Right. Hello! This is my first fanfiction in Supernatural and well, on this site altogether. Needless to say, I want no punches barred and I want honest-to-god opinions about everything. Right, moving past that. (Warning: Long foreword.)
This is supposed to be a sort-of AU of Supernatural. One of the things I noticed is that while a lot of hunters occasionally show up once in a while in the show, very few survive beyond Sam and Dean. A thing that, while I understand, prevents me from getting attached to anyone that Sam, Dean or Castiel from the later series. So, this is me telling Supernatural with the twist that Sam and Dean more or less have a team of hunters to consistently rely on. Starting about early Season 3, the story will become more and more AU as it goes, but I will still do my best to add in canon events. With that being said, expect tons of OCs. (None are related to the Winchesters.)
I will say now, there will be a ton of OCs. At this point, I currently have 6 or 7 OCs that will become recurring and possibly main characters. That being said, I am not afraid of killing them off, so don't expect any moments of "BS Hero Survival!". If a character could die in a situation, there will be a legitimate chance that they will be killed off. But you know, that doesn't mean I'm going to go kill crazy. In all fairness, I will say that I am trying different characters I want to use in original works, this is just me trying to write them. So, don't feel bad about critiquing the characters either.
With those things being said, I will be accepting Q&A! I'll answer best I can in foreword but no promises. Also, one question for you, the audience. Do you want me to post this story in several separate stories or one long mega story?
Water. He needed water. His dry mouth made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat burned as his yearning grew wider. His stomach growled in anger, demanding food and his mind raced over the constant thought of feeding himself. His stomach had already shrunk and his once average frame was now emaciated, with his ribs bare on his skin. He turned towards the fridge behind him, his sweatly and gaunt cheeks reflected the light from the television as he did so. It was so far away, so far.
The smells that wafted to his face caused him to cringe his noise in disgust as well. The bathroom had been too far too, but he didn't want to concern himself with that. No, thinking about it only made him disgusted and being disgusted wasn't worth the energy anymore. He only barely paid attention to the shows that he was watching as it was, following the flashing colors and noises was too much. In fact, he wasn't even sure what was on his television anymore. No, he just wanted water. Thinking about water was much easier than watching television. He could almost feel the water trickling down his throat, subsiding the burning feeling that was plaguing him and causing him to let out a sigh of relief, only for his sticky mouth to bring him back to the reality of his situation.
The phone rang, causing him to flinch as the sound assaulted his ears. The phone was hard to ignore, not like the television. The ring was shrill and annoying, designed so he couldn't ignore it. His brain hurt as he thought about the phone, not like thinking about something so complex. Another shrill ring, causing another flinch. He thought over it, wondering what he could eat and drink that would help him. There were so many options. He could have that sandwich he bought, though it was almost a week old now. There was also…Another shrill ring. Also a cranberry grape juice bottle in the fridge, one that would easily sooth his throat. The phone didn't ring again, instead going to voicemail. He ignored the words, words were easy to ignore. It was the hunger that he had to think about.
He tried to stand, tried to force himself from his own couch. But the thought of walking the distance from the couch to the fridge slowly ebbed any thoughts of walking from his head. It was too far. A never ending chasm between him and his fridge that wasn't worth the risk. There was no point of walking there just for a snack. By the time he reached it, he will have burnt too much energy and it would have just been a wasted effort. No, he'll just sit here and wait. The walk wasn't worth it.
Coopersville, Michigan
"Why the hell is FBI interested in these cases?" Officer Portia asked as she lead the two supposed FBI agents back towards the case files. The shorter one simply smiled and shrugged.
"Hey, I don't ask questions. My boss tells me to investigate something strange and that's what I do." Dean Winchester bluffed away the question. Then, with a wave of the hand, brought the attention back to the case files. "So, you say all the victims all died in strange ways." Portia paused for a moment, eying them suspiciously before sighing.
