I'm sorry. I couldn't resist the idea. I came across a Tumblr post with a prompt thing on it and I just, you know, I had that urge to write it. I just couldn't pass it up. I'm also thinking that this story is where I'll see what I can really do with my writing skills, if you know what I mean. . ;). I stopped working on The Expedition to write this first chapter, so. . Forgive me! Plus it's almost three in the morning so I'll probably go from writing fics to reading them here in a bit. :)
Anyways, enjoy!
"If you try to run, I've got six little friends and they can all run faster than you can." — From Dusk Til Dawn
SUPERNATURAL
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, if anyone moves," Castiel Novak said, a coy smile on his face, "two get a bullet to the brain. Am I understood?" He glanced around the room to watch his hostage's heads nod, all their eyes filled with fear. Some looked agitated, some depressed, and some worried, but the vast majority of them were afraid. Most people would never even consider doing what he was doing right then, or what he had been doing for a long while now, but it brought a smile to his face. It disgusts them how much joy it brings him, but to be honest, Castiel doesn't give a damn.
He walked up to the bank's counter where a lady was filling a bag, her hands shaking like a little kid in the cold. He rested his elbow on the top and rested his head in his hand, his other arm draped across the surface, the gun pointed at the lady's head. Castiel wasn't normally one for robberies, he was more of a 'kill the toad and hit the road' kind of guy. He went from state to state, leaving a trail of house and apartment murders in his wake. While he traveled, he had a plan bubbling in his mind; a massacre. There was a popular arcade down in Oklahoma he had his eye on. But, in order for that to happen, he needed to make a robbery pit stop. He needed money again.
Castiel smiled sweetly at the woman, knocking his fingers in rhythm against his cheek as she continued to fill his sack with numerous Benjamin Franklins. He lifted his gun in front of his face so he could study it for a moment, and sighed. "You know," he said, and the woman jerked her head up to stare at him. "I don't have all day. I wish I did, I really do, because there are other ways I can think of on how I could spend my time before I have to leave," he looked at the frightened face of the girl over the top of his gun and winked at her, which earned him a whimper and pulled a low chuckle from Castiel. "But, I really do need to be going soon. I can guess you pulled some alarm that I don't know about and the cops are on their way. And I really don't have time to deal with them today."
The woman stared at him for a moment longer, then said with a shaky voice, almost as shaky as her hands, "I don't know what you mean."
Castiel scoffed. "Oh, don't you? Then go ahead and lift up that bobble head for me, will you?"
The woman swallowed thickly.
"Go on, if there's nothing there, you won't be afraid to show me what's under it," he watched her closely as she reached a trembling hand to lift up the toy, and once she did, there it was. A little red button, with the words Emergency Alarm written in tiny white letters around the edge. Castiel smirked and looked at the woman, very amused. "Tsk tsk tsk," he said, "we shouldn't lie to a person when he's holding a gun to your head." He pulled the safety back and leveled the barrel to the center of the woman's head. "Now, fill it." He barked. "And fast."
He watched while the woman filled the sack, twice as fast as before, but he whirled around when he heard a pair of shoes scuff the floor. "Now, now," he called, and the boy, about sixteen years old, froze in his tracks. "Turn around, let me have a look at you." Castiel said as he made his was over in an agonizing slow pace. The boy slowly turned around, his hazel eyes wide. Castiel was a few inches taller than the boy, so he had to crane his head slightly to look at the man with the gun. "What's your name, kid?" Castiel asked.
"I. . . Um. . . It's, Gadreel?" He said, his voice was almost a whisper.
He nodded. "Gadreel. I knew a Gadreel back in the day. But a couple years ago he started to get very annoying, so I knocked him in the head with a shovel. Let me tell you, the look on his face. . ." Castiel started laughing, recalling the image in his mind. The boy, Gadreel, just looked at him with shock, and utter fear. Castiel could tell he was freaking out in his mind, so he just smirked at the boy.
"You're brave, kid, trying to get out like that. After I said stay put. You got anyone in here with you?"
"I. . Just my, um, girlfriend, Hailey."
"Aw, that's sweet. Go get her, bring her over here."
"Wait, what?"
"Just do it." He sneered. Gadreel scrambled off to find his girl and pulled her off the floor, then lead her shaking form over to Castiel with a protective arm around her waist, and one around her shoulders. "Oh, this is just adorable!" He said. He turned to the other hostages. "Aren't they just adorable?" He asked them, to no in particular. When he looked back to Gardreel and his girlfriend, Hailey, he was grinning. He looked back and forth between them a few times before he demanded, "Step away from him, Hailey." She went even more wide eyed and looked over at her boyfriend in panic.
