OK SUPERNATURAL IS NOT MINE. NOW THAT THAT'S OUT OF THE WAY...
Chapter 1: Hard Times
"Oh I got that feelin' once again, that everything's around me gonna end."
'Carnival of Crows' by The Parlor Mob.
Remember the age old question: 'If You Died Today Where Would You Go?' Yeah, the one you find on those tiny water-colored pamphlets that you always seem to get handed at the most inconvenient times that you never really notice. The little booklet with the people happily tolling away together with idiotic grins plastered on their faces while their children cuddle in painted fields with lambs and wolves. The ones that make you say 'oh, that's nice' or make you question your insignificant life for the briefest of moments before they are casually tossed into the garbage. Yes those. There were always two places to go in them right? The answer is simple according to them: either you go to heaven or you go to hell, and it's your choice and yours alone, repent and heaven is yours. Too bad it really isn't because the reality is you're already damned to hell, and only a select few have that option while the rest perceive to have it. But those faded wads of paper were a nice thought.
The littered street was decorated with garbage, upturned cars, and black specs peppering the jagged peaks of asphalt mountains of a once flawless intersection. The 'specs' noisily moved about rummaging from pile to pile as they sang out to one another, asking questions and receiving answers. And it was deafening the screams of the creatures, but it seemed muffled by the heavy air of an uneasy silence all the same. The silence caused by the absence of human life. And this was just as unsettling: the caws of crows, rejoicing in their newfound victory over the population of St. Louis as their owners hopped from body to body. Like a still life water color drenched in shades of gray and black and red; the road flayed before them the shattered pieces of an unremarkable hour, in a mudane week scattered among the remnants of an once mid-morning Tuesday. A scene spread before them captured in time like an insect in amber. Skeptical a bird eyed an odd round navy object it landed on as it balanced itself as it tettered back and forth. Losing interest in its partners it poked its head in pink folds of cloth and emerged with tattered cotton fabric in its beak. Not finding it of any value it dropped it, and dipped its head under again. It happily squawked and pulled away a fleshy patch from equally happy little zebras smiling back at it. No longer would they be beggars and thieves not since it began.
Sam Winchester rambled through broken crates looking for anything he could eat. Ripping through plywood he pulled free a wilted head of cabbage. He gingerly sniffed it and disguisedly tossed it aside. It splattered and left a slimy green trail behind it. He plunged his arm deeper until he found a somewhat, but not really, decent one. And it was still very foul he thought as he took a bite but this was about surviving and that was what he was going to do. Even without him.
After further exploring the derelict grocery store Sam sat down with a heavy sigh against a cold hard wall. He ran a thinning hand through his long unkept hair which was also starting to thin. Sam looked down at his greasy palm and decided a bath was in order as soon as he could find any water he could spare.
Sam folded his wiry frame when a crash deeply echoed and his hand was quickly down to his belt fingering his knife and his breathing was non existent, as he attempted to blend himself in with the shadows. The crash clattered again but much closer this time and Sam dared not move. He could only guess who was there and it would be so much better if he didn't catch its attention. Not until it was much to late of course. The third time he heard it, it was right behind him and he finally revealed himself. He swung around and caught it mid air in the stomach before the lifeless corpse felt to the tile below. Sam let out an air of relief it only was a young wildcat. Which was still dangerous but not what it could have been.
And it was a valuable resource. He found a heavy sack and lifted the animal into it. He tied it securely and slung it over his shoulder. This would give him a couple days of good eating he decided and his stomach growled in agreement. He would head back to his hideout and continue foraging another day.
A quiet fire flicked casting playful shadows across Sam Winchester's blood stricken face. He sat crosslegged and silently worked about, peeling the hide from his dinner. He tore the last bit free and set it aside for later use along with the bucket of guts he filled earlier. He got up and grunted with effort as the threw a wooden beam into his trash barrel fire. He watched the fire renew itself and he put his meat over it on his makeshift grill. After making sure it was secure he pulled his soaked shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner before sitting down at the antique desk he found in the abandoned house he lived in.
Taking a pencil from his pack and holding it between his teeth he opened up a stiff drawer and took out some maps and a journal. Looking over the wide map Sam took his pencil and lightly drew a half moon past the previous mark there. Another part of this god forsaken town scouted. He put the pencil to his pursed lips and thought as the sizzle of meat cooked in the background. He wondered how it all came to this.
The question that weighed heavily on his mind was where was his brother and why couldn't he find him. That night Dean left to say yes to Michael was the last he saw of him. That had been months ago and his search was going nowhere. He had no contacts no allies he was truly and utterly alone, left to his own.
In the beginning he prayed to Castiel, in hope, but he never answered him. Now he wasn't even sure if Cas was even alive. Some time after he stopped praying to Cas and at even one point tried to summon Crowley, but once again nobody came. At that point Sam almost lost it, being trapped in this hell within a hell. But Dean wouldn't stand for that he decided and now here he was mapping the city and learning all he could about what had happened.
