I own all OC's and this story. I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Any affiliation to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. There is mention of gun violence in a few of these chapters. Readers discretion is advised.
A/N: Id like to start out by saying this story is not the happiest. Heartbreak, tragedy, and betrayal play very large roles in these characters lives. This story is being heavily edited. So if things have changed a little since the last time you read it, that is why. The face claim for Brayden is Margaret Qualley.
It was like I was there again, like it was that awful night. I could hear the screaming of my family, I could smell the blood and the smoke. My legs ached as I ran through the woods. My sneakers crushing the leaves on the ground. I could feel the fear and the pain course through my veins just like it had that night. The night the hunters came.
I awoke with a jolt, sending pieces of my dark hair into my face. This has happened so many times before, I can't go a week without having the same nightmare. It never changes no matter how much I try, no matter how hard I will the scene to change before my eyes. It never does. It probably never will. I look around my bedroom with a worried look on my face. Why is the room so bright this early in the morning? I take a glance toward my alarm clock, scared for what I might see. 9:37AM, it read. My shift starts at 9.
"Oh no, no, no, no!" I yell, flinging the blankets off and springing out of my bed.
I run across the room to my adjoining bathroom and turn on the shower. There is no time to wash my hair so dry shampoo will have to work for today. I pull my long hair up into a bun and get in the shower as fast as I possibly could.
I rushed to put on an olive green t-shirt, jean shorts and sandals. I took my hair out of the bun it had been in and brushed it out into its natural loose waves. I managed to line my grey eyes and put on a little bit of mascara in the chaos. I adjusted the gold locket around my neck that I always wear as I frantically search for my purse. I looked on the couch, by the front door, in my bedroom, where the hell is my bag? I finally found it sitting on the island in the kitchen, right where I had left it. Today of all days to lose something.
I left my apartment a few minutes later and started to speed walk down the street. I've always enjoyed walking to work. The cool air is calming and in Seattle there is a coffee shop on nearly every street corner, which puts some of the scent in the air. Today was not that relaxing. I sped walked all the way to work, not having time to stop and smell the sweet, sweet, smell of coffee.
"Archer! You're late!" my boss Max yells with his faint Japanese accent. He always calls me by my last name, some days I think it's because he can't remember that my name is Brayden. Max was in his mid-50s and he already has a balding head. Didn't really take away from any of his looks since he had none. He was short and kind of ugly.
One might ask me why, exactly, I work here. It's simply because I don't want to deal with a ton of customers. What's the point of hiding if you see a lot of people per day? I don't need the money either I just need something to do.
"Sorry Max, I woke up late!" I plead.
"Whatever. I need you to shelve the new shipment. The boxes are in the back. Each box is labeled which genre it is so that will tell you where to shelve books." He explains.
"Got it." I reply.
I walked to the back of the store and past the curtain separating the store from the area dedicated to storing boxes, cleaning supplies, and a refrigerator. There were about 10 boxes, each of them looking to be about 30lbs. I sigh as I pick up the closest box. This was going to take a while.
The first box was a couple dozen Teen Fiction books. I lugged the box to the section in the store dedicated to the genre. One by one I shelved the books. Looking at all the fake friends displayed on the covers reminded me about my current situation. Sure I'd like to have friends, but I could never risk getting attached to anyone. I can't risk letting people get to know me. That's too close to them figuring out what I am and having them tell anyone that would listen. That means one of two things; I get exposed in the media and get tested on in a science lab, or I get tracked down by hunters and killed. I am not taking any chances believe me.
My deep thoughts were interrupted by someone walking towards me. It was a girl about 17 or 18 with pink and blonde hair, glasses, and some band t-shirt on.
"Excuse me miss. Can you help me find a book series?" the girl asked me.
"Sure, what's it called?" I respond in my cheery customer service voice.
"It's called Supernatural by Carver Edlund." She answers. I have never even heard of this book series.
"I don't recognize the title, what genre is it? That's how we have the shelves organized." I said.
"It's kind of a Sci-Fi, type series." She says, looking slightly embarrassed.
"Follow me." I reply.
Those shelves were towards the back. She follows me to the shelves with the small sign above them saying 'Sci-Fi'. I look around each of the shelves, having to bend down to get to the lower levels. I finally found a bunch of books all with Fabio looking men on the cover. I don't normally judge, but in this case I can't help myself. I handed her the books that I could find under that title
"I'll be damned, you're the first place to actually have them. I've tried 4 other book stores." she says, dumbfounded.
"Well I'm glad you finally found them." I replied with the same perky voice I'd trained myself to use at work.
"Thanks again." She yelled back at me as she walked to the front to pay.
"Anytime." I respond. The idea of going back to shelve hundreds of books almost made me groan aloud. But i've got to get it done sometime. I finished off the rest of the box and headed to the back to start on the others.
I finished shelving the books by a little after 1pm. Since my shift wasn't over, I was then told to then start dusting everything. Oh sweet joy.
I went back into the back to get the duster. After shuffling a few things around I finally found it. It hadn't been used in a good month or so, so the store was pretty dusty. I started to dust on the top of each shelf, then work my way down. I was dusting near the front window when I caught a glimpse of something outside. It looked like…no, no, he's dead. My brother is dead.
