Chapter One;
A soft, airy and barely there melody calmed the mildewy motel room accommodating Keragrine as her hands toyed with the sheet of chalk labels. Before her sat her focus; a simple glass jar, almost like a small candle jar, with the rubber and glass stopper shielding the liquid from the oxygen outside. Inside the jar, still now, a bronze liquid filled the majority of the jar, coming shy three inches beneath the rubber half of the stopper. When shaken, the liquid would peel to the sides, lazy and slow as if legs on a fine aged wine. Her humming progressed, the light sound rare for her and only occurring when alone, as Keragrine flattened carefully the chalk label upon the glass jar.
Black contrasted with glass and the shielded bronze of the liquid as it lay still within its confines. She tilted her head curiously as she reached blindly into the toiletry bag beside her, massed golden and white curls tumbling over her shoulder and caressing the top of her exposed breast in the lifted lacey black bra, matched with the only other clothing worn upon her porcelain skin; a thin and delicate lace pair of black panties. Keragrine had shedded her clothing immediately upon entering the motel room, now lain folded neatly and expertly within the vibrant purple pop up hamper she kept on her travels. The neat display clashed violently with the bloody and muddy disarray the clothing presented, fitting for the latest of her misadventures. Retracting her delicate pale hand from the toiletry bag, her fingers now clutched a white liquid chalk marker she would use to label the newly acquired liquid.
Keragrine peered closely in concentration as she slowly, expertly calligraphed the "BoV" upon the black chalk label. Once done with a swoop her humming ceased and was replaced with the excessive click of the cap upon the pen. She was careful to peer across the room, searching for any evidence beside her belongings as to her presence there, pulling her small dollar store notebook and pen from the toiletry bag. Her mind would seem elsewhere to anyone who would witness her presence however her mind was far from anywhere other than where she was. Delicate swoops led her hands as she wrote beneath her previous writing of her new collection.
BoV - Blood of Vampire
It wasn't very long past categorizing her new addition to her collection that she had swiftly changed into a black form fitting sweater and a pair of dark jeans, pulling on her dark combat boots and scavenging what was left of her belongings, all placed neatly in their assigned place in her luggage. Keragrine knew she had to leave soon, not encouraging being seen publicly and it would be very dark very soon, offering her enough cover to escape her confines. Everything about her appeared neat, compulsively so, excluding the wavy and curly mass of blonde hair that flowed effortlessly down her back to just above her waistband of her jeans. Even the smooth inky black line of her eyeliner, winged at the edges and accenting her smoky hazel eyes, was smudge free and flawless. She tried very hard at appearing he best while not attracting attention or problems. She did not socialize and truly beyond her hunts and the occasional necessary shopping (replacement clothes for damaged or ruined items, grocery shopping as to avoid social interactions with waitresses/waiters/servers/etc., Etc.) Her life consisted of not much more. Unfortunately social interactions was occasionally necessary for research purposes however she kept her speech to an absolute minimal, only offering a whispered question or answer on very rare occasions and only to those she had known for years. She did not speak to anyone she did not trust, which consisted of %99.99999 of the human population. She simply did not speak.
Within twenty minutes, Keragrine had begun to leave town. Within thirty, she had left town. Within an hour, she was halfway to her destination in Defiance, Ohio. Traveling within her compulsively scrubbed '16 Ford Explorer with the license plate of KS 8008, Keragrine was comfortable.
