Title: BLAZE OF GLORY

Author: Silverbella

First part of the Raising Hell trilogy

Rating and warnings: strong T for all the spilled blood and mature language

Genre: adventure, humour and mystery

Spoilers: pretty much everything, both seasons and probably something from the third season

Full summary: They are hunters hell bound on hunting evil creatures and beings that don't belong in human world. What happens when they meet a hunter that is way out of their league? An immortal warrior that knows more about supernatural world than them. A warrior that holds the answers to the burning questions. She is a creature they hunt, a vampire, but nothing is what it seems and she shows them that the world isn't just black and white.

Will the Winchester brothers finally found out what their true purpose is and will they let her help them? They are running out of time and the finally need to decide who do they trust.

Timeline: after the Folsom Prison blues and before the What is and what should never be episode. Slightly AU, but keeps up with the show.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester brother or Supernatural or Warner Bros. for that matter. Would I be doing this if I owned them??

Prologue

All of this past

Here I go again slipping further away
Letting go again of what keeps me in place
I like it here but it scares me to death
There is nothing here, the light is beautiful
But I'm darker than light and you are wonderful
But this moment is mine, all of this dust
All of this past, all of this over and gone
And never coming back, all of this forgotten
Not by me, I find comfort here
Cos I know what is lost
Hope is always fear for the pain it may cost
And I have searched for the reason to go on
I've tried and I've tried, but it's taking me so long
I might be better off, closing my eyes
And God will come looking for me
Not by me, I can see myself
I look peaceful and pale but underneath
I can barely inhale, I can hear myself singing that song
Over and over until it belongs to me

Dark streets soaked in rain of the renaissance city were empty. Florence, Italy. Anno Domini 1567.

Not a single soul wanted to be out here in this time of night at this cursed time. Black robed men were scattered through the city in search of people who will break the law.
They were in the service of the Great Inquisitor and they all assumed they were doing God's bidding. God's Law.

But everyone knew that this bloody law wasn't God's. it was bestowed by men. Mortals and sinners. And on what purpose? To imprison and dispose of all those that are against their stupid law. Their political enemies.

And war. Bloody, bloody war. Always, humans and their useless wars. Destroying innocent, cursing the land and those who want peace in their afterlife. Italy calls it Reformation and Spain calls it Inquisition.

On June 23, 1566, there was "public abjuration" of twenty-three who were under charge, who, for the most part, had been sentenced to perpetual confinement, or to the rigor of the galleys. That was when it had all went down the hill.

At Venice, the outcome of the movement was connected with the general political situation, and the senate, from the time of the downfall of the Protestant party in Germany, waived whatever considerations it had previously conceded to their wishes, and showed itself much more amenable to the Curia than was formerly the case.

Meantime a new religious movement had sprung up in Venice. In 1550, Julius III. affirmed that 1,000 Venetians might be counted as belonging to the Anabaptist sect. A new group thus comes to the light, inasmuch as the earlier advocates of the Reformation belonged not to the radical, but to the conservative Reformation, as espoused by Luther.

Both currents are in collateral progress from the middle of the century, and both command eminent names; but the attitude of mutual antagonism on the part of their champions contributed even more than the brute force of their common foe to nullify the movement itself.

Their theological foundations were fixed in a was public abjuration " who were under charge, who, for "council," organized, by sixty of their representatives, at Venice in 1550.

Though not, indeed, without the separation of a more moderate from the radical faction, so that henceforth there are three distinct groups, instead of two, as previously, of Protestantism in Italy.

Who cares for power and pity supremacy in wars when their souls are condemned to eternity in Hell? Stupid mortals.

Black siluette watched the dark soldiers roaming around the streets of Florence. The siluette stood in the pitch darkness, completely invisible. Wind and rain blew away her pelerine, but even the strong wind couldn't blow away the dark robe hanging over its face.

Hiding and watching from the darkness, as its kin has been condemned to for thousands of years by now. It was watching from the darkness, disgusted by the sight of the dark men taking other men.

It was beyond its understanding. How could there be a race that is capable of killing other members of its own race? The same blood and origin, but still, they were constantly at each other throats. Would they be any different if they knew what really lies in the darkness? Behind that soft cover they call their world.

Would they still cheat, lie and kill each other for petty reason like lust and gluttony if they knew that they will end up in the place of eternal damnation? It will never get an answer to that question.

Black siluette noticed small boy running trough the street. It stood still and watched the little blonde boy running straight into the arms of the dark soldiers. Unfortunately, the strength of the collision sent him flying to the floor, dropping something.

"Where are you at, boy?" one of the soldiers asked, tall and black haired.

"Home, sir." Boy stood up and stuttered.

The siluette could sense the boy's fear even from across the street. It silently begged that they don't do anything stupid which will make it show its presence.

"And what do we have here?" the other soldier asked and raised the little bag from the ground. "Magic herbs? This is heresy. And punishment for that is death."

Boy screamed in horror, but there was no one who could hear him. At least, that was what those soldiers thought. The siluette knew that soldiers were thirsty for a good kill tonight. The large one pulled his sword out and pointed it at boy's neck.

"Do speak now… So I can slash your little throat!" he spoke coldly.

Black siluette decided to make itself present. It didn't want to do this tonight. That wasn't what it was here for. But the boy was in danger and it refuses to let them kill a child.

"Let the boy go."

A sudden cold growl emanated somewhere from the darkness making soldiers froze in their steps.

Soldiers looked for the source of the voice. It sounded so demonic and unearthly. Then they saw a black figure approaching them. Its pelerine was gracefully flopping around its legs. Black boots forcibly marching on the cold stone, but impossibly silent. Its approach was predatory and slow.

