ENJOY REVIEW!
"Samantha..."
"Samantha..."
"Sammy..."
Groaning as she arouses from her slumber, she sits up from her position and finds herself on a porch swing located on the back porch of a cottage. There was a grill and lounge chairs and sparing sticks sitting in a basket along with the other training equipment her dad had when they trained outside. She spotted the lights from town, the woodsy area that covered enough distance to run around, the late afternoon breeze, the smell of pastries wafting from the opened porch door...
This was Grandma Dinah's house.
"Dad?" she says, as she takes in the homely sight around her, "how long have I been asleep?"
"Awhile," he says with a smile, then gestures towards the swing. "May I?"
She nods, scooting over for her giant of a father could take a seat. She giggles as the swing dip at her father's weight.
"You okay? You've been asleep since you got here?" he asks worriedly, lifting his hand to wipe a strand of hair from her face.
"I'm fine, just a bad dream..." she trails as she looked out at the distance.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"I don't know? Should I?" she turns to her dad and smirks.
"Maybe I can help," he offers, swinging his long legs to get the swing in motion, "I know there's not much I wouldn't tell you."
"So if I asked you to tell me how mom convinced you to take salsa dancing lessons?"
"You have better luck asking me to recite the Bible word for word with my eyes clothes!" he seriously replies, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from her. "I should have never shown you that video..."
Samantha couldn't help but elbow him and retort, "You were the one who threw it out there that you and Mom had your wedding for free!"
"Uh, yeah," he snorts, pushing his hair back, "and I also mentioned that it was an unsaid thank you for saving my old college buddy from getting sacrificed on his wedding night! I swear, when your mother called his fiancee a '"real witch"', I thought she was joking!"
"At least you had cake and a wedding video," she quips. "Watching the groom who supposedly is left at the alter pull up his best mate and his new wife to the offer and tells everyone that since he won't get married, '"How about I get Sammy Boy here and his blushing bride into a suit and tie, huh? Oh, and Abigail left her dresses behind, so wifey can get in them too! I always thought it was unfair how I was getting married yet you settled for a simple marriage license and trip to Vegas! Now, I'm still a bachelor, you can have your wedding, and all's right with the world!"'"
The ridiculous imitation causes Sam Wesson to roar with laughter before his daughter joins him.
"I still can't believe you even pulled a Patrick Swayze and jumped from that stage!"
"Hey, she was the one who convinced the DJ to play '"Let's Get Loud"'! Your mom decided to embrace her inner Baby and make me look foolish on the dance floor! I had to upstage her!"
"And then you just had to finish off with the lift!" she exclaims with a smile.
"She was lucky I loved her," he expresses, though his smile lessens. Samantha glances at the hint of longingness.
"Do you think she's proud of us?" she asks, "With Emma and Ben? Jesse and Jacob? With you and Uncle D?"
Sam huffs and leans back, outstretching his arm and bringing her into a hug. Her dad always gives the best hugs!
They sat there in silence and take in the sounds of the distant streets and each other's presence. It got better over the years to talk about Mari Gold, even without the weight of her death clouding over them. But pictures and videos were nothing compared to the oral narratives from her father.
"Sometimes, I like to think you all wouldn't be motherless children if she'd been around," he admits."That she could have saved their moms or convinced them to risk leaving with us. I imagine she and Lisa would have ganged up on Ben and then fussed over him. She and Lydia treating you and Emma to spa days, shopping, and all that other stuff she talked about doing with you. I imagine her treating Jesse like her nephew and relocating his family so he had a stable childhood. And I imagine her helping Amy grieve and move on from Jacob's death. Frankly, I can see her doing everything she could to keep something from your pasts alive where I failed."
Samantha looks at him earnestly. "Dad, that wasn't your fault! You kept Jacob safe! His body was failing him! The only thing alternative would have been hooking him up to machines and he still would have died! You kept your promise! And you did the same for Lydia and Lisa! And Jesse, well, he just followed you home."
"I thought that was Ben?" he questions, tilting his head.
"If it wasn't for the bloodlust, you would have found someone to take him in, though he probably would have left and found you anyways," she guesses. Losing Lisa made Ben feel lost, so it was only fair in the end that her dad took him in. Maybe Karma or Fate is real and believed Sam deserved a second chance after Jacob.
