AN: Hi guys! Sorry about the lateness, school has just started to get quite intense, and so I'll have to cut back on the swiftness of my uploading – sorry! It will probably eventually come down to once or twice a week – unfortunately that's just how it is L But thank you for the reviews! It just makes my day and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story J
Xxx
~Fen~
Chapter Two:
As soon as Athaya had left Crowley's company, that was when her real work started. She went south, making her way across Canada until she came to Washington State. That was when she got into some trouble.
It hadn't been her fault that she'd felt the man was in danger. She hadn't meant to draw any attention to herself, but what she'd done instead…was save his life.
His name had been Kenny, and he'd insisted on repaying Athaya for saving him from the colossal branch that had come plummeting towards him after a bout of strong wind. He'd been so grateful, and Athaya couldn't bring herself to say 'no' when he offered her a place to stay. After all, he'd gotten out of hospital with only a fractured wrist because Athaya had flung herself at him.
Athaya herself had been slightly worse off, with a broken arm and fractured rib. So needless to say, Kenny had been very adamant that he repay her for putting her own life at risk.
Kenny had been a middle-aged man when she met him, with a sun-freckled face and a square jaw. To this day, when Athaya saw anyone with orange hair, she was instantly reminded of him.
He had given her a place to stay as she travelled through Seattle, and after saying she wasn't really sure where she was going, Kenny decided to offer her permanent lodging. His daughter and wife had died when the girl was young, leaving Kenny widowed at the age of thirty-eight. For three years he'd been alone, but he'd done a lot.
Hunting monsters for one.
Athaya had accidently stumbled upon his guns after two months of living with him. He'd disappear for days at a time, claiming he was on a 'business trip,' but whenever Athaya asked about them, his answers were vague and lacking in any proper detail. Kenny was a kind man, but strict about not going into his study. However, despite his warnings, one day Athaya felt that she had to go in there, or she'd miss out on something important. Something that would change her life. And then she found a whole lot more than she bargained for. She'd found a folder containing all his notes and the room contained hundreds of other weapons she never heard of.
And that was how Athaya found out that a werewolf killed Kenny's family, and that he'd hunted for years for the beast, taking him down a path he'd never turn back from. A week later, she told him about her discovery and her special ability to feel things. Kenny had been surprised to say the least, but from that moment on, Athaya had begun training; learning everything she could about the monsters she'd been told stories about since she was a girl.
She'd promised Crowley she'd stay clear of the creatures, but since she was labelled as 'hands off', she used that to her advantage, realising at an early age that monsters were less eager to kill her when they knew someone high up was looking out for her. It usually never lasted for long, not when they discovered she was actually able to kill them, but more often than not, it bought her some valuable time.
When Athaya was eighteen, Kenny had taken her out on her first hunt for a spirit haunting a highway one state over. Athaya had been thrilled when the spirit moved on after an intense twelve hours of searching for an unmarked grave. That had been an easy one.
She eventually left after another few years of helping out, when Kenny finally took on a case too hard. A nest of vamps had proven to be too much for the man, and afterwards, he retired with a gimpy leg, wounded, but still eager to teach Athaya everything he knew.
She loved Kenny like a dad, and was glad he'd helped her out back then. Now she hunted solo, occasionally stopping off back at Seattle when she could, or calling him up for advice when she needed a hand. He was a quirky guy, and always had stories to tell her whenever she felt inclined to listen.
Now she was at a bar in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, hunting the vengeful spirit of Charlotte Sanders, a prostitute that had been murdered in the 1920's, back when the bar had been a brothel. Athaya was actually surprised that there weren't more spirits in the building, considering its shady background, but it appeared that there was only Charlotte.
She was constantly aware that Azazel could come for her at any moment, but she ignored that most days, taking Crowley's advice and living her life the best she could. Occasionally, it would get her down, but what could she do? She knew how to kill demons now, so that was a small advantage. And hopefully he still thought she was dead.
It was Crowley who had first suggested she try to figure out how to hunt demons, but his words had been in jest, saying she looked far too fragile. Well. She'd done a pretty good job so far.
In eight years, Athaya had grown a further two inches, making her five foot ten. She towered over several of her co-workers at the bar, but didn't mind. She liked being tall. And just because she was eight years older didn't mean she was any more mature. Now, she was just a teenager with experience.
As Athaya brought the orders back to the kitchen, she took the time to observe all the people in the building. Right now, they were all at risk from Charlotte. Couples, families, friends. She even felt concern for the slime ball from the other day. It wouldn't do to see any of them die.
She'd just have to kill the thing before it did any more damage.
The ghost's profile was killing girls every seven years. Like clockwork, after seven years, a young female in the bar would drop dead, stabbed by an invisible knife. That didn't mean she would leave other people alone if they got in the way, but it meant Athaya could keep a closer eye out on girls at risk. Athaya guessed Charlotte had been killed by a fellow prostitute, because that would explain her fixation with knocking off young women. Whatever the case, she had to be stopped.
It was after her shift that Athaya's real work began. At 10 o'clock, she signed out, exiting through the kitchen door and making her way to the back one. Then she slipped inside and started going through the rooms, searching for any items that could have been left behind. Her excuse was that she worked there, and was just searching for the bathroom.
Charlotte had been cremated, so it must have been an item of some sort – left behind from the 20's – that she was still connected to. Athaya had been working at the bar for almost a week now, and in that time, she'd gone through half of the many rooms out the back, used as storage and private areas. She'd come up with nothing.
She sighed as she pulled yet another box down from a shelf and started sorting through it. More often than not, she'd find something that could have belonged to the dead hooker, but it would be a fake, or just another piece of worthless junk. It was like when the owners of the bar had bought the place, they hadn't bothered to clean it out, opting instead to shove half of the boxes into already overstuffed rooms to make space for more storage.
It was a boring, taxing procedure, and at 2am, Athaya finally called it a day, driving her car to the nearby motel, where she was crashing while she was in town. Athaya's beautiful steel grey '67 Mustang Reactor was a car to be reckoned with. She loved her car. It was a work of art. She'd spent a small fortune tracking it down and buying it, but it was well worth the money. She figured, what the heck? If she was going to hell anyways, might as well do it in style.
When she pulled into the parking lot, she didn't notice anything amiss, and unlocked the door to her room, closing it behind her with a gentle thud. She glanced at the clock. 2:49am.
Great. Athaya had a whole two and half hours sleep until she needed to be back at work.
It was good being a hunter.