Like a black mirage slowly approaching them. Soldiers had to blink couple of times to decipher was it even real. After few strides, they realized it was a woman. But not from her size or feminine curves, but from her face which was now illuminated by street's torches.

Perfect and unblemished alabaster skin, strong face lines, full yet pale lips, small nose. Heart shaped almost sculptured face framed with locks of glossy black hair now soaked in rain. She couldn't be older than sixteen years.

Then they looked into her eyes and the very blood in their veins froze. Black eyes that held no emotion, just cold fury. Their shape was almost as one of a wolf, just pitch black instead of golden yellow. They were pure contrast to her white skin.

But the glare was what petrified them the most. Almost feral, predatory. Ready to kill them all without even missing a beat. Her eyes held a vision of Hell and warning that she can send their wicked souls straight to Hell. And there was no fear in them.

"What is a pretty girl like you doing out at a night like this?" the large soldier finally found his voice, but didn't move the sword from boy's neck.

"Nothing much. Looking out for idiots like you." The girl spoke without fear and with deeper voice.

"Don't speak to her, Luigi. She is a demon. The Hell itself spit her out." Shorter one tried to warn his larger comrade.

But failed as the soldier never removed the sword from boy's neck. Then boy screeched and girl moved again. Just two soldiers stayed with the boy- the one holding the sword and the one holding the bag that boy dropped. Other two stepped back, pulling out wooden crosses pointing them at her.

The girl sneered at them and at that stupid attempt of scaring her away. That is not something that will repel her.

"Let him go." the girl warned again, trying to escape the inevitable.

"No. I don't feel like it. Hold him." The larger one ordered his comrade who took the boy. "But we could make a deal. You for the boy. You look too good to waste."

She could see blind lust in his eyes. Of course, he is a man. And she will show him that that just isn't enough sometimes.

"Aye. You can take her. Just don't damage her so I could get a turn. Lets see if she is completely perfect under that coat." The other one laughed and pointed a knife at boy's neck.

The boy's eyes were already covered in tears and he was starting to sob loudly.

"I would be happy to oblige that you all get a turn with me." The girl sneered coldly, danger flashing in her ebony eyes, which apparently went unnoticed by these two idiots.

"Then we have a deal." The large one smiled and went to grab her.

The girl suddenly moved and grabbed him so he could get closer. He obviously expected her full cooperation, because he had a wide grin plastered on his face. No wonder he was so surprised when he got his arm twisted with her unseen strength.

She forced him to kneel in front of her and the last thing before he felt sharp pain in his neck, were her cold fingers braking his neck in one swift motion. Lethal beauty, now he understood.

Those two soldiers that stepped back, were now on the run. Unfortunately, the soldier that held the boy didn't do the wise thing. So she decided to take him out too.

"You bloody wrench." He went to cut the boy's neck, but the girl was already standing next to him, cold breeze going pass him, indicating that she moved.

He lowered his head to look at her and he saw eerie azure blue eyes staring right back at him. He swore he was looking right in the eyes of a demon, but he realized she was more than just a demonic creature. She smiled cockily at him showing her prolonged fangs.

The next thing he felt was pain in his chest. He looked at his chest and saw his own knife, standing out of his own chest, leaving a tantalizing trace of scarlet liquid. He fell to the ground, cursing her with his last breath.

Somebody started clapping. The girl looked around and noticed a dark figure in the shadow of the building across the street. The figure looked like a priest.

"Now, go home." She ordered to the little boy and he picked up that bag and started running without question.

"I am fairly impressed." The dark figure spoke and came to her.

The girl just stood there watching the old man approaching her.

"I am cardinal Sanzio. And I have a proposition for you." He spoke with Venetian accent.

The girl was still silent, forcing that annoying look at her face.

"I know you don't trust me, but I also know what you are. And I am here to make you a deal, Death Dealer."

The girl mentally cursed and regretted ever coming to this bloody city. Now, they knew she is here and the hunt will begin.

"Well then, human. Since you know so much, then tell me why would I make a deal with you?"

"Because I know you hunt them. You can see them. Every single damned soul walking on our plain. Every single unearthly creature that is not suppose to be here. And you can stop them from killing humans."

"Really? What if I don't feel like sharing? I don't care." The girl said and walked away.

Cardinal waited for few moments to see will she stop, and when she didn't he spoke again.

"Then, why did you save the boy if you don't care? Why do you travel across the world and stop those damned demons from stepping out of their place? I think you are right, you don't care, but you do have pride and most importantly… you can't ignore them. No one with the sight can ignore them."

She stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around to face him. The girl knew he was right. She just couldn't ignore them. No matter how much she tries to numb those voices.

"The situation is bad, as you can obviously see it. The Pope has gone crazy and is killing everybody that is ready to stand in his way. So, few cardinals and I assembled a secret society of hunters that will hunt those who defy God's law, real God's law, the Balance. We call the society Tenebrae."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Work for us. Something like an exchange of information and skills. You teach my hunters how to deal with them and I will give you access to the oldest apocrypha's and books that hold the information about the Dark Underworld. Weapons and men who will fight by your side."

"Under my command." She corrected him and he eyed her suspiciously.

"What?"

"My word will be law. They will have to obey and trust my decisions. You wanted my help, that is the price."

He couldn't help, but feel fear from the simple knowledge of letting a creature like her held such power in his world. But he also knew that he had no other choice.

"Why do I have feeling that I am making a deal with the devil?" cardinal asked, half amused with this.

"I think you are giving me a bit too much credit. I am hardly the devil." The girl sneered at him, staring at him with a predator glare.

"No, you're worse. You are a Draconis."