I usually show a pass in time with four little stars.. but this damned website won't let me do that so ill have to just say (a pass in time) sorry about that.
Chance tossed her hair to the side to better reach her shoulder. The scar there was tight and itched. She knew she had to be close. Close to the monster that had taken the lives of her family. Close to the monster that had taken a bite out of her shoulder, leaving a purple, twisted scar. She leaned her head to the side, letting a breath escape her lips as she kneaded the spot. Chance hadn't stopped driving in hours.
She had left the small town behind her on a Tuesday after having tracked and set aflame a windego there. Now it was early morning on a Thursday as she pulled in to the motel parking lot. It was an old motel, the white paint of the walls was weathered and chipped, but the sea blue door frames seemed freshly painted. Chance parked her cherry red Chevy Chevelle next to a deep black Impala in the lot, tucked her .45 in her bag, and stepped out of her car. Her soft blonde hair danced lightly in the wind. It felt nice to finally stretch her legs. A door opened behind her, Chance turned to see two men approaching the impala. One was tall with shoulder length chestnut hair, and the other short; he had more of a military air about him. Both were impressively handsome.
"Nice car," Chance said, leaning over hers. "That's a '67, isn't it?" The short one turned, searching her face for a moment before answering with a smile,
"Yes. Yes she is. Gorgeous isn't she?" He patted the roof of his car, "You have a pretty sweet ride yourself." Chance nodded,
"It was my dads," she replied, "He left it to me."
"Well, that's a story we're familiar with. I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam," he pointed to the tall one, who waved shyly.
"Nice to meet both of you. I'm Chance." Dean nodded off to the side with his lips pressed together,
"Nice to meet you," he slid his hand across the roof of her car to shake her hand. His hand was strong and rough. The hand of a hard-working man. Chance shook it firmly.
"Nice grip," Dean turned and opened the car door, "Look, we have some... business to take care of, but we'll be back later and maybe you'd like to have a drink?" Chance laughed, stretching her arms out to the sides,
"Maybe, but I've driven since Tuesday and I need a good nap. I'll knock if I'm awake when you all are here," Chance smiled and gestured towards the motel building, "Which room is yours?" Sam made an exasperated sound,
"We're in 116, but we really have to go. Don't we Dean?" Dean batted at the air in front if Sam,
"We do. Hopefully we'll see you later Chance," he smiled winningly before sliding into his car, revving his engine as he pealed out of the parking lot. Chance laughed to herself as she heaved her bag out of the back seat of her car. The bag contained what was left of her life. Her clothes, a few pictures of her parents and younger brother, and of course, the essentials. It was all that she had since the attack, she'd been on the road since then. Gathering all the information she could about the monsters in the world, about what was really under your bed. At first she had been surprised at all the different creatures that were actually real, but now, after a few years of living this life, she was rarely surprised by anything.
(Imagine four little stars here)
Chance stood quietly in front of her room, number 112, flicking through her phone. She had an exorcism incantation previously recorded, shed made a habit of having it playing on a loop when she entered a new room ever since she'd walked into a hotel room with a charming demon in it. Finding the correct track, Chance unlocked the door letting it slowly swing open, the room was dark and smelled like old carpet and feet, but it was empty and that's all that mattered. She entered the room and dumped her heavy bag on the bed, dust danced in the air. Gross, she thought, would it kill anyone to clean these damn things? After switching on the lights and locking the door Chance began warding the room, she'd learned a trick or two to protect herself. Her favorite was tiny demon traps carved into the heads of bullets, instantly immobilizing a demon, but that wasn't her only protection. A few removable stickers of runes shed had made for the walls, she glued salt to the window sill and across the doorway, and after blessing a jug of water Chance striped her clothes off and stepped into a hot shower. The water poured over her shoulders, steam rising from the floor clouded the air; it felt as though it were her first shower in weeks. All the grime and dirt washing down the drain to be replaced with the sickeningly sweet smell of complimentary motel soaps.
After her shower Chance slipped into a pair of baggy sweats and a tank top, checked to be sure her salty glue had dried, and collapsed into bed. Sleep overcame her in moments.
(Here too.)
