I woke up, but refused to open my eyes. It was one of those times when you felt like just staying in bed, and wanted to will yourself back to sleep. Then I realized that I was not in my usual bed. This one was harder, and it smelled damper.
I forced open my eyes to see that I was in a bedroom. There were several bookshelves, lined with books. There was also a table by the window, with two chairs. The whole room had a vintage feel to it, a bit old and stuck in time.
I sat up and instantly regretted it when I felt my head pounding in pain. I reached up to touch the side of my right temple to feel gauze secured over some sort of wound or scratch. Now that I was feeling more awake, I realized that I had hit my head the night before. I had also seen some sort of shadow monster or something. Wait, what?
I put my feet on the floor, and trying to jostle my head as little as possible, I reached for the handle to leave this room. I was still dressed in the same clothes I had on last night. It was the same floral dress with grey cable knit tights, but my jacket was no where to be found. What happened?
I opened the door and peeked out to see a hallway. It was a bit dark, and smelled just as musty as the bedroom. I decided that I might as well get a grasp of where I am and see if I could get some answers.
I went down the hallway, which led me to the kitchen and living room.
That was where I found three guys sitting around a coffee table, with a laptop propped open. They were talking about something on the computer, but all stopped when they noticed me. It then turned silent.
"Okay, where the hell am I?" I asked, hoping that I sounded braver than I felt. It was creepy, and for all I knew, I was in some sort of hostage situation. For what reason? No clue. But the theories and possibilites popping around my head were endless.
"Well good morning to you to miss sunshine," one of the men said. "Except it is more like night now, I guess."
"No, I'm serious. I don't know who you guys are, or what you want, but I will call the cops on you if someone doesn't start explaning."
"Yeah? You and what phone?" the same guy asked.
Shit. Where was my bag? That was when one of them got up, passed by a coat rack to grab my bag, and handed it to me.
"Thanks..." I said, hesitantly. "No problem. Name's Sam. Sam Winchester." The guy said. "That there is Dean, my brother, and him there in the trench coat is Cas."
"I'm Dori," I said, reaching into my bag, and reached around inside for my knife. I kept my hand in there, firmly grasping the handle of the only weapon I had.
"Hey, you've got in a knife in there. We know." Sam said, arms held up in the air: the universal sign of meaning no harm. "We're not here to hurt you. Quite the opposite actually. We've got a few questions of our own, if you don't mind."
The man called Dean cut straight to the point. "Why exactly was a daeva trying to kill you?" He was looking up at me, an eyebrow raised.
"What's a daeva?" I asked.
"The shadow thing?-Oh come on, how many other things have tried to kill you recently?" Dean said, rolling his eyes in impatience.
This guy was really getting on my nerves.
"I don't know! If I was expecting something to kill me, don't you think I would have been a little more prepared?" I asked incredulously. A pang of pain jolted through my head as I was getting riled up, and I winced. Sam had now sat back down. But opening my eyes after that flash of pain, the guy called Cas was suddenly directly in front of me. He reached out to brush my hair away from the gauze, giving it a check.
"Get away from me," I snapped, brushing his hand away. "Hey guys," Sam said in an urget tone, getting all of our attention. "You may want to check out the window."