Dean Winchester scowled at the scary looking library before him, the menacing structure appalling to his mind. Sammy was with Bobby for a while, his grades in Sioux Falls High beginning to soar. Bobby had practically had to pin John's arm to get him to leave his son behind. Bobby had a life and career in mind for the child while John had a mission and a bond in mind. Dean...well, he just wanted to get this over with. John had told him he would take him back to Bobby's after this hunt and go on the next two without him.Still, the thought of any library was disgustingly boring to the fourteen year old boy. The thought of the doing hours spent focused on ink and paper, scavenging for a clue as to what the hell they would be fighting this time around. Flicking the collar on his arm green canvas jacket, Dean pushed through, shoving his hands into his Jean pockets. His boots clunked heavily against the stone steps and the wind seared through the holes in his jeans as he struggled just to encourage himself enough to go inside.A smirk crossed his mind as he thought of the oncoming expression the librarian would have as he approached. The woman was older, pale and chalky skin sagging near the jawline, her vibrant red hair pinned into massed curls atop her head and oversized pearl earrings matching the pearl string her reading glasses attached to. "Excuse me," Dean called softly, not in the mood to be shushed. The woman peered at Dean over the brim of her black cat eye glasses. "Yes, dear?" The woman responded kindly in a crackly, aged voice. Dean offered a smile which only appeared as a grimace. It was clear to all who saw that he did not want to be there. "I'm looking for a book and I was hoping you could help me find it…?" Dean offered, awaiting the long lasting inquiry as to which book. She would need to know to help. The woman's wide red painted lips cracked her blank, caring mask into a grin. "Oh, deary, you must be new to here." The woman responded kindly, assaulting Dean with confusion. A librarian who can't find a book? Dean questioned silently with a touch of amusement to his mind."The one you're going to want to speak with is at that far table there," the librarian finally accommodated as she pointed a gnarled bony finger towards the stacks of the library. Dean followed her line of sight towards the tables amidst the stacks. Amongst the scattered company of the tables, sat one single young girl looking even younger than Sammy. Dean could only describe her as a ball of yellow and white frizz, her hair an untamable mane and overpowering her small pale figure. From the desk at the front of the library to the table she sat at the far end of the library, Dean could notice the girl almost appeared sickly with hollow cheeks and rounded violet circles beneath her dull blue eyes. Her skin appeared so pale, she seemed to not have seen sunlight in years, and her frame so thin she swam in the dark blue hoodie she wore, the Jersey material worn and torn in places. If Dean didn't know any better he would say she was a Hunter's kid.Dean peered back with a confused expression, delighting the older woman. "She spends her days and most of her nights here; has the entire collection memorized and categorized. With me, I'd have to search for the book in the inventory. With her, she will lead you straight to where she put it." The older woman explained gleefully. Dean's brow furrowed as he mentally questioned the moral of her parents, although he wasn't one to talk. The older woman appeared to remember something, her face lightened and almost saddened at the realization of something she hadn't yet told the boy. "Now, she won't talk to you but if you tell her Gertrude sent you and tell her the book you're searching for, she'll lead you there." The librarian instructed finally, peering down to her previous activity on the computer behind the desk.Dean didn't bother with asking anything more; it was none of his business and Gertrude was clearly done explaining anything more. With a light grimace, he pushed forward, hands still fisted in his pockets and maneuvered around the table to the girl. He hadn't noticed the various stacks of books strewn around the girl before then however he was shocked at how he could have missed it. Books lay everywhere from scattered across the tabletop to in stacks below and beside the chairs. He approached carefully, figuring the girl was shy and pegged that as what kept the girl from talking."Hey," Dean quietly greeted, attempting not to scare the young girl. Closer now, she seemed not too far off from Sammy's age, closer to ten maybe. His approach seemed to have work as the girl calmly turned her face to greet him. For a moment Dean was stunned, almost terrified at the way she had moved with a fluid motion like lazily swimming through the air before her. What also caught him off guard was the expression she wore. Pure blankness greeted him yet pinned to him in Laser like focus, her eyes wide and doe like. The pure innocence of her expression contrasted sharply with the sullen state of her form. There was no "almost" about any of it, the way she was...it was sad, tragic even. It was like watching a toddler be starved. Dean struggled to shake himself as she continued starting, awaiting an explanation as to why he was approaching her."Uh, Gertrude sent me over…" He offered, his voice shaken by his reaction to her."I'm looking for a book."
Dean offered a smirk and a suggestive eyebrow waggle through his full mouth, aimed directly towards his brother. "Dude," he commented, referring toward the large breasts and ass on their waitress, "Maggie". Sam scoffed, reaching toward his soda and not willing to express his disgust at his brother's constant harassment. "Yeah and dude, she's probably still in high school." Sam commented, earning a confused and dumbstruck expression from his brother. He knew too well that Dean's attention had not been drawn once to the underage waitress's face.
"So, where does the road lead?" Dean questioned, brushing the subject off yet still with a furrowed brow as he ripped free another bite of his overpowered cheeseburger. Sam scoffed yet again at the messy way Dean approached his meal yet turned toward the laptop pushed off to the side with a dismissive cock of his eyebrows. "Uh, Defiance, Ohio it looks like." He responded, his brow furrowing the further he read on the website for the town. "Looks like massive power outages and accidents have been occurring all across the town. Too many incidents plus the lore pulls it to where it looks like a deranged and outraged spirit." Sam offered toward his brother and earning an even more confused expression.
"Wait, you're saying a ghost all across town?" Dean questioned in disbelief. Sam responded with a shrug. "Ghost, demon, I don't know; all I know is something supernatural is going on in that town." He answered. Dean's eyes widened for a brief second in disbelief. It was thin, at best but they've gone on threads before. It was at least worth checking out. They needed something anyways, anything! They've been trying to scour up any information, any leads on Yellow Eyes and his cronies for months now and they still came up with squat.