"What about you?"
This time, Samantha is the one tilting her head. "What about me?"
"I failed you too when your mother died," he says regretfully.
"I was 1," she says logically, "up until recently, I could say I was the only one not affected by her death as much as the others."
"I was drunk and angry."
"And you had the right."
"I neglected you and lost you to the cluster."
"I like to see it as familial intervention."
"I pulled a gun on them!"
"They still let you visit me!" she argues. "No one would ever be okay if their whole world just burned down in an entire day! People are entitled to their grief, even if it does come off self-destructive. But the main thing is that you came back from it. You picked up the pieces and became the person I'm proud of. Mom might've wrung your head for the gun incident, but from the way I hear it, if you had died, she wouldn't have been able to recover. She mated with you for life! She understood the risks! You were it for her, so I think she would have approved you finding happiness without her. And now, all we have left of her is memories and photographs."
"How does the line go? '"We keep this love in a photograph''?" he muses.
She scoffs, "I think that more under the romantic context."
"Doesn't make it any more true," he counters, "No matter where you go, I'll always be with you."
"Even if I'm all the across the country?" she asks tentatively. "Even if I'm on the other side of the world?"
"Nothing would stop me from being by your side," he assures.
"But what if...What if God decided he wanted me gone and I had to flee to another universe where you couldn't follow?" she suddenly asks.
There was a stark silence that filled between them and it made Samantha uneasy. Her entire life was surrounded by the supernatural, which was a type of normal she was used to, but if life didn't always go as planned? Well, it scares her.
But after much deliberation, her dad spoke up.
"Then I will fight like hell until I make this place world safe for you to come home," he promises. "And I will pray that should you come across another version of me, that he cares for you until then."
"..."
She stays silent, contemplating her next words carefully before raising her last question, "And what if he couldn't be trusted."
She looked up to see the determined look in her father's eyes and it help her like an invisible cord, unyielding. He slowly bowed his head until her forehead pressed against his.
"Then I trust you to do everything you can to survive until we meet again..."
"Ah!" Samatha yelps, startled from her dream, as the bus hits another lump in the road. She looks around to see Emma fast asleep next to her while Ben sat in the seat across from them, before sighing and laying her head against the window as the cars passed by.
If the siblings had to, they'd admit they passed out the first thirty minutes of the bus ride. It was in the middle of the night, they'd just landed in a whole new world missing half of the important stuff they needed and their brother was missing. Add in the anxiety and that adds to one three exhausted supernaturals.
It's been hours since they left Missouri and she wasn't even sure if they left the state boundary yet. They were low on the important stuff and the sooner they can get a handle on the situation.
And maybe find Jesse.
"Emma," she nudges her sister, "Emma, wake up."
The Amazon woke up after a few minutes and looked around before she reaches out to her right and smacks Ben upside the head, causing him to jolt out of his seat and damn near pull out his knife! He looked to his left to see the tired yet smug look on Emma's face.
"One of these days, I'm gonna gut you!" he whispers under his breath, annoyed before he puts his knife away.
"And yet, I'm still fast than you!" she retorts, still smug.
"And I have enough magic to take you both out, so shut it!" Samantha interjects as she pulled out her map from her bookbag.
Emma raises an eyebrow. "Did you get that from the bus station?"
"Yes, I'm not even going to waste my time trying to get wifi on here," she answered as she owned a giant map. Ben moved to sit behind them and stand overhead as Emma helped her straighten the map.
"Alright, it's been three hours since we left the station, so it's fair to say we might be in the clear," Samantha explains, her finger trailing the roads on the map, "and we are heading to stop in Iowa. Honestly, the farther we are, the better, but I think we can regroup, find a New Age shop or botanical garden, and get my hands on another map bring Jesse's ass back to us!"
"You don't have money and you already committed fraud getting us on the bus in the first place," Emma inquires.
"Well, I don't want to use the money Missouri gave us so soon," Ben points out. Right before they let sleep take them, Ben opened the Bible Missouri gave them to see a stack of twenties hidden inside. No doubt emergency money, but the fact she gave it to them at all saves them one less problem, though temporary.
"So let's do a headcount, what did Jess have on him that we're missing?" Emma asks before counting off. "Money, IDs, First Aid..."