"Yeah, for the most part. The first two we could easily chalk up as a suicide and accidental death but the last one is the one that's causing superstitions to fly around the office." Portia explained grabbing the case file. "Jason Cartefield, a 22 year old male tattoo artist. We found him dead in his apartment just yesterday. We're looking for signs of foul play but for the moment, we're leaning towards suicide. The weirdest suicide ever." She handed the file to Dean, who opened it and looked at the cause of death.
"This says he died of dehydration?" Sam questioned the report.
"Yeah. Managed to sit on his couch and starve himself to death. You either have amazing will power or you're just that right kind of lazy to pull that off." Portia commented, her mind still boggled how a man can do that. "The other two are less strange. The most recent one was Lenore Erin, threw herself out the window. M.E. claims she was asleep when it happened."
"And that's not weird?" Dean questioned with skepticism. Portia shrugged at the question.
"Some guy a few years back some guy killed himself chopping off his own arm and eating it before he bled out. Trust me, I've seen weirder. In any case, she took all sorts of pills for insomnia. She probably just took a bunch of them and sleep walked right out the window." Portia shrugged. Dean and Sam exchanged a disturbed look at the image this presented, but decided not to bring it up. "First victim was a man named Samuel Hopkins. Got home after a long day of work, took a bath, fell asleep and drowned in his tub."
"So, why does the department think they are connected?" Sam questioned, as he looked at the number of odd things in the police report.
"Well, oddly enough, all of these people lived and…..died in the exact same apartment building. The Briarlane apartment, apartment numbers 200." Portia pulled out the other two case files and opened them to the appropriate pages. "The more paranoid detectives think something else is happening here, but I say it's just one large coincidence." Dean nodded in a faux agreement, giving Sam an knowing look as she spoke.
"Yeah, just a coincidence."
Raven flinched as the loud knock sounded through the dark apartment, her heart beginning to race. Cautiously, she stepped forward and carefully lifted the corner of the heavy curtain that protected her from the outside world, looking to see who was now knocking on the door. It was two men, ones she had never seen before. They were wearing casual clothing with one in a brown leather jacket and the other wearing a casual hoodie, patiently waiting at her door as they waited for her to open it. She frowned. They didn't seem like the others.
The shorter one stood casually, hands in his pockets as he bounced on his heels, whistling as he waited for the door to open. His brown hair was short and messy, and his brown eyes danced around the apartment complex as he stood in front. The taller one was already sighing, glancing at his watch as he waited. His hair was longer than the others, but more well-groomed and seemed more relaxed than the other. "Maybe no one's home?" He eventually mentioned to the shorter of the two. The shorter one took a deep breath and shook his head.
He knocked on the door again, this time harder and louder. He used his knuckles this time, making the hollow sound echo around her apartment this time. He wanted to be heard. That didn't make sense. The others just stood outside after the first knock, as if they knew she was there and knew that they couldn't get through unless she let them.
"Damn it." The man commented after a couple minutes when Raven didn't answer the door. He took a quick glance around before producing a kit from his pocket and getting down on one knee. The taller one looked at him with a look of disbelief before looking around.
"Really Dean?" He said, stepping back in a way that shielded Dean from the view of the rest of the apartment block while facing away from him. Raven wasn't worried about the lockpicking, the deadbolt and the door chain would keep them out even if they managed to pick the lock.
Her grip tightened as she considered opening the door and talking to them, but the thought caused her heart to race faster than it had when she thought they were hostile. She didn't have her hoodie on. She couldn't hide her face. They would think her hideous and creepy. She could already see their horrified stares, aimed at her as they saw how horrible she was. She could hear the remarks, calling her a monster or freak. She relaxed her grip on the curtain as the metal bar holding them up began to squeak with the added weight. No, no, no. She'll just stay inside, pretending she wasn't home. "Look some type of supernatural crap is happening here. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like letting a piece of wood stop me." The lock clicked as he successfully picked it, causing him to laugh in triumph. "Don't worry Sammy, we'll be in and out in a second." He tested the door, only to grimace when he found the deadbolt was locked too. "Hang on, forgot the deadbolt."