The low rumble of a car engine woke Chance from her dreams. She could hear the voices of the two men she'd met earlier as they moved into their room. Chance rolled out of her bed stretching her sore body in the process, she stumbled into the bathroom to assess her appearance in the mirror. Chance touched the tired rings beneath her green eyes. She didn't sleep much. It was hard to. She was alone in a world of evil. She did it all by herself. The research, the hunting, the tracking, and eventually the killing. She'd been using the money she had gotten from selling her parents house and things to fund her mission. But she knew that soon that would run out and then she would have to find a new way to come up with the money she needed for food, gas, and motel rooms. Chance walked back out into the main room and searched through her bag, looking for her make up. Before long Chance stood behind the door of her room taking stock of everything she had, shed put all of her things back in her bag for a quick get away. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt matched with her favorite heavy soled boots. They had a knife slot in the side. She never went anywhere without her knife. It was easier to hide than her gun. Feeling that she was prepared for anything, Chance left her room.
It was a warm, humid night; the parking lot quiet as she walked to room 116. Chance bent down in front of the door, adjusting the knife in her boot before running her fingers through her hair and wiping the corners of her eyes for any eyeliner smudges, then knocked. There was some shuffling and hushed mumbling before the door swung open, Dean smiling where it had once been. He was wearing worn jeans and a plaid button up shirt with heavy black boots.
"Hello," Chance said stepping passed him into the room, "how was the business?" There were clothes and beer bottles strewn about the room that Sam was scuttling around trying to throw away.
"It all went as planned," Dean replied, covering bloodied knuckles under his other hand. Chance nodded,
"That's good. What do you have to drink?" Sam opened the fridge and pulled out a cold beer, offering it to her, "Beer?" Chance took the bottle, twisting off the cap with her forearm and taking a sip. Sam and Dean exchanged glances.
"Thanks," she strolled aimlessly around the room, "So, what brings you boys here?" They looked at each other for a moment before Sam answered,
"We were here for a family reunion, you know, seeing the family does the heart good!" His smile was forced, Chance could tell.
"That explains Deans bloodied knuckles then, doesn't it?" She giggled, smiling at their discomfort about the subject.
"Yeah, we have a crazy uncle.. Bernie." Dean explained, "he took a swing at his wife and all hell broke you loose. Man's got some demons." Sam smirked, then looked away quickly to hide it.
"I understand. Had some pretty intense family members myself once upon a time." Chance sat on the edge of the bed.
"What brings you here?" Sam asked sitting on the other bed, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands between his long legs. Chance looked off into space, as if to find her answer there,
"Hunting trip," she answered bluntly. It wasn't a lie after all. Deans interest was peaked,
"Hunting? What's here to hunt?" He asked, leaning against the wall pointing with his bottle, "There isn't much around here."
"Oh no. Not here. I'm travelling away from the hunt. Not sure where to next. Waiting for something to.. pop up.. I guess," Chance finished her beer, "Sorry to be bad company, I swear I'm usually more fun. I'm just tired from the trip."
"No, no it's fine," Sam assured her, "We're kind of on a trip ourselves..." Sam was interrupted by a rustling and a new voice announced itself from behind Chance,
"Sam, Dean, I have news," the voice paused, "Who is this?" Chance threw her head around to find a new man standing at the head of the bed, he wore a dirty tan trench coat over a black business suit with a navy blue tie. Chance reacted quickly, she snapped her knife out of her boot and was holding the silver blade to the mans neck before he realized what happened. He looked at her with intense blue eyes in surprise, confusion danced across his brow. Sam was behind her then, picking her up and pulling her off.
"Who is this?" she struggled against Sam, "where did you come from?"
"This is Castiel," Dean said, "he's alright by us."
"I am an angel of the lord," Castiel said, offering his hand to Chance, who was no longer in the gasp of Sam, "I mean you no harm." He was a little taller than Dean; his face wide and soft, as though he knew great wonder and deep pain. His eyes bright, and sincere. His black hair matched his eyebrows, which were now drawn together with concern.
"I hope I didn't scare you," he said softly, dropping his hand back to his side and turning to Dean, "I suppose it is not best to speak now."
"Hold on Cas," Dean replied motioning for Castiel to sit. He snatched the knife out of Chance's hand, "What is this?"