From what he could tell he was the only survivor left in this part of the city. In the beginning there where others but they disappeared with time, from hunger or from the self-inflicted violence they gave one another. Or just simply from the virus itself, the Croatian that is. And once a day he went out and searched for other people, supplies, information, anything he could find. Some days were like today, not really helping him further along other than widened his circle on his map and give him a decent meal. And those were getting to be too few and far in between. Most days he found nothing, but that wasn't stopping him because he was finding Dean no matter what. No matter what.
Sam awoke and stared into the darkness quietly panting in the unnatural silence. He was on edge as every hair on his body stood and every tendon tightened in response to some unknown stimuli. He settled himself and slowly breathed in, breathed out. He waited and nothing happened, nothing moved it. The room felt like a void swallowing him. Something wasn't right he could feel it.
As if he was the midnight mist outside Sam rose with shot gun in hand and drifted across the room to the reinforced window. Cautiously he peered outside. Nothing. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Then a movement in the bush caught his eye. Sam stared intently trying to confirm if this was his mind playing tricks. The bush didn't move again.
Sam slid down and rested his back against the wall, obviously it was nothing. Just another lonely and lifeless night. Something moved outside of his window and his gun was instantly firmly nestled in the crook of his neck. He pointed it out a fired a warning shot. A sharp cry whimpered and a pup ran out of the yard and faded with the night. So it really was nothing.
Then the bottom half of the house tremored and Sam was thrown back from the window and landed on the other side of the room. A hefty body landed on his chest crushing him. He lost all the air in his lungs, and another small figure clawed its way through the wood barred window screeching. He punched he one on top of him and was head butted in return. Dizzy he fumbled for the gun that was thrown back not to far from him. It gripped him tighter, growling, and he could feel the hot breath on his face. He jabbed it in the throat until it let him go. Crawling Sam reached for the gun only to be intercepted by the smaller one and thrown against another wall. He felt the plaster crack beneath him. He easily threw the smaller frame off of him. But he was tackled to he ground again by the bigger one. They both landed with a sickening thud. He groaned as he felt a cold hard barrel dig into his stomach. The barrel of his gun he realized. He wiggled himself around and with all his might kicked the creature in its midsection. A heavy boot collided with soft tissue and the creature arched back, just enough for Sam to unload in its guts. Hearing its partner scream in agony the smaller one crawled up to the ceiling towards the window. Aiming to pursue Sam got up and fell down in pain and he saw it glare down at him with pitch black eyes and retreat into the night.
Sam groaned and blinked as morning rays invaded his eyesight. How long had he been out? He coughed and cleared a thick wad from his lungs and stiffly pulled himself up. Across from him was reason for his injuries. A young dark hair male stared lifelessly into space with crystal blue eyes. Blood oozed from his mouth. Sam coughed again. It must be getting colder too, he decided as he worked out the pain in his joints. He reached over and took a swig from his water jug and tightly fastened it back. He was tempted to splash a little on his face but his water was precious. It felt gritty and greasy with layers. In the end he took himself a complete bath and tended to his wounds from the night before. He felt much more refreshed. Well, there went most of his precious water.
Gingerly going upstairs to a bedroom Sam dug through a closet until he found an emerald sweater that could fit him. It was snug and hurt his ribs. Plus it fit like a hand me down. Everything he wore fit like a hand me down: either it was too small or too big. But this would have to do especially on this particularly chilling morning.
After a few more minutes in the closet he filled his backpack and headed back downstairs. It was time for him to go. They knew he was here now and in his state he wouldn't last a second round. He didn't know where exactly but it was better than were he was now. It was time for a new approach. Sam grabbed some of his meat he roasted the night before and stuffed his face with as much of it as he could. Walking around with it could draw attention from other hungry creatures, creatures that wouldn't mind eating him too. He looked at the unfinished hide on the wall. He would leave it too although it would have made a nice hood. He put all his other stuff in his bag and adjusted the straps so that it would sit high on his back and headed downstairs to the garage.
When he first came here he knew the family that lived here before him either had money or were up to their eyeballs in debt. The house gave the aura of a mid life crisis, finally free of children. Not that any of it did them any good now apparently. That's why he remembered the nice motorcycle they had. It was black and blue and well taken care of. It was somebody's pride and joy, much like Baby. He mounted it and put a helmet on. It felt awkward beneath him like it knew he wasn't its master, like an angry beast. Normally he wouldn't use it, rathering to travel on foot, but seeing as he wasn't coming back here and he had a long to go, maybe it would be the best. He pulled out into the long driveway and looked back at the lonely structure he called home for the past few months. It seemed depressed, now that the last occupant was abandoning it, it could finally die and fade away in somebody's memory. It was a sad thought admitted Sam, but there was nothing left for him in this area but trouble and it was time to move on.
a/n: So here is the beginning of the epic in my head. Please read and review, I don't want to do this if nobody but me will enjoy it, kinda like saying thank you for a meal. Anyway Chapter 2 is coming up.