The first time the Winchesters met the girl, she came like a knight cloaked in the shadows and saved their sorry asses.
Charlie had called the Winchesters at the bunker, and informed them of a case. Charlie herself had been in an undisclosed location, slowly building up a mass database of hunters, lore, and other things that go bump in the night. The database was also programed to scan all online news, social media, and other forms of information for certain words and locations, and maps out cases for hunters. Of course she was still working on it, but that didn't mean she wasn't already becoming the "Bobby" of the hunting trade.
Next, she contacted them to inform them there was a case that seemed to be made up of a small clan of vampires a state north of them.
The Winchesters quickly made their way up to the site and began working on the case immediately—but what was thought to be a simple, easy case took a turn for the worse.
When they had gathered enough information to find a location and determined the number of vampires they got ready to take them on.
But when the brothers reached the warehouse and stepped inside the dimly-lit structure, they were bombarded immediately. Dean was knocked out and Sam followed soon after.
Slowly, the Winchesters were being drained to death. They had realized too late that they were completely outnumbered, and were knocked unconscious, then tied up to the low rafters of the warehouse. An IV line ran from their forearms to an empty blood bag—well, a half-empty blood bag.
Sam Winchester woke up in a cold sweat. He looked over with what little strength he had to find that his brother was paler than he had ever seen him.
"Oh, the Winchesters."
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the warehouse. He jerked his head to the side.
"Not as notoriously skilled as my predecessors have claimed." Out of the shadows came a well-dressed Hispanic man who looked to be in his forties. From the way he spoke, Sam discerned that he was the alpha of the clan.
"It is quite interesting," the blood-sucker continued. Sam's attention was waning. Dark spots clouded his vision and he was hardly able to concentrate on the vampire's foolish speech. He certainly didn't notice the silhouette hidden in the corner of the warehouse. The only light seeping in was the full moon.
"It will be exciting to feast upon your blood, boys," the alpha said as he stepped closed and bared his fangs. Other vampires began to step forward and also bared their fangs, ready to suck away at the blood left in their bodies.
Sam knew it was over. After all they had been through, he couldn't believe it had come to this—a clan of vamps.
But little did he know that the shadow figure in the corner was not of blood-sucking ways.
In seconds, a slim figure appeared in the back of the room, highlighted by the dim light of the window. She was clad in a hooded leather jacket that cast a shadow over her eyes and the bridge of her nose and thick, dark jeans making her seem like a professional assassin. But she was way past seeming like an assassin. Sam watched in his dazed state as she cut the heads off of each vampire from behind with a long Colima machete. Not until three heads were rolling on the ground did the other vamps notice her appearance. Sam was worried for her, being as she was extremely outnumbered and the alpha had noticed her approach.
The hooded huntress was ready for each and every one of them. She started by swinging her machete through each head as it came at her, but due to the increasing numbers coming at her, she pulled a long bowie knife out of her high boots and started whacking away.
She had grace and skill. She wouldn't stop or pause to breathe; finish slicing through one and turn to stab and slice at another. It came down to two vamps left and the alpha. The vamps tried to take her at opposite sides but she simply extended both her arms at the same time and sliced off both heads in unison.
"Well… this is unfortunate. Another hunter to join the party. I'll just have to kill you live. Disgusting business, but it must be done," the creature said as the assassin sheathed her stained bowie knife in her boot and clutched her machete. Sam couldn't see any any detail in her face from the ten feet she stood away from him. The hood covered up most of her face and the only light reached her thin dark lips.
"Yes, well, great idea," she started, taking a step towards the alpha, "but that didn't seem to work out for your comrades here." The alpha lunged at her, but she was quick to dive out of the way and turn with such agility, that Sam couldn't believe what was happening. She plunged a large syringe filled with, what he could assume was dead man's blood, into the alpha's neck. He immediately went slack to the ground.
Slowly, she stood up and took a deep breath. She turned to face the boy hanging by their wrists. For a moment, Sam was scared she was going to take off their heads.
His fears were confirmed when she lifted her bloody machete and swung at them.
Sam fell to his knees on the hard ground. He quickly pulled out the IV and rubbed at his wrists. Then he shifted over to help Dean, who was still unconscious on the floor.
"It's good to finally get a close up look at you Winchesters," the hooded figure said standing above Sam, "but really you aren't all that you're cracked up to be."
And with that, she turned and left leaving Sam Winchester utterly stunned.