"A radio, snacks, and the burner phones," Ben finished, "not to mention one of the main things Dad was eager to get his hands on was a mode of transportation. I highly doubt we wanna get an Impala."
"Yeah," Samantha agreed, "Baby will be sorely missed but I'll miss Uncle D washing her with holy water more."
Emma snorts. "I still can't believe you waited until the last minute to tell him you could smell the sex he had in the car. As a ride, can't say I blame him, but he was mortified!"
"Exactly why I did it!"
"If you weren't a Succubus, I'd call you a Troll," Ben quips. Samantha rolls her eyes.
"Bold words, Rose Hathaway."
"Sonofa-" Benn exclaims before glaring at his little sister, "why am I Rose!? Why can't I be Dmitri!?"
"Because you're not Russian," she empathizes, then her face turns into disgust, "and that implies that you're okay with being associated with a man who was the teacher and mentor being in a romantic relationship with a 17-year-old girl! I don't care how it started or the fact it was mutual or True Love, it's still disgusting!"
"And where was this attitude when Dad found out he was fucking his older brother?"
"Doesn't count!" she argues, "It was accidental at best and they didn't know each! Besides, they cut it out as soon as they found out!"
"I can't believe we all thought the awkwardness between them was because of a failed proposal," Emma mutters. She lost $30 in that bet!
"My point is you can either be a Rose or a Renesmee," Samantha concludes with a huff.
"Or you can be a Conner!" Emma suggests with a smile, "See! Look at us, already forming our fake identities!"
"If I'm Conner, what are you two?" Ben asks curiously.
"Diana," Emma announced quickly, "Diana...Thermopolis! Yes, Diana Thermopolis!"
Samantha points an accusing finger at her, "You just picked the first name that sounded like Mia from The Princess Diaries! The fact it's Wonder Woman's public name is a bonus!"
Emma innocently shrugs her shoulders. "I don't understand what you're talking about. So what's yours?"
"Samantha," the brunette says bluntly.
"Yeah, we kinda figured that," Ben teased, "I mean your fake name."
"Samantha Gold."
Hearing that from their youngest sibling's lips caused their jesting nature to stop. It was never really funny when anyone talked about Mari Gold. For three of the four siblings, she was a specter that haunted their dad's memories and to be fair, the silent reason behind them even being a family in the first place.
But when it comes to Samantha, the one she died for? Mari was everything to her. Maybe not as religiously worshipped like Mary Winchester with their uncle, but just as loved by the widow and daughter she left behind.
Or the father figure they left as well.
"Okay," Emma started, steering the tension away, "So, I'm Diana, Ben's Conner and you're Sam. All of us are unaccompanied minors who accidentally took the wrong bus and our parents are coming to get us! That's it, right? That's our cover story?"
"I'm in."
"All in."
"Alright, so what's next? We just keep bus-hopping or we get something to eat once we get to the station and lay low?"
Suddenly, Samantha perks her head up and gives her siblings a sly grin.
Oh boy, they thought. That was Samantha's signature idea look.
"What are you thinking?" Ben asks cautiously.
"Do you remember when Dad had to hunt that werewolf underground in that abandoned shopping district and found the..." she purposely trails off, "you know?"
"You know, what?" Emma pries.
"You know, the place where only a monster could fit in," Samantha speculated, hoping her siblings get the hint.
The line sits there for a moment before understanding finally flashes through their eyes.
"No way! It won't work!" Been argues.
"It might," Emma suggests.
"No way! Nuh-uh! Nope! Look how badly that ended before we left!" he exclaims. "Hell, it might not even exist here!"
"Technically, it was only towards the end! And come on, even our distant cousins need supplies without tipping off any hunters! Add that with the spell, it has to exist in this world too! They only betrayed us back then when it was Kill or Be Killed and we had a price on our head!" Samantha surmises, "Here, they don't know us! All we have to do is prove we are legit and can pay for our stuff without any problems! And it solves our problems! Eventually, you will need to feed, Ben! Those blood cartridges can only last so long! And Emma here's hoping the loophole Dad found for you work, but you need the coins too!"