"It's okay, Hailey. We'll be fine. Everything will be okay." He told her. Castiel had to try not to laugh at how obvious his doubt was. He kissed the top of her head and gently shoved her away. They were six feet apart before Castiel spoke again. The grin on his face disappeared a little at a time, until he was looking at them both without a trace of emotion. He looked down at the gun in his hand, and ran his thumb over the writing on the side of the barrel, not looking at them as he spoke.
"Now, Gadreel, what did I say earlier about moving around?" He looked at Gadreel, his head still tilted down. He opened and closed his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked at Hailey, worried out of his mind, then looked back at Castiel and swallowed a lump that wasn't really there. He shut his eyes as if it was just dawning on him that Castiel had said something just a while earlier. He could tell Gadreel knew what was about to happen, because at that very moment, he stood up a little straighter and raised his head, and looked him in the eyes as he spoke to him, although his voice was still shaky. Castiel knew very well there was nothing Gadreel could do about that.
"You said. . . You said if anyone moves, that two. . . Two people would be. . . Shot." He finished, and Hailey wailed. They both looked on the verge of tears. Ugh, Catiel hated when hostages cried. So he usually shot or stabbed the ones that did. But these two people wouldn't be a problem much longer.
"I did. And why didn't you listen?" Castiel asked him, as if he actually wondered why.
Gadreel's tongue darted out and back in nervously before he responded. "Because I thought. . I. . I thought I could be quiet enough to get out and. . Get help." The corners of Castiel's lips turned up slightly, but went down just as quickly.
"Well, you thought wrong. And now you have to face my consequences." He pulled back the safety and aimed the gun at Hailey's chest, and pulled the trigger. It hit her, and with a yelp she fell to the ground, a pool of blood already forming on the floor around her.
"Hailey!" Gadreel cried, and stumbled over to her, falling onto the floor to cradle her head as her breathing hitched. He was muttering things like "No, no.." Or "Just hold on, baby, you're going to be fine.." But just a couple minutes if this was all she could take, and the life left her eyes and her hand went limp in Gadreel's. When he looked up at Castiel, there were tears trailing down his face.
"I told you," Castiel said quietly, "you have to face the consequences of disobeying. I'm sorry, but that's how the world works. It was nice meeting you, Gadreel." He lifted this gun to point at the sixteen year old's head, and pulled the trigger. He fell over next to his dead girlfriend, and everyone in the room just stared as the white tile floor slowly turned red. He looked around at all of their stunned, frightened faces and added, "anyone else want to try leaving without my consent?" He immediately got head shakes from everyone. "Good."
"Um, sir? That's all the money we have. I swear it." Castiel whirled around to see his sack, filled to the brim with money, resting atop the counter with a very freaked out woman behind it. He strode over and snatched it off the counter and flashed the woman a smile.
"Thank you, lovely. At least you listened to me. I suppose I should give you something in return. . " He pointed the gun at her leg and the gun went off. She fell to the ground with a shriek, grabbing her thigh with both hands. She looked up at Castiel with tears in her wide, bloodshot eyes. "I'll let you live." He turned away from her and ran off to the back of the bank, leaving the way he came. And just as he escaped, a S.W.A.T. team plowed through the door, only to find about a dozen hostages, a crying woman behind the counter with a gunshot wound, and two dead bodies laying in the middle of the floor.
SUPERNATURAL
"As you can see, the situation is severe. Sheriff Jody Mills has called for a S.W.A.T. team to come in before they make any moves on the building and the criminal inside. We have been informed that there may have been gunshots within the bank's walls, so stay tuned for further details. Until then, here is an image of the robber's face."
A photo of a man flashed on the screen. Mildly short, curly brown hair and vibrant blue eyes that could catch just about anyone's attention. He dressed as a normal businessman in all his news photos. Tan trench coat, navy blue suit and pants, shiny black dress shoes, white shirt and a blue tie. His name was Castiel Novak, and was 5'11, just a couple inches shorter than himself.
He looked the same every time Dean Winchester saw him on the news. Which was quite often, in fact. He found himself mentioned on some programs along side this trench coated man, both labeled as "extremely violent and dangerous serial killers". They were both wanted for just about the same things. Murder. Robberies. Assault. Sexual Harassment. Except Dean got upset with that charge, because as far as he was concerned he never sexually harassed anyone. And not to protect anyone here, but neither had that Castiel guy, for all he knew.
The corners of Dean's mouth quirked up as the news program turned back on. The S.W.A.T. team had arrived, and were about to burst into the building. He watched with amusement as the police officers, S.W.A.T., reporters and civilians ran around, and some of them looked completely lost, which added to Dean's amusement. He smirked once they finally stormed into the bank, slightly shaking his head. "This guy is such an amateur," he mumbled. "I could have been in and out of there in ten minutes time."
