand may I had) and I had stripped down to my ripped, Jean shorts and the black vest that I've worn in this scorching weather for the last day- and I can feel it starting to stick. Trust Annie Green to get the one hire car in all of Austin, Texas to have a broken AC. "God-damn Texas heat and its god-damn hire cars."

I check the worn out map on the passenger's seat, the string of gold still giving me the path to where I need to be: A stop off in the middle of nowhere, probably a B&B or gas station. That's where the brothers are or are going to be in the next few hours. And me too, after a few more stretches of open, empty highways.

I watch the chain glisten as we drive past tumble weeds and cacti feeling reassured that my prayer and magic is still strong: if it wasn't, the chain would've moved from the momentum of the car by now but instead it remains firmly in place.

The tracking spell is easy enough, especially when you have hours of sunlight to keep the chain's energy flowing. The difficult part was getting a piece of DNA. Sounds weird, I know. But after going through the things I've been through and seeing the things I've seen, normal becomes abnormal and the supernatural becomes natural.

Finding a piece of the eldest brother was impossible with the freak living in his own little Tarzan realm but thankfully Seth was a bit easier to get to. A couple of hundred bucks for his pillow from his prison cell, a few hours spent searching it with a fine-tooth comb and you've got a strand of hair that's perfect for my spell.

You need all kinds of crazy shit when you're witch: and no I don't mean the hocus-bogus, Harry Potter, riding on broomsticks and turning men into toads kind of witch; I mean the praying in a circle of salt, using crystals and candles and nature to sway the hands of the divine kind of witch. And when you decide to use the strength that your gods and goddesses give you to banish the things that the other gods and goddesses decided to unleash, you tend to end up on the wrong side for many people. You'd be surprised as to how many.

However, the same goes for them. And two years ago they crossed a now very pissed off witch. Which is why I need the Gecko brothers. Finding them is part one of my carefully laid out plan. Part two involves getting the eldest one alone and unsuspecting and then finding out everything he knows about the Nine Lords- so that I can kill those self-righteous bastards for everything they've done. I don't care if that means torturing him until there is nothing good in my soul- I don't need a soul for where I'm going.

I know that I'm nearing my destination when the air's emotion shifts. Another weird thing, but this is something everyone can sense. For example, when you turn a corner onto a dimly lit street and you suddenly want to shrink further into the darkness or sprint the next corner, that's because darkness plus solitude equals trouble: malicious thoughts or souls or emotions (just like positive ones) can be sensed by others without needing to see them. The less souls around to listen, the more it can be heard. In my case, I've got a lonely highway, no car for miles, three, four maybe five people with at least one thinking about something violent and the others not feeling so innocent either. Because of this- trusting my intuition –I know what I need.

Reaching behind me and into the back seat, with my eyes still on the open road, my hand dives into my duffel bag and fishes out my lucky pistol (a formality of my work considering that some of the time the dicks I come up against aren't werewolves, warlocks or wendigo) and tuck it into my combat boot. My hand then wraps around my athame and my wand (a necessity of my work considering that most of time the dicks that I come up against aren't your average perverts, gangbangers or muggers). The silver knife I tuck into the waistband of my jeans, covering it with my vest, whilst my crystal covered wand is strapped into the holster strapped around the top of my thigh, my shorts just long enough to cover it. Despite uncomfortable against my skin, knowing that they were there does a world of good for my confidence.

Soon enough Benny's Liquor Store emerges from the seemingly distant horizon, its Southern cowboy charm blaringly cliché. In this desert, the store blends in nicely with its washed out charm but the car that I pass on the way in seems to fast and expensive to be considered as one on of Benny's- whether or not the car is the Gecko's or someone else's is the new question. I slide my car into park before hiding the map under the seat and checking myself in the mirror.

My bright blue eyes are rimmed with black from smudged eyeliner- giving me two-day old raccoon eyes –their messiness matching my brown hair which is barely contained in its high ponytail. I look like trash, hell I feel like trash after all the nightly stake outs and the fast food that I've been consuming. But when duty calls…

Like now.

Throwing on my flannel shirt and taking a deep breath, probably the last breath I'll take as myself for a while, I call on those few drama lessons I took as a kid to guide me into being the unsuspecting girl, just looking for a snack but finding trouble. Full of what I hope is courage, I grab my duffel bag before leaving my vehicle and locking it behind me before creeping to the parked car, black, vintage, loved, unlocked. As a precaution, I hide the duffel bag under the back seat so that it's out of sight. If it wasn't their car, I'd move it before leaving and if it was, I'd need it.

Straightening my choker, so that my protection amulet is in line, I remind myself of why I'm here and what I need to do.

And I leave behind dust.


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