She could see Sam roll his eyes despite the fact he was facing away and turning to face Dean as he continued. However, as he turned, his eyes fell upon the window that she was gazing out of, and he noticed the pair of eyes that were currently watching them. "Dean." He said quickly, tapping his partner as he noticed. Raven quickly let go of the curtain and scuttled back into the living room. They noticed her. Now they knew she was in here and she couldn't pretend to just not be home. Her hands began to shake a little at the thought of confronting them after being found to have spied on them. They'll think she was weird, watching them without revealing herself. There was a knock on the door again, this time accompanied by a voice. "Ma'am! We wanted to talk to you about the death of Jason Cartefield, the man who lived above you!"
Her heart was racing. They weren't going away, they were going to stay until she opened the door. She had no choice now. She had to open it, had to talk to them. Her heart was hitting her ribs at this point and her breaths started to grow shorter and shallower. She just wanted to hide behind the couch, like she used to be able to do when she was younger. Pretend they weren't there and hide. She could out-wait them then. Even if they were to bust down the door, they wouldn't find her. She was always good at hiding. But no, they had seen here. Now, they would stay, waiting for her to open the door. Wanting to talk about Jason. She swallowed hard and stood up.
It wouldn't be so hard, would it? Just answer their questions, short and curt. They couldn't come in unless she wanted them to, even if they were like the others. They wouldn't want to stick around either, after she had caught them trying to break into her house. The sooner she answered the questions, the sooner they would be gone and she wouldn't have to see their disgusted faces as they looked at her. Her breaths began to slow once more, becoming deeper and longer with each second she talked to her. Her heart betrayed her true nervous, beating so loudly she could swear that she could hear the echo around the room. Or maybe that was them knocking again? It wouldn't take long. All she had to do was answer the questions. Nothing more than that. Her hand touched the cold metal of the deadbolt, slowly unlocking the door as she convinced herself it wouldn't be so bad.
After all, they just wanted to talk about Jason. They wouldn't be interested in her, so they wouldn't judge as harshly right? She paused as her hand rested on the door lock. She had to talk. She always stuttered when she had to talk to new people. They would look at her as if she was immature, or maybe wrong in the head, wondering what was wrong with her as she stumbled over the simplest word. If it was at all possible, her heart rate almost seemed to increase more, convincing her that her heart had to be almost bursting out of her chest at this point. This wasn't a good idea. No, it wasn't. They would laugh and mock her when she spoke. The very thought of their raucous laughter made her reconsider locking the deadbolt, to the point that she was already turning the lock when she stopped herself.
No, she had to do this. They had already seen her, they knew she was here. They would just come back if they left, she knew it. She just had to do it. She just wouldn't take, she'll answer their questions without talking. She left the door chain in this time, simply turning the knob and opening the door. The two men were still there but they looked a little impatient. She had taken too long and they already didn't like her. She shrunk back a bit, so that only her left eye was visible to them. At least they could see how ugly she was. They would really hate her then. "Ms. Taithleach?" The one called Sam asked when saw the door was open.
She nodded, her movements slow and deliberate, hoping they could see her. She noticed Dean was looking past her, into her apartment. She closed the door a little and tried to focus the attention on her, an action she immediately regretted. She didn't want them to see inside her apartment, thinking her bizarre that she kept her living room so dark. But now they could only see her, and she could already feel Dean staring at her with suspicion. Maybe he knew about the grotesque appearance she was hiding behind the door. She gripped the door handle a little tighter as her breath grew shallow once more. Sam didn't, or at least pretended he didn't, notice this and attempted to put on an easier demeanor as if to put her at ease.
"We're reporters with an out-of-town newspaper." Sam told her, motioning calmly to his partner as he spoke. "We had some questions about the recent murders in town. We were wondering if we could come in and…."
"N-no!" She quickly responded, interrupting Sam as he spoke. She felt her stomach drop as Sam looked taken back by the sudden answer. Why had she interrupted him? She should have waited until he was done. Now he's going to think she was rude in addition to being weird and hideous. But she didn't want them to see inside her apartment. They couldn't see her or her home. She didn't think she could live with the looks that would come with them. "Y-you can't c-come in." Raven swallowed hard once more as she prepared for the looks they would give her.
