This is what I had been waiting for. He would never see me coming.
The wind nipped softly at my long brown hair, blowing it lightly onto my cheeks.
My muscles tightened and my breath burned at my chest, begging me to let the air out. Frozen. Does he smell me? The vamp didn't turn around, so I allowed myself to let out the stale oxygen from my lungs.
My machete was heavy in my clenched hands, my body tense with anticipation. I was ready.
So not to bring attention to myself through sudden movements, I stood up slowly, my thighs burned with the movement after being crouched down for so long.
He had a whimpering girl cornered, whispering to her. The way they recruited was disgusting.
I crept slowly, each foot tip toed behind the other until I was only 6 feet away.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew past me from behind, and sent my hair flying in the breeze. My body froze, and he turned around. He snarled and opened his mouth, baring his set of extremely sharp, and extremely plentiful fangs.
The girl slid down to the ground, blood streaming from where her neck used to be.
He lunged at me, and adrenaline surged through my muscles just in time for me to jump out of the way. Even most monsters had good hand-to-hand combat skills, they must have been taught that as young children, like us.
The machete was light in my hands, and I slashed at the vamp's neck, but he ducked out of the way. The vibration of his boot against the metal sent shocks through my fingers to my shoulder, and the weapon slipped from my fingers and crashed to the ground.
The vampire was smiling wildly now, his fangs tucked away. Immediately, I went into fighting stance and he did the same.
My muscles stung with every movement, every punch thrown, and it became increasingly harder to keep up with the vampire standing in front of me, who very clearly had energy to spare.
With one last gusto of energy, my foot connected with his jaw, and he fell backwards, taken off guard. I scrambled toward the machete, and clutched it in my hands. I looked toward the vamp, who was still dazed.
I stood up, and while looking him in his cold, black eyes, I swiftly brought the blade down, slicing through his flesh, muscle, vertebrae, and hair. With a plop his head fell to the pavement, followed by his body.
I sighed, thankful that I no longer had to do extraneous moving, and wiped the blood off on the vamp's jacket until it was almost clean, tucked it back into it's sheath that was hanging off my belt.
I hated leaving a kill like this, but I had been here too long, and the fight was too loud.
Someone must have heard us.
I took a left out of the empty half-completed building and walked quickly to my 2012 Mustang that was parked a few blocks away. A newer car than most hunters were used to, but I enjoyed the luxury of air conditioning and GPS.
Nights in the desert of Phoenix, Arizona were cold. Now that my sweat had been sitting on my skin for a while, each time the wind blew, I grew increasingly colder. Goosebumps were almost permanent on my skin by the time I reached my car.
I threw the machete in the trunk with the rest of my knives, blades, guns, along with whatever else I could possibly need, and slammed it shut. I climbed into the leather-upholstered driver's seat and started my car with a loud growl. My radio started to play music from the last station I had it set to, some kind of Top 40, and I started to drive.
I let the windows take the crisp wind inside my car, blowing my hair in every direction.
It would be about a two day drive back to Bobby Singer's in North Dakota, which is where I spent most of the time between hunts. He was the closest friend I had in this world after my parents died, and I spent most of my time with him, saving the world one monster by one, the motto of the family business that I took over after my parent's accident.
After about 10 hours of driving I decided to pull into the next motel I saw, which was thankfully a Motel 6 about 5 miles down the road.
I pulled into the driveway, which was way too bumpy for my liking, and before I turned off the car, I noticed it was 3:45 am. Immediately, I felt my eyelids droop and my body ached from the day's grueling activities. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and stuffed them into the right pocket of my black leather jacket. With a swift push of the button on the driver's side door, the trunk popped open. I pulled out my small black duffel bag that held all of my belongings. A few shirts, jeans, toothbrush, salt, holy water, and a small handgun, the absolute minimum. The bag was relatively light, so when I heaved it over my shoulder, it bumped lightly against my back. I forced my feet to trudge across the pavement to the dimly lit check in office.
The too-polite clerk checked me in quickly and without having to ask too many questions, and handed me a key to a second-floor room. I thanked her quietly and quickly exited the room. To the right, I found a set of stairs and climbed them quickly. Being a hunter, I didn't get much time to sleep, so every minute of it was a privilege. I finally found room 216, quietly stuck the key in the doorknob, and turned. The metallic click was the indicator that I had unlocked it. I turned the knob and opened the door with a loud screech. I walked into the room, and felt on the wall for some light switches. I flipped one of them on, and illuminated the left side of the room.
It wasn't anything special, but it would do for the few hours I would be here. There was a bed and a bathroom, so I was happy.
I kicked my black combat boots off, and draped my jacket across the small desk that was pushed up against the wall. My duffel zipped open easily and I flipped my small hands through my clothes until they hit cool metal. I pulled out my all black metal Winchester revolver and flipped open the cylinder to check that it was full. Nodding, I saw that it was. I used my hand to put the cylinder back in its place, which was indicated with a metal click. I set the revolver on the nightstand next to the bed, and returned to the duffel bag to pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste. It was only a few steps to the bathroom, and when I arrived at the doorway, I flipped on the lights and walked on the cold tile floor to the sink. Without looking in the mirror, I turned on the faucet and ran my toothbrush underneath the water. I squeezed the toothpaste onto the bristles and finally looked into the mirror as I started to brush my teeth.
There were large black circles underneath my eyes, which made my already dark brown eyes look more tired. My brown hair was in messy waves, with no real style to it. I had a square face with high cheekbones, people were always telling me that someday I would be a model or someone else famous. I scoffed at the memory. They were all about as right as a monkey in a clown suit.
I spit out the minty toothpaste and rinsed my mouth out before turning off the light in the bathroom and putting the toothbrush and toothpaste back into my duffel bag.
Finally, I crawled underneath the covers before closing my leaden eyelids, and fell asleep.
I dreamt about 2 guys, friends, who didn't exactly have faces. We were walking down a dark city street, laughing. We met 2 other women at a building in the middle of nowhere. We walked inside and started to have drinks. It was a lively bar, and I felt a sense of home.
"So, this witch coven is going to be a bitch, huh?" A blonde girl about my age sat next to me with a beer.
"Yeah, probably." I took a drink of my beer, but it didn't taste like anything.
"If you need help, don't hesitate to call." She smiled, and I was happy. I looked over at the 2 guys I started the dream with, and one of them walked over and kissed me.
I knew these people.
They were my family.