Well, here's a new story. I was bored one day, and unhappy with the small amount of stories for Anna Dressed in Blood, so I wrote this. Hope you enjoy.

Title: Hunted

Rating: M

Genre: Horror, Supernatural

Summary: Cas hunts Will Rosenberg after he takes his athamé.

Characters: Cas Lowood, Anna Korlov, Will Rosenberg

Relationships: Cas/Anna

Warnings: Cas really doesn't like it when someone steals from him. Also, chapters will be relatively short for this story.

I growled lowly, hands trembling as I clenched them into fists. My nails dug into my palms hard enough to draw blood as my breathing became heavy and labored. That fool dared to steal from me?

Anna noticed my increasing rage, shifting in the air as she wrung her hands. "Cas. We'll get your athamé back. Don't worry."

A bitter laugh escaped me, a cruel sound I was not used to making. "I'm not worrying, and you shouldn't worry about me. I'll be fine." I turned and headed out of the abandoned house's front door. Anna floated behind me, a constant chill over my spine as I pushed open the door and stalked out.

"You know," Anna murmured, her voice an almost nonexistent whisper as her breath brushed feather-light over the back of my neck, "I've never seen you like this."

I made a beeline for my car, trying so hard not to punch the first thing I saw. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're ruthlessly determined to stop this guy from using your knife in a way that will harm both of you." The ghost floated in front of me, long and colorless hair flowing in snakelike strands. "What are you going to do when you find him?"

A grin spread across my lips as I turned back to face her. "I'm going to teach a lesson he'll never forget."

I grinned to myself in satisfaction, the cool metal of the weirdo's knife thudding against my thigh. I was on my way home, and was going to boast about my new find, just to irritate the new kid. It would teach him not to mess with me anymore, and to stop acting like he was all high and mighty simply because he could kill ghosts.

What's so special about this stupid knife? So what if the guy can kill ghosts; the only thing that gives him that "power" was the blade. And making up that stupid story about it being a family heirloom…he must think that I'm stupid.

A cold wind was beginning to blow, making me shiver and stop to zip up my varsity jacket. Moonlight washed over the world, bleaching almost everything to a haunted shade of white. Leaves rustled in the well-kept yards that I passed, gliding over the ground as they chased each other with an almost playful giddiness. Winter was just around the corner, and the nights of the fall were steadily getting colder with each passing week.

As I was walking, however, there was a chill beginning to work its way down my spine. It was unsettling enough to make me slow ever so slightly. It gave me the feeling that there was someone watching me, or something. It was that feeling that someone would get when they felt the eyes boring into the back of their head, and then the hairs on their arms and neck would stand on end.

Panic could not help but rise as I felt the cold breathing on the back of my neck while dark and demented laughter rang in my ears.

I whipped around, eyes wide and fists clenched as he prepared himself for an attack. "Whoever's there, you'd better show yourself! I-I'm armed!" Almost unintentionally, my hand slipped down to brush over the knife. If someone was dumb enough to attack one of the most popular and well-known kids in the neighborhood, at least I had something I could defend myself with.

I waited.

Nothing.

There was nothing there.

Cool it, Rosenberg. You're just being paranoid because that freak and his pet ghost are getting to you. Quit acting like an idiot and get your head in the game.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I turned back only to come face to face with a tall teen.

One who happened to be Cas.

I lashed out on instinct, fist flying towards the teen's face. Anticipating the attack, Cas caught my hand in a surprising iron grip, his long and skeletal fingers pressing hard enough to make me wince.

"Jesus Christ, man!" I yanked my hand out and cradled it against my chest, stumbling back as my heart raced hard enough to be painful. "Where did you come from?"

Cas grinned at me in a way that sent chills down my spine. "I was taking the long way home, but I happened to find out that you lived nearby, so I wanted to stop by and have a little chat. But I guess we can do that right now, while we walk together." He spread out his hands in a twisted version of a welcome. The wind lapped at his plain black shirt while the moonlight illuminated his dark and acid-washed jeans.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling strangely like an animal trapped in a cage. "Well, I'm fine on my own. What, you think some ghost is going to attack me? Is all this kindness just so you can get your stupid knife back?"

The grin on Cas's face faltered ever so slightly, but a strange gleam still shone in his eyes. "What's done is done. But you did steal from me. People in my family will not like that."

"Enough with that crap!" Before either of us could tell what had happened, I was shoving the other teen against the nearest tree. "I'm sick of this! You're just some Goth wannabe who thinks you're so special just by trying to kill some stupid ghost!"

To my surprise, Cas only laughed. "I know what you think of me, Will. You don't need to constantly remind me." Dark eyes flashing dangerously, he leaned closer so that his lips were almost brushing against the side of my face. "But let me remind you of one thing: your friend's death was your own fault."

My eyes widened to nearly comedic levels, and I scowled and pressed the slimmer male harder against the tree, smirking in satisfaction when a pained grunt sounded. "You'd better watch your mouth, ghost boy, if you want to keep it."