Lots of people have black hair and are about that height. I was there the night my brother died. The night all of them died. Im just getting worked up over nothing. I sneezed from the dust but when I opened my eyes again he was gone. That nightmare must have effected me more than I had thought.
I finished up dusting for 15 minutes until my shift ends. Max was in his office on the couch, passed out, so I decided to slip out. I am exhausted from carrying all of those boxes and the mind-numbing dusting. I didn't even get to make some coffee this morning. I flip the sign to closed as make my way out.
Adjusting the purse on my shoulder I begin to make my way down the street to my favorite café. Every day after work, I go here to get a good cup of coffee. You won't even see it if you didn't know it was there. It blended in well to the other cafes and Starbucks' that lined many streets in Seattle.
Knight Café, read the large sign above the door. Charles Knight has owned this café for about 10 years with his wife until a few years ago, when she passed away from cancer. Charlie has kept the business going all these years somehow. Before his wife died, they had two children. Parker, their son is 9 years old. They also had a daughter named Anna who is now 7 years old. She looks just like her mother. I think Charlie sees a little bit of his wife every time he sees Anna. I walked through the front door to the café and was immediately greeted with the scent of freshly brewed coffee.
The café is almost never full when I come here. Today is no exception, there couldn't have been more than 10 people in here.
"Brayden! What can I get you?" Charlie calls from behind the counter.
"My usual Charlie!" I call back.
"You got it." He responds.
I go and take my usual seat on a stool at a table in the corner by a window. I turn towards the window to see it start to lightly rain. I watch the drops fall from the sky and collect in small puddles on the street. The image triggers a memory from my time before Seattle, when I was home.
I remember running in our backyard during a rainy summer day. I couldn't have been more than 7. Our dad was grilling, and mom was reading a book on the porch. I didn't know where Luke was, and I probably didn't care. I jumped through all the puddles that formed on the sidewalk, making sure not to miss a single one.
We lived in a small fishing village in Maine, my parents, my brother Luke, and I. It was a small town, where everyone was familiar and sadness seemed miles away. It felt like tragedy could never touch our perfect little town. Until I was 16, it never did. But all good things must come to an end.
"Here you are." Charlie says, snapping me back to reality, as he sets the paper cup down on the table in front of me. Their signature cartoon knight helmet on the side. I smile as a thank you.
"How are the kids?" I ask him.
"Good and bad, I'm afraid. Anna is at home sick, she's got a pretty bad cold. My sister's in town so she's looking after her for me. Parker is doing well, he's got a baseball tournament this weekend in Spokane that he's really excited for." He answers. He wore a look of pride on his face as he talked about his kids. They were his entire world now that his wife was gone.
"Aw well that's too bad about Anna. Tell her to feel better for me. Wish Parker luck for me as well." I reply. We don't live anywhere near each other, but the relationship I have with the Knights is very similar to neighbors. They barely knew my first name and where I worked. Nothing more.
The phone behind the counter started to ring and Charlie left to go answer it. I didn't mean to, but I listened in.
"Hello?" Charles said when he picked up the phone.
"Who is speaking?" the voice on the other end says.
"This is Charles Knight. How can I help you?" Charlie answers. The person on the other end hangs up.
"That was weird." Charlie says, looking at the phone with furrowed eyebrows.
"Probably just a wrong number." I offer.
"Yeah probably, but that's the third one I've gotten this week, all from different numbers." Charlie counters.
"You're right that is weird." I say as I sip my coffee. It's probably just a prank caller or something.
"Well I'd better get going. Thanks for the coffee." I say to Charlie as I get up to leave.
"You're welcome." Charlie replies.
I cross the café and walk through the door. It's still raining outside but I don't mind. It's only a sprinkle. I've always liked walking in the rain. Turning to walk to my apartment building I begin thinking about my family. My hand automatically reaches for the locket around my neck. Seeing that guy that looked like Luke really got to me. Luke and I weren't really that close when they all died. And part of me almost resented him because it was his fault the hunters came, it's his fault our family is dead. I fought back tears as I opened my apartment door. I can't keep doing this to myself, I can't keep holding on to the past. They're dead and there's no changing that. I quickly blinked the tears away and took a deep breath.
I shut the front door behind me and hang my purse on the rack hanging on the wall to the left of the front door. I set my cup of coffee on the island in the kitchen. Walking towards the hall way that leads to my bedroom I decide to get out of these wet clothes. I changed out of my jeans and hoodie and into a pair of black leggings and a long sleeve t-shirt. I shove my hair into a messy ponytail and consider myself at home.
As soon as I walked out of my bedroom, my stomach began to growl. I immediately made a detour to the kitchen instead of laying on the couch like I usually do.
My lunch break at work is only 30 minutes long and in that time I'm barely able to walk down the street a little and grab a Subway sandwich. That's all I've eaten all day. I opened my fridge to find it mostly barren. My cooking skills are sub-par at best. I usually just order in or pick something up on the way home. I found a carton of leftover Thai from last night. Good enough.