Ben sat thrown and ran his hands down his face. Logically, Samantha was right. From what Missouri told them, this world and theirs were pretty close in line, minus a few insignificant (major) changes. His dad's cartridges could only last so long and Emma's powers might wane if they don't do something about it. Plus, if you needed fake IDs and other sorts when on the run, this was the place to go:
The supernatural black market, a hidden and consistently changing location where supernatural from all walks of life come together to form what's a flea market or a swap meet if one preferred. Dad had only hone there sparingly and the only reason he survived the first time was that a shapeshifter he once helped spoke up for him. So consider it a huge testament to his trust when it was his kids he mostly sent there!
They're screwed if this goes wrong.
Meanwhile...
Back at the Bunker...
Dean knew Missouri was lying to them. He just knew. He lies professionally after all.
But what he can't get: Why?
Granted, she was a grown woman and didn't have to tell him anything, but it couldn't shake the annoyance he felt.
Flashback...
"Hello boys," Missouri greeted with a smile as she welcomed the Winchesters into her home.
"Missouri Moseley," Dean greeted warmly with a smile, hugging her as he walked in.
"Hey, Missouri," Sam greeted along with him.
His eyes completely scanned over her living room. Boxes upon boxes were filled, though some were haphazardly placed together. A dustpan filled with glass and...
"Did you have company?" he asks, noticing the four pulled-out chairs in her dining room table.
"I did," she says, ushering them to sit down, "after the earthquake, a couple of neighbors came to check up on me."Now, I assume you're here to ask me if I sensed anything mighty peculiar about that quake?"
The brothers turned to each other. Of course, she knew.
"Uh, yeah," Sam starts, "so, did you feel something or see anything?"
"Tell me, boys," she starts, "what's life like in the Bunker? Lord knows after all those years on the road, you two deserve some type of home to call your own."
"It's great actually," Dean started, trying to keep the smile off his face. "It's home, even with everything we've been through."
Sam and Dean practically took turns narrating what happened over the year, albeit omitting a few things that she'll probably already know.
To be honest, it was quite relieving to explain for themselves all the damn drama from since he got back from Purgatory and damn the angels falling.
And he didn't know what was worse, retelling the story and hiding the fact that it was because of him that Sam - riddled with guilt and insecurities - nearly died in that damn church! Hopefully, she wasn't aware of the angel riding shotgun in Sam.
He unconsciously raised his eyes to look at her until they were struck by Missouri's knowing gaze. Crap, she knew!
"So from what I hear: Your friend, Castiel is human and Gone With the Wind, you have a Knight of Hell and demons after you, the King of Hell locked up in your basement and angels are on the march for your head as well," Missouri summarises.
"Yeah, that's about it," Dean admitted.
Missouri still kept her eyes locked on the eldest Winchester before she sighed. "And for that, I can't tell you what you wanna know."
"Missouri..." Sam pleads, but the psychic shuts him down.
"No," she finalizes, crossing her arms, "You boys have enough on your plate as it is and I'm not seeing you on some wild goose chase!"
"So they did have something to do with the earthquake!" Dean shot up, only to sit down under Missouri's withering glare.
"The only thing that happened with that earthquake is some lost souls trying to find their way," she defended. "They knew to come to me and I helped them on their way. And if you truly want my opinion: don't try to go looking for them."
"Well, are they dangerous?" Sam asks hurriedly.
There was a sudden silence from Missouri, Dean noticed as if she was trying to find a way to phrase her next words carefully.
And for all they knew, she was.
"...I believe they are just about as dangerous as you two boys," she slowly articulates, "but their home training deems them just as harmless at the same time."
"No offense, Missouri, but our home training wasn't exactly good in societal norms," Sam says.
"True," she admitted, "just they had it better."
Dean raises an eyebrow. "Better?"
Missouri sighed and, judging by the way she avoided their glance she looked...guilty? Now, the boys were interested!
"Well, if I had to make a comparison," she clarifies, "imagine a man who's an introduction into the supernatural was a lot similar to your father's - widowed, left to care for a young child, wanting answers for a truth nobody but a few would've believed. But the only difference is that he remembered to be one and put his child first."
"C'mon, Dad made his choices, but they protected us in the end," Dean tries to defend.
"Like Ben Braeden?"
Suddenly, Dean's stomach dropped.