He continued to watch as they camera caught view of two dead bodies on the floor inside the bank, surrounded in a dark pool of blood. Dean raised his eyebrows, just barley, and nodded with tiny little movements. "Not bad for a newbie." He said to himself. At that moment, his brother, Sam, walked in the room and caught a look at the television.
"What are you watching, Dean?" He asked, and Dean shrugged while picking up the remote off of the table.
"Just watching another live footage news report on that Castiel guy." He clicked off the twenty inch flat screen on the wall and turned to his brother. "He's on the other end of the state robbing Westside Bank."
"Oh? Did you get anything new on him?" Sam asked as he made himself a cup of coffee.
"Nah, not really." Dean sighed. "He's gotten a little better at robbing banks, but that's about it. The camera crew caught sight of two dead bodies in the middle of the floor. He usually only shoots them to injure. Now he's moved on to actually killing them when he needs money. I'm a bit impressed with the guy."
Sam laughed and shook his head, coming to take the seat across from his brother. "Dean, come on. We know he's not stupid, we can tell he knows what he's doing. And to make him seem better, he does it all alone."
"This is true," Dean agreed. "I am impressed that he can do it all by himself, I have you for security camera and house, or apartment alarm issues, whereas he doesn't. I will admit that. But he still takes about three times as long as I do, he doesn't kill as much, which makes him seem a bit soft to me. But, he's never been caught and he gets the job done." He looked at Sam expecting him to make another remark, but he kept looking at Dean and said nothing, waiting for him to finish because he could tell he wasn't finished yet. "All I'm saying is, until he can master those aspects, he's still an amateur."
Dean pushed back from the table and grabbed a beer from the fridge, then started to walk towards the back of the house they were in.
"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asked as Dean opened the door to the left of the garage door. Dean turned around, half in the room and half in the hall, then looked at his brother. Sam saw something behind his brother's eyes that told him he was putting together a new plan. "Dean," he repeated, "what are you doing?"
He cracked a mischievous smile as he responded. "I'm going to teach a beginner how it's really done." He winked at his brother and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned and faced what was behind, and his grin grew even wider.
A variety of tools and playthings line the walls and shelves of the room. There was a crate of sacks for needed robberies in one corner, and the rest of it was a selection of guns, knives, a few machetes, ropes, duct tape, a box of grenades, which he had used quite often lately, and other little nifty things Dean liked to use on occasion.
He wondered how the guy got out. Unless he was captured, then he had a death sentence hanging over his head for sure. But if he did escape, Dean wondered how. Maybe he actually did have an accomplice, like Dean did, but just never saw him, just like no one ever saw Sam. They think it's all him. But he doubted that. He was too focused on how he did things, that was obvious. How sloppy his work was, well, at least it was sloppy to Dean, proved that.
Although, he did have to admit, the guy wasn't bad. He'd seen much, much worse. He started seeing Castiel on the news about five months ago, and at first he never really paid attention to him. Just another idiot trying to make his life interesting. But this guy had some skill. Not nearly as skilled as himself, but he had it nevertheless. He'll give him some credit. But one other thought had been on his mind lately - Had Castiel been paying attention to him, too?
Now, Dean knew if he really wanted this guy's attention, he had to make this good. He had a few ideas up his sleeve. Some ideas he had would most definitely scare the shit out of a normal person. Literally. But they were appealing to Dean, and that's all he cared about. He liked scaring the shit out of people. One time he actually scared a guy to death. He had taken the time to actually research the family, and learned they were all huge fans of the whole Nightmare On Elm Street and Freddy Krueger thing.
So he made himself look like Freddy himself and did that whole job like it had been done in the movies, with the exception of their dad dying of fear. He was pretty proud of that night.
Dean walked around and picked out a couple different guns, several knives, a good sized machete, a rope and duct tape, and some chloroform, and shoved it all into a sports duffel, and went back the way he came so he could get to his car, or rather, his baby, as he called it.
He closed and locked the door once he was back in the hall and turned to his brother, who was still at the table, on his laptop. He looked up as Dean pulled the garage door ajar, and raised an eyebrow. "I'm heading out, Sam. Keep your phone ready, I'll let you know when I need you." He wiggled his own eyebrows at his brother, who rolled his eyes in response as he shut the door and went to his car, a nineteen sixty-seven Chevy Impala. He put the duffel bag in the trunk and walked to the driver's side, placing a hand on the hood and sighing contently.
"Alright, baby," he said, smiling at his car. "Time to get rolling again. Let's go show the amateur how it's done."
SUPERNATURAL
AN:
So, what do you guys think? Good so far? Continue or no? Please leave a review and let me know! Thanks for reading!