Maggie returned in that intermission with refills on both drinks and offering a hefty view of cleavage behind the mustard yellow uniform of the diner. Dean chanced a glance at the face and was stunned at the youth behind it. No way was that face legal, unfortunately including that body. Once Maggie had left, Dean could only respond to the situation with a simple, "what the hell are they feeding these kids?!"
"So anything interesting today or just same old, same old?" Dean snarked quietly as he dropped his books with a loud clunk upon the table. Per routine for the past few days, the girl remained silent and didn't offer as much as a glance upwards. Dena had returned enough to raise suspicion with John. Still, Dean returned early in the morning till late at night, offering lunch and one ended conversation every day for four, maybe even five days at this point.And then he was stunned into silence as she responded, briefly yet still responded. "Mostly fiction," the girl offered. Dean didn't know how to respond as he questioned whether she had spoken at all as the sound had been lilting, airy and so childlike he questioned her youth again. It was as if she had spoken and the breeze had drifted with her voice.Clearing his throat, Dean wondered whether he could even keep up a conversation with what sounded like a ghost of a childhood. "So, are you, uh, gonna tell me your name or do I have to guess?" He questioned, causing her to raise her gaze. Yet again he was he stunned by the pure innocence of her blank stare. "Keragrine," she answered softly, sticking to brief but not clipped responses. The way she formed her name had a thick dull 'r' at first then rolled at the end, almost forming an accent that she had not spoken at first. "Green, huh?" Dean chuckled softly. "Doesn't look so easy being green, huh, Kermit?" He offered rhetorically, regarding her blank stares and disarrayed state. Today her mane had been pulled together in what appeared to be a shakily fixed newspaper rubber band yet still excessive around her thin form.For the first time, Keragrine offered an expression: confusion. "Muppets?" Dean tried to explain. "You know, the song?" He tried again, earning a tilt of her head and again the fluid motion scared him. It was eerie to say the least. He began to hum the tune, attempting to jog her memory. Still, who was now known to him as Kermit, she did not know who Kermit the frog was.
Keragrine watched distantly, prepared to start up her car and follow any lead on whatever it was she was following. The procedure for her was different from other hunters, due to her handicap. By the point in life, it had become more of a choice and she would do no good by denying such. Whereas hunters would often impersonate law enforcement; FBI, DEA, Sheriff's department, or local PD; Keragrine chose to simply piggyback off of others, following leads drawn by actual law enforcement, and from there would follow what she liked to call her gut but was in all actuality deduced scenarios and stories formed in her head. It hadn't failed her yet.
She liked to believe that what she did was easier but in reality became far more complicated than if she had simply talked to witnesses and been, even falsely, socially interactive. In her car, was everything she required for survelliance such as binoculars, miniaturized long range survelliance cameras that she had gotten from a local "spy" shop a ways back as well as an eavesdropping device. She would always recollect the cameras when the hunt was done and no one would even know she was there once her cleanup was done.
Keragrine sat, stationed outside of the local PD, gazing at the doors and awaiting for her police scanner to mention her case. No binoculars we're required as she was parked only a brief distance away yet not noticeably close. Upon her head sat a relatively convincing brunette wig, melded to her skin with synthetic skin and blended to her makeup. She wore a decent pair of sunglasses to shelter her eyes from wandering gazes as well as the glare from the sun and her darkened clothes with the soft, warm black sweater draping over her pale shoulders and her form fitting dark jeans, she also wore her black combat boots. She was full incognito as she watched from the distance and anyone who saw her, if asked, would repeat a false appearance that could not be led to her.
Keragrine had just become bored with the day to day scenario of men walking in, men walking out when she noticed two particularly odd men heading toward the door. Her brow knotted in confusion, a very brief expression she allowed, when she felt a nudge at her memory. One of the men was completely unfamiliar, what with his shaggy brunette hair, reaching just below his ears, and his overbearing tall stature in his unrecognizable yet somewhat nice suit. It would seem just a normal suit to others yet some details such as the miscounted threads and the sheen of the fabric, dulled to look expensive, would encourage the idea that his suit was cheaper than you would think. This indicated that he was not law enforcement at all.
The one beside the taller, shorter yet not by much and more bulk than length yet fittingly so, was the one she recognized. If she couldn't remember then it must've been a while ago, however she had never truly literally met a hunter except…
And now she could see it and released her confused expression to replace with her usual blankness. She could see to the dimples in his cheeks and the natural tan of his skin, the almost blonde light brunette hair, and the, now fully formed, strong jaw line that wrapped around his smile when he smirked to his partner. This was Dean Winchester.
This was her friend.