Missouri continued, "Recall how you acted when you first saw that boy holding a shotgun? You meant well, but your execution left a lot to be desired. Now, I may have been your father's friend, but that didn't mean I shared his viewpoints in the ways you boys grew up! Even Bobby would've agreed with me, Lord rests his soul. But for the duration of that time with that young boy, you were his Daddy. Taught him enough to protect himself but would never have brought him into the Hunting Life! This individual I'm speaking of remembered to be a Daddy, and those visitors? They are you, but in a few ways, they're not. So when I say they are dangerous as you, I mean it in a way that where John failed, their Daddy succeeded. And if you want a better comparison, in the ways John succeeded, their Daddy doubled down on."
"And that's supposed to mean..."
"It means, for them, little children won't walk home to see their mothers stabbed in the chest and be told by their killers to grow up to seek vengeance."
Flashback ends...
"Everything okay?"
Dean turned to see Sam walking in, a beer in hand a worried look on his face.
"Yeah," Dean mutters, "Except I don't believe Missouri is telling us the whole thing."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really? How? Why?"
"I don't know," he sighs. "A sudden damn earthquake rocks through Kansas and I can't take my mind off of it!"
"Think it's a monster? A witch?" Sam asks, taking a sip of beer. "An angel?"
"Look if one of those popped up fully charged, we would know," Dean says, "but for now, I wanna know where those kids are."
Sam looked perplexed. "She didn't say they were kids, though."
"No," he admitted, "but she implied in her way."
"Not necessarily. Grown-ups refer to their fathers as Daddy, or Pops or something in that variety," Sam explains.
"Yeah, well, I think she was trying to hint that they were kids."
"Because of Amy's kid?"
Dean glanced up to see the worried look on his face. Sam couldn't help but look at him.
"Did you tell her son that?" he asks.
Dean reclines in his chair but doesn't meet his eyes. "Look, he was a kid, he said he had someone to go to. Soon enough, he's gonna hear all these horror stories about us and realize he's better off not trying anything."
"Or he could have been lying," Sam suggests, "and you went and set yourself up to be Azazel!"
Dean's eyes darken at the very suggestion of those words.
"I. AM. NOTHING. Like that sonofabitch!" Dean growls, practically swinging across the table. "Nothing!"
"But to him, you are," Sam says, serious tensions coming through his voice, "and I hope that he never acts on his revenge. Look at how we grew up! Yeah, we killed Azazel, but a shit tone of stuff happened because we played into some grand prophecy. And it was Mom's death, no, her deal, that kick-started everything! If you're right, the most you have is a kitsune who understands how his mother got on a hunter's radar. I'm not condemning Amy because what she was doing for him is what I would do for you and maybe the same for you. But if you're wrong, and the kid lied about having someone just to avoid what he could have seen as you killing him right where he stood, are you gonna carry a righteous attitude, or are you gonna have some regret if he comes to collect?"
Seeing the hidden fury in his eyes made Dean back down. while his brother may have forgiven him, Dean had to give his words some value.
He wasn't Azazel. He killed Amy because she would have killed him again. And with their luck, he's not liking the odds that Jacob might be on the other end of his blade or gun if it came to it.
But that doesn't mean you're any better, you damn hypocrite!
Dean shook the thought out of his head. He didn't claim to be righteous, but that didn't mean Kill Bill was meant for everyone.
So, children caused the earthquake? And Missouri is protecting them? Why? And from who? Us? he thought. We're the last ones to hurt a child, at least willingly!
The vague image of a young boy standing in the doorway with sadness and fury in his eyes shifts to fear desperation in a teenage girl with eyes just like his in every way but coloring before the scene changes to her bleeding out in the middle of a motel room flashes before his eyes and he stiffens
No, I can't think about her. Don't think about her, Dean. DON'T THINK ABOUT HER!
Dean got up and walks out of the library, leaving an apprehensive brother behind. Letting his feet guide him, he found himself staring at the #11 on his bedroom door before opening it.
Stepping inside, he locked the door and moves towards his dresser, where he moves it forward to form a gap. Leaning down, he felt for a loose brick in the wall before pulling it out and taking out a small box from the hidden hole. Putting the brick back and repositioning the dresser to its original position, Dean slowly sits on the bed with the box in hand.
With a deep sigh, he opens it and stares longingly as pulls out a golden, heart-shaped locket.