"Um, okay." The reporters exchanged an odd look between themselves before turning back to her. Once they were sure she wasn't going to disappear back into her home, they continued. "Well, we heard that Mr. Cartefield ran errands for you from your landlord. Things like buying groceries and stuff like that." She nodded, confirming what they had been told. She remembered when she had seen the news reports as people started dying again.
"We were just wondering if Jason seemed uneasy about something or was acting strangely. Maybe he mentioned something unusual that's been happening to him, being stalked or seeing things he shouldn't?" Dean quickly took up, taking up where Sam had left off. She thought about telling them for a quick moment, letting them know the truth behind what was happening before she realized that they wouldn't believe. He would look at her with a look of skepticism when she told him, then it would slowly turn to a mocking look as he thought her babbling was nothing more than the nonsense and superstitions of a crazy woman. Maybe it was. She always let her imagination get the better of her at time. So, she shook her head, pretending that what she saw at night was nothing more than a product of her imagination. Oddly enough, however, they didn't seem satisfied with the answer she gave.
"Are you sure? If there's anything at all, don't be afraid to tell us. Even if it sounds crazy, like something that couldn't possibly exist." Sam assured her as they looked at her with determined eyes. They didn't trust her. They knew she hadn't told them the truth and now they thought she was nothing more than a liar. An abomination and a liar. But she didn't want them to think she was crazy, one that needed to be locked up in an asylum for her own safety. She bit her lip as she struggled with what to do, her pounding heart making it hard to focus as it hit her ribs painfully. She was unaware of the uncomfortable sound she made in the back of her throat as she struggled, one loud enough to cause Dean and Sam to raise one eye.
She turned and looked at a picture she had tacked to the wall earlier this week, in the middle of the other scribblings she had done. It was of one the people she kept seeing outside of her apartment, the one who would always come back and stand there, waiting for her to leave. Dragging a finger through the air and trying to entice her to leave, unable to forcibly drag her out. Like lioness waiting for the gazelle to walk into its trap, ready to sink its teeth in at any moment. She couldn't tell them anything. She would get them hurt or killed. The last person who tried to help her got hurt.
She shook her head once more, with enough ferocity that she hoped they would understand. Then, without waiting for their answer, she quickly slammed the door and relocked her door. She hoped that it was enough for them, quietly praying that they wouldn't knock on her door again and wait for her to answer. She shrunk back in her living room, waiting near the furthest couch, bending low and hiding behind the armrest of her couch, waiting for the inevitable knock. Waited for them to demand for more information and telling her that they knew she was lying. But thankfully, it never came. She heard their voices start talking, getting fainter and fainter with each moment as they grew more distant from her door. The further the voices got, the slower her heart beat and her shaking hands began to calm.
She eventually inched her way back to the window, lifting the corner carefully to check on them. They weren't gone completely, having stepped away from the door and were talking just out of her hearing distance. From where she sat, she could see them locked in a quick debate, motioning towards her apartment, obviously the topic of their conversation. They knew she was lying, how wouldn't they? She was lying to them after all, and she was never any good at lying. She let the curtain go and sighed, stepping back from the window and sitting on her couch. That's when Raven noticed the salt line by her door had been smudged, leaving a tiny opening in front of her.
As swiftly as her body would allow, she grabbed the salt container from her kitchen and fixed the salt line, hoping that the few moments when she had taken hadn't allowed anything to get in. She always screwed up like this.
Well, there was my first chapter! What did you think? For the record, what I am going for with Raven is General Dissociative Personality Disorder mixed with horrible anxiety. Its supposed to be very severe. Hopefully I am doing this right and not insulting anyone.
I'll be honest right now. I don't have the story finished, but I have it plotted out fairly far. I want to more or less test the general reaction to this story before I commit too heavily to writing it. Another reason is so that it is easily subject to change should something happen.
As a little sidenote, I have only one pairing currently planned at the moment, but that is purely between two OCs. If you think that a certain pairing should happen later on in the story, have no qualms with shooting me a suggestion and I'll consider it.