This was done for the Ungen Summer Challenge 2009.

Three POVs from the night of that fire. The night that Mary died.

YED's, Dean's and Missouri's experience and feelings in relation to that night.

Enjoy, Mary x

YED, Kansas, 1983

I enter the house via the tradition method, in through the front door, smiling as I step over the welcome mat. It's so polite when people do that don't you think, welcome strangers into their homes, especially with what I have come to collect. Or is it deposit?

The only sound in the house is the television that John has fallen asleep in front of. There is some old war movie playing, paying tribute to the glorious death of the soldiers that had fallen in whatever battle is was that the humans were fighting with each other this time. A smile crosses my face as I think how these wars will all pale into insignificance to the one that I am about to set the course for, upstairs in this very house.

The landing at the top of the stairs leads to a little runway of closed doors but even still I know which one it is that my prize lies behind. It is a door though on the other side of the hallway that takes my attention for just a moment. I walk over and slowly push it open.

The small blonde haired boy is so beautiful in his easy sleep that it is a huge temptation for me just to kill him there, leave him bloody for his father to find. I lean forward and card my fingers through his soft hair, making him whimper quietly and turn over, away from me.

The voice ghosts through me.

You can cover whatever the hell you want, but I'm still gonna kill you.

"Future boy." I touch the sleeping child's throat, maybe I should just do it, tighten my grip and squeeze the life right out of him. "Where are your angels now?"

The image is clear in my head then, this child as a man, defiance shining in his green eyes. Maybe not today, but you look into my eyes you son of a bitch, cause I'm the one that kills you. I want to wake him, to see those eyes, to check if it really is him.

I lean low to whisper, a little chuckle escaping. "I'm not the one that you'll have to kill to stop this."

I give into the urge to tighten my fingers and he coughs but doesn't wake. It's then I hear the noise. The mother. Dear, sweet, beautiful Mary is awake and I no longer have time to play with this son when the other is patiently awaiting my arrival. "Later."

I glide across to the nursery, the lovingly constructed room in which this child was to be nurtured through its first few years of life. I slit my wrist and provide him with some nurture of my very own.

"John? Is he hungry?" Her voice is as sweet as the rest of her and I know that this is one that I am going to enjoy, that this child is special. A son of a hunter and not just any hunter….Mary Campbell. I make a little 'ssh' sound. She goes, thinking that her child is safe, being comforted by her husband.

Sammy. I like the sound of his name in my head. A strong name. An old name that is suited to the ancient evil that even now is seeping into the child before me.

The noise makes me turn. She is standing there in the doorway again, more beautiful than I remember, time has been kind to her, at least up until now.

"It's you."

Recognition shines in her eyes and she steps towards me. It is with a little pang of remorse that I flick my head and pin her against the wall. Her children are strong, she could perhaps have given me others but now she knows what I want…..now I have to finish her role in this game.

She makes no sound as I drag her up the wall and onto the ceiling, but she will soon, she has too. John has to come, only he can save his child now. Save him at least that is until I am ready for him, until he is old enough to take the challenge with the others.

I pull my arm across the air and tilt my head, letting the first few drops of her blood land softly onto my lips, her taste proving that her beauty is more than just skin deep. I wish that I could stay a while and feast at her banquet but she screams then as I knew she would have to and I hear him.

Feet on the stairs, coming to save that which can no longer be saved. His family is gone. His life, like hers, is over…..he just doesn't know it yet.

Slipping out the room as John comes in, he does not see me, eyes only for the son in front of him, thoughts only of his wife in his head, sleep still fogging the process of his mind.

The other child is awake, standing in the hallway and I get a brief glimpse of those eyes that I so wanted to see. A little smile of satisfaction crosses my lips, knowing that even death, should it come to call from him, cannot stop me now.

John is coming so I slip quietly back to the master bedroom, falling from the window, mindless of the damage to the skin that I will soon shed. I watch as the room explodes, wait until I see the child carried safely from the bowels of the house in the arms of his brother.

My work is done, the children are now all bound to me, all I can do is wait for my moment to come. For my champion to rise up above the others. I can't help but hope that this child will be the one. Good stock always makes a difference I have found.

I lick my lips for one last taste of her.

The small family stands in the shadows, the baby huddled in safety between the father and the brother, both watching as the world they know burns down around them. A small portent perhaps of the future that the child they so carefully protect will bring to pass.

With that happy thought….I take my leave.

Chapter End Notes:

One down, two to go...onto Dean.......