Cas tilted his head, dark hair concealing his eyes. "See? That's what I'm talking about. You blame me for the death of that idiot. I was the one who told you not to enter. You all were the dumb jocks—and you still are." His voice lowered to a soft hiss, full of venom and spite. "You are the one to blame, Rosenberg. And I know you blame yourself. You cry every night about it, don't you? You see it flash before your eyes—Anna's hands going through Mike's torso, tearing through the muscle and bone as she ripped him to pieces. It's all. Your. Fault."

"Sh-Shut up!" I was trembling in fury now, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes as I slammed the darker teen against the tree repeatedly. He was making those unwanted memories come back, after I had tried so hard to make them go away. "Don't try and blame us! This all started after you came here! How do we know that you're not working with her?"

"I knew you couldn't handle the truth." Sighing heavily, Cas shifted beneath the heavier weight of my larger body, the rough bark catching on his shirt. "Let me up, would you? It's almost past my curfew."

"Why should I?" I was baring my teeth in a nearly feral scowl as I pressed the hunter harder against the helpless tree. My fist rose to brush against smooth, pale skin. Oh, how I wanted to beat the crap out of this loser. "What's going to stop me from beating the living daylights out of you?"

Cas grinned once again, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Go ahead and try. I won't stop you."

I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around what he had just said. This maniac wouldn't really let himself be hurt, right? It was all just to prove a point, wasn't it?

Scowling, I abruptly let go of the wrinkled dark shirt and turned away, glaring at a nearby streetlight. "You are one messed up, kid, you know that?"

"How do you think I got through high school?" Cas murmured, shrugging with his back to me, and I could see the thin tears in the fabric of his shirt, blood staining the edges of the broken skin.

"Rosenberg!"

I nearly fell flat on my face as I tripped over my feet, righting myself before I fell. "What?"

Cas was staring over his shoulder at me, the slightest hint of a frown beginning to grace his lips. "Come on, already, would you? There's something I want to show you."

"Why would I be interested in anything that you are?" I demanded harshly, crossing my arms over my chest. Not only did I hate this guy, I couldn't be seen with him. Not with my reputation on the line already.

"Because I'm not going to let you leave until I get what I want." In a matter of seconds, he was uncomfortably close to me, one of his cold and large hands pressed against my chest. "And you know what I want, don't you, Rosenberg?"

I scowled once more and shoved the other male away, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. "Get lost, creep. The knife's mine now."

"I want it back." Despite my warning, he kept moving closer to me. The wind was picking up speed, making his raven hair wave like a child in the wind. His fists clenched at his sides, and the muscles beneath his skin rippled like the water in a pond after someone throws a stone at it. "You took something that belongs to me. I want. It. Back."

The trapped animal feeling was beginning to return, and the chill crept down my spine with poisoned spider legs. But even as I felt a tremendous amount of unease, an idea came to mind.

"You know what?" My tone made the dark teen falter, though he kept advancing as he glared at me with an unnerving intensity. But I knew he was listening.

"You can get the stupid knife back. But only if you are able to survive the Pit."

His interest was stirred, and he stopped, lips pressed together. "I'm listening."

I forced myself to contain my smile. Of course he couldn't resist the chance to show off again. "It's an abandoned mansion up on the hill on the far side of town. There are rumors that hundreds of ghosts are there, but of course, no one's ever entered and lived to tell what really happens there."

There was a flash of white as Cas' lips curled back in a brief smile. "Take me there."

Will came to a stop as we neared the top of the hill. The mansion he spoke of loomed over us like a watchful and scolding mother. It seemed to be from the Victorian era, with most of the sash windows smashed and the rust-colored bricks full of decay. Despite its ragged appearance, the grand building radiated an air of mystery and power. It was enough to send a thrilling chill down my spine.

Oh, yes. This was going to be so much fun.

A faint trail of icy air brushed against my arm, and I slowed my pace. The chill worked its way up my arm, and then ghosted over the nape of my neck. I put on a show of shivering, running my hands over the exposed skin of my arms.

Everything was going according to the plan. She was here, and we could continue on.

"Getting scared already?" Will glanced back at me, that infuriating grin still on his face. Of course he thought I couldn't do this.

My expression darkened. "Why would I be?" I narrowed my eyes, glaring hard enough to make the jock glance away. With a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I turned and began to make my way up the cobblestone path that was on the side of the hill, but a heavy hand pulled me back without warning.

"Now wait a minute." Will glared down at me, lips set in a deep and irritated frown. "I'm the one who's supposed to take you in."

I forced myself to restrain the urge to punch him as I clenched my hands into fists. "I thought you wanted me to survive the Pit. How am I going to do that if I have you breathing over my shoulder like a worrisome mother?"

He faltered at that, and I smirked. Honestly, I'm surprised that he survived Anna.

A frozen wind slammed against the back of my head, making my hair fan out in waves. I grunted in irritation but played it off as a scoff, fixing my stare on the larger teen when he gave me a strange look.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" I turned and headed up the darkened cobblestone path. "Let's get this over with."

I think the most chapters this story will have is somewhere between five and ten. This is just a start, so let me know what you think.

Also, am I the only one who is irritated because there isn't a physical description of Cas in the novel at all?