"My knife?" Dean inspected the sharp silver object,
"Why'd you bring it in here? And don't lie."
"To protect myself. You didn't think I was going to trust two men I don't know, did you?" Sam took the knife from Dean, who stood in front of Chance leaning down slightly to be eye level with her.
"She has a point, Dean," Sam offered, rolling the knife in his hand, weighing it, "It's a nice knife." Chance stepped around Dean and plucked her knife from Sam's hands, and with a swift movement she slipped it back into her boot. She turned to Castiel, who was sitting shyly on the bed where she had been,
"Sorry I jumped you. It's not often a man materializes out of thin air." Chance offered her hand to Castiel, who took it graciously.
"It is forgiven. I too would have been surprised by an appearing man in a locked room," he said, deadpan. Dean looked confused,
"You aren't freaked out by this?" Chance shrugged,
"It takes a lot to freak me out, Dean." Dean sniffed,
"I've heard that one before."
"I'm sure you have," Chance walked towards the door, "You know boys, I wasn't told there'd be three of you. I think I'll head back to my room." At the same moment her had gripped the door handle a high-pitched scream pierced the night air. Chance flung the door open wide without hesitation and raced to her room, after a moment fumbling with her key, opened her door to retrieve her gun. When she reappeared in the doorway Dean and Sam were already sprinting towards the sound. Chance charged after them. When she caught up, they were standing in an empty section of the parking lot. Not a soul in sight. Chance quickly tucked her gun into the back of her jeans, not wanting to alarm anyone.
"What was that?" She asked no one in particular. Sam shook his head,
"I don't know."
"What do you think, Sammy, did we miss one?" Dean half whispered to his brother. Chance rolled her eyes,
"What screams like a woman and leaves no body?"
"Probably just some dumb kids playing a prank. You should go back inside," Dean leaned in her direction on one foot and motioned back towards the room, "Cas is still in there. Go sit with him while Sam and I have a look around." Something flashed through the shadows behind the boys, who were both looking at her.
"Yeah, Chance, it's not safe here. Cas will watch over you." Sam assured her. Chance scoffed, scanning the dark behind the boys,
"What do you think it is?" She asked mockingly, "A dog? Maybe a thief? Murderer?" A dark form took shape in the shadows behind them. Chance watched as it drew closer, becoming more visible in the dim light of the motel.
"I'm not sure, but we're big boys we can handle it."
"And what am I? I can handle my own." Chance reached her hand around her back and switched the safety off her gun. Dean sighed,
"Look, Chance, you can go back to our room or I'll have Sam throw you over his shoulder and put you there himself." Sam laughed,
"Is it going to come to that?" Chance glanced at Sam and then back at the form, it was in the light now, she could clearly see it was a woman, she was in her night-gown. Chance would have dismissed her entirely if she hadn't had a creepy smile on her face, she looked back and forth between the boys as though she had landed quite the prize indeed and when she looked at Chance, for just a moment, her pupils bled out in tendrils, snaking out from their dark core, covering the whites of her eyes.
"Demon," Chance whispered to herself. Sam lowered his head,
"What was that?" He asked, still smiling at Dean's joke. In answer Chance drew her gun and fired one round into the demons skull.
"Is that all you've got little Chance?" It laughed, "it's going to take more than a bullet to do any damage to me." Chance just smiled as the demon realized it couldn't move. At this point Sam and Dean had spun around guns in hands and both were trained on the demon.
"She can't move guys," Chance said, motioning for them to lower their weapons, "You can put your guns down." She walked up to the demon and pushed its head with her index and middle finger,
"Demon trap to the skull, bitch." She spat. The demon laughed,
"Well get on with it, little girl. Oh, wouldn't your daddy be proud. Shooting women in the dark now?" Chance began reciting rhythmically in Latin,
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, Ergo Draco maledicte et sectio Ergo Draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, Audi nos." Black smoke poured from the womans mouth and sank intoq the ground, and then she collapsed. Dead. Chance walked through the boys, who's eyes were wide in surprise, heading back to her room.
"Damn," Dean laughed, his astonished eyes followed her as she walked away, "That was impressive."
"It's probably just a cat. Go let Cas the angel protect you," she called over her shoulder teasingly as she vanished into her room.