I pop it in the microwave and head for the couch. Reaching for the remote, I thought about what might be on tonight. I had just decided on a Criminal Minds rerun when I heard the microwave beep, announcing that my food was ready. I padded over to the kitchen from my place on the couch. While holding a pair of chopsticks in my mouth, I reach into the microwave and very quickly pick it up and set it down on the island behind me next to a book I've had sitting there forever.
"Hot, hot, hot!" I cry as I shake my hand.
I started to fan the take out container until it was a reasonable temperature that I could carry to the couch. I sped walked back to the couch with the container in my hands and the chopsticks back in my mouth. I landed on the couch with a nice *plop* noise. I started to eat the day-old Thai as the title sequence began.
The episode was pretty much like most of the others. Someone in Kansas was killing blonde-haired blue-eyed women because they reminded him of his mom and how they never got along. I am a sucker for these cop shows. Its almost always the same story behind the killings but I love them anyway.
The episode ended and I went back to channel surfing. I decided on the news. The top story was about how there is a group of robbers/murderers who are targeting local businesses. I was only half listening. I was too deep in thought.
I was snapped out of it by the loud bang behind me. After experiencing a miniature heart attack I turned around to see what the cause of the noise was. The book that has been sitting on my kitchen island was in the floor. I frowned with confusion.
It wasn't anywhere near the edge of the counter. Maybe I knocked it closer to the edge when I almost burned my hands?
I put down the almost empty carton and walked over to the kitchen. I crouched down and looked at the book suspiciously before picking it up. The kitchen was colder than normal. It's probably just because it's raining. I shook it off, set the book back on the counter and walked over to the thermostat and bumped up the heat.
I went back to the TV and found another show to watch. This time it was CSI: Miami.
I am so frustrated.
"The guy is sitting right in front of you! He doesn't have an alibi and he's sketchy as hell! He has a motive and an opportunity. Oh come on! It's not that hard people!" I shout at the TV.
I lean back in frustration.
My heart leaped into my throat when I heard a laugh from behind me. I went searching for the source only to find none.
Then I came to the realization that it must have been from outside. I went over to the balcony door and opened it. A rush of cool air greeted me as the doors slid open. The rain had calmed down quite a bit and I stepped onto the balcony. I looked around and saw a group of guys walking down the street. I dismissed the laugh as coming from one of them, and went back inside.
"I'm going crazy." I say while rubbing my temples.
I sighed as I noticed it getting dark outside. Another day, practically wasted. All I do is go to work, grab some coffee, and come back here to do nothing. My life has become a blur of boring non-events.
I threw away the empty Thai container and started to walk down the hallway toward my bedroom. I throw my clothes into the dirty clothes hamper and get in the shower.
Eventually I accomplish the near impossible task that is, washing my hair. My mind wanders while I stand under the scalding hot water. Maybe tomorrow i'll order something different at the cafe? Maybe I could rearrange my furniture again? I could order food from a place I haven't tried. I need to spice things up some.
I get out and wrap a towel around me. I head toward the mirror above the sink to brush my teeth when I see something that makes my heart race. The words written in the fogged up mirror. At first I thought I was seeing things but when I got closer I realized that this was here, this was real. The words, "Don't go to the café tomorrow. Please, you will die if you do" were written in my mirror. I reach out my hand and touch the 'E' in 'die'. It smears beneath my fingers. It was written only moments ago. The letters were just starting to get foggy.
"What the hell?" I whisper with a concerned look on my face.
A wave of curiousness washed over me, mixed with small amounts of fear. A normal person under these circumstances would be terrified, ready to scream bloody murder, even. But I'm not exactly a normal person now am I?
The message didn't seem threatening, even with its terrifying subject. The words were a warning, not a threat.
I got dressed for bed in a t-shirt and comfortable shorts. My apartment had a completely new feel to it now. It didn't feel quite as empty as it's always felt. I tried and tried to go to sleep but I simply couldn't. I felt like I was being watched. I probably was and that wasn't exactly a comforting thought.
I reached for the locket around my neck, tracing the bow and arrow on the front, then flipping it over and feeling the letter B engraved in it. I fiddle with this locket every time i'm stressed or worried. It was all thats left of my home. But, I didn't dare open it.
Every time I open it, the wounds in my heart reopened a little.
I knew what was inside. I knew every single detail about the pictures placed in here. I closed my eyes and imagined the two happy photographs.
The one on the left is of my mom, smiling in her garden one summer. The yellow flowers behind her, the cloudless blue sky in the background, I knew it all by heart. I look just like her. We shared the same heart shaped face and petite nose. My dark brown hair and grey eyes are exact replicas of hers.
The photo on the right was of my dad and Luke. They look just alike, father and son. They shared the same sharp jaw, and high cheekbones. Their black hair and green eyes were practically identical.
The picture was of them before a big fishing trip. They were laughing as they smiled for the camera. My dad's arm was around Luke's shoulder in a proud stance, and in the background there is a boat on a trailer. That summer feels like it was forever ago, like it was almost a dream.
I drifted off thinking about those happy memories. I relived them in my unconscious mind. This was one of those few times where I actually had a good dream. I didn't dream the rest of the night.