A.N: This is the first installment of what's going to be a continuous story (lasting about 10 - 20 chapters). It takes place during Season 4 in a somewhat AU world where hunters reacted a little differently to the idea of the Apocalypse coming to pass and how they were going to deal with it. You'll find many characters and scenario's are different from the show - but ultimately - I try to keep them close to character. So please enjoy and review! I'm very much interested in readers feelings and hopefully interest in the novel.
I obviously do not own Supernatural.
PROLOGUE;
"Hunting's not hard. Really it's just a whole lot'a trial an' error. If the Winchester boy's can do it, anyone can. Hell – I'm not gonna' deny they turned into some well-an-good hunters, but without John's knowledge; those two'd have been dead in the water long before they stumbled across me. They didn't know how to put John's theory into practice – so they tried and they tried some more. Just like I said; trial an' error all the way through." Bobby's lips pulled tight together, the shadow from the poorly lit room crossing just under the brim of his hat and ensuring that his eyes were barely visible. "The hard part of huntin' is the aftermath. Dealin' with all the crap you could've done – the people you let down and whatnot." A deep breath was drawn in and immediately expelled through his mouth; parting from it's tightly pulled form.
"That's what breaks people. That's what singles out the good hunters from the hunters who just can't. That's not sayin' their bad people or anythin'; rather the opposite. Good people can't hunt. Hunters are just bad, crazy-ass people on a good, decent mission." Bobby spoke, his voice drawing more soft though stern nonetheless. Clearing his throat, Bobby adjusted himself in his seat and his eyes panned out across the top of the peering young eyes sitting before him in the church-like setup of the hall.
"That's why we started this place. This school. To pick out the good from the bad with a sane mission. We need hunters – and God knows this isn't somethin' I wanted to do – but if we wanna' outlast this damn Apocalypse; we need new blood. You are it ladies and gents." Mr. Singer's eyes tracked along the crowd some more. "Trial an' error's no longer gonna' do. You boys and girl's need'a be trained how to put theory to practice – and that's exactly what we're gonna' do here."
"Welcome to Venator Collegium."