AN: This is currently a one-shot AU in which Bela has escaped hell and become a hunter. In my head I'm picturing the other character as being played by Anna Torv. I may add to this if the plot bunnies attack.
Bela sat in her car, a black ford focus. If she was going to be a hunter, she wasn't going to draw unnecessary attention to herself by driving a rare, distinctive car like the Winchesters. Going to hell and back had a way of making you sort out your priorities, and suddenly screwing over rich people just didn't have the same shine to it.
To keep herself busy while she waited, she loaded and reloaded her gun trying to be faster every time. She was on the alert for any strange sights or sounds, but all she could hear was the clicking sounds of her own firearm. It was strangely satisfying, using all the knowledge she had of the occult and supernatural to do good rather than serve only her own purposes. She had a new-found understanding for the martyrdom complex of that insufferably righteous Dean Winchester. When you've got nothing else, no family, no friends, all you have left is your reputation.
She'd sold everything she had left when she came back, most of her possessions having been repossessed when she had been found dead and having made no will. There was no one she had cared enough about to leave anything to, having sold the colt to that demonic bastard on the promise that he would make her existence in hell easier.
She shook her head, trying to shrug off the memories that came when she thought of hell. Think of something else.She willed herself, focusing all her energy onto suppressing the rising feeling of panic that was welling up inside of her. The soft music of her phone's message tone was a relief from the threatening anxiety.
Opening the glove compartment, she reached in and shuffled through the half dozen phones stored haphazardly inside. With a jolt she realised it was the small black slider. Practically no one had that number and even if they did, it was for emergencies only. Gazing down at the tiny screen, she saw the words Come inside. I'm waiting.The number was withheld, but she didn't need it anyway. She knew exactly who it was.
Glancing up at the house across the road from her, Bela noted that the front porch light was now on. Clearly her target knew she was there. She hesitated for a few moments, unsure of what to do now that the element of surprise was gone. The gun in her hand was heavy, the touch of the metal on her screen slightly cold.
Dean Winchester would charge in, ready to give the black eyed bitch a spray and a gut full of rock salt. Could Bela do that? Was she capable of being Dean? Or would she be walking right into a trap, where she would be sent plummeting straight back to hell to join the ranks of the damned once more?
Stuffing the handgun into the holster she wore around her hips, she reached into the backseat and grabbed the shot gun full of rock salt that she kept there. Climbing out of the car, her boots crunching softly on the leaf-covered road, she once again wondered if she was making the right decision. Her mouth felt like it was made of sandpaper, swallowing doing absolutely nothing to make it feel better.
You can do this. You're a hunter now. This is your job. You are good at your job.She repeated to herself as she walked across the road and up the narrow gravel driveway to the gaudy red doorway. The door swung open by itself before Bela even raised a fist to knock.
Gingerly, she stepped over the threshold. Allowing her shotgun to lead the way, she entered the house properly.
"Kitchen, darling."
A voice echoed from somewhere to her right. There was something odd about the accent, a mixture of Florida and somewhere that was definitely not North America. Odd, but familiar. That was the thing about being a demon hunter who had been to hell. Some of the demons you hunted you happened to know.
Edging her way down the corridor, Bela clutched at her weapon, ready to fire at any second. But when she reached the end of the corridor where the kitchen was located, she found herself dropping the shotgun to her side.
"Long time no see Beleth."
There was a woman sitting at a dining table in the centre of the room, her long blonde hair neatly back off her face.
"My name is Bela."
The reformed thief countered firmly. A smirk crossed the other woman's face.
"Of course, forgive me. Please, sit down."
She gestured towards one of the dark mahogany chairs but Bela did not move.
"Don't think I don't know what you are."
The smirk merely widened.
"Who am I, Bela?"
Bela paused for a moment, feeling the heat bearing down on her from the other's unrelenting gaze.
"The demon Paimonia."
The split second it took for her to blink was all that was needed for the demon's eyes to go from green to black. Paimonia stood up from the table, wrenching the shotgun out of Bela's hand with a flick of her wrist.
"Let's get started."