Back in Des Moines, Iowa, 1:30 PM...
Ben's POV
The SBM is a place where the monsters of various kinds can get anything they need, for the down-low price of monetary value or trading. Now, I know what you must be thinking: Why hasn't Supernatural Walmart wound up on the hunters' radar?
Well, for several reasons.
The most important thing about this place is that nobody talks. Nobody says anything and the hunters won't come running. To say discretion is key is an understatement.
The second most important thing is that locations are never the same place twice. Same state? Maybe, but not location. Even if someone blabbed, the market will be long gone by the time anyone finds them.
And last but not least, humans are not allowed. And I'm not talking just hunters, but humans in general! You will never see slavery at a market and no, that's not because monsters have hearts. The last thing anyone wants is a human escaping and calling authorities or that one human to be undercover and a raid of epic proportions commences. No, monsters that go here would rather be the prey of a hunter than risk bringing the potential downfall of an entirely secret operation.
They're like ninjas. They're in and then, they're out.
And of course, the thing me and my lovely Amazonian and demonic-angel of a sister are trying to do is locate one if it's in town. Like Men in Black, with the agents finding a case in outrageous news articles that nobody takes seriously, we luckily have the Internet! But the downside is finding the website and Samantha can't use magic because, somehow, the place is warded from witches. Well, it was in our world, but not taking the chances here!
At the moment, we're sitting at a Barnes Noble, and Samantha's shifting through the internet for potential murders that don't make sense. Usually, that's how we found a case, but the supernatural market uses clickbait, and somewhere in that clickbait is a code and that code usually leaves coordinates to the market...if it's in town.
"I doubt it's here."
"It will."
"And if not?"
"We're either hitchhiking, stealing, or killing. Whichever order, at least."
The little shit didn't even wince as Emma slapped her upside the head.
"Come on, have some fate in me," she pleads with the lips pouting.
"I will...when I can," I said, looking at the screen. "What exactly are we looking for?"
"A sense of humor only a monster could love," she explains, "monsters who go here are either led here or have some prior knowledge. Luckily, they updated to the 21st century and got creative funding for these markets. The usual click baits for humans and animals are a good start. It's the more morbid ones you gotta look for."
"Like '"Where Are They Now"' types of click baits?" I ask.
"More like morbid versions of You'll Never Believe What This Man Posted In An Online Ad or This Man Was The Most Wanted Person Alive, See Where He Is Now, but yep!" she agrees, "By the way, where's Emma?"
Emma went to Dollar Tree with $20 to find snacks, cooking material, and, knowing her, something personal.
"Did somebody call me?"
I lifted my head to see Emma coming back and in her hands...
"Is that a rolling cooler?" Samantha asks excitingly.
The smug grin on her face grew as she presented a white cooler with wheels attached before opening it up to see our "groceries" from the store.
"Where did you get it?" I ask, praying she didn't steal it.
Luckily, some higher dirty heard my prayers.
"This is the hard-earned fruit of my labor helping an elderly couple change their tire! They were sending some stuff to Goodwill and this ice chest was among them!" she beams with joy.
Thank you, Fortuna!
"What's with the photo album?" Samantha asks.
"Well, we're in a new world," she starts, pulling it out the chest, "so, the least we can do tack pictures if we can get out hands on a camera. But if not pictures, then..."
She then opens the album to the first page, revealing a tacky, colorful "Greetings From Iowa" postcard.
And these are the days I question just what went into her DNA that came from Dean Winchester.
"Found it!"
We turned to Samantha, who was clicking vigorously on her computer screen.
"Emma, you got a pen and paper?"
Like lightning, Emma gave her pen and notepad in her hand before scribbling away. Emma came behind her to look at the screen.
"What did you find...Oh boy."
Confused, I stood beside her and my eyes widened at the screen.
Danger: Serial Killer in Area.
Emergency Public Safety Alert
Local Alert: Wanted serial killer last seen 12 minutes from your zip code.
That was in 20 separate tabs on Samantha's computer. At first, it would look like she's going down a rabbit hole of repeating clickbait until you notice a spelling error in each tab.
It was like an algorithm with letters lowercase and uppercase and numbers in place of letters in place of numbers.
Samantha kept repeating it until the screen suddenly went black...and a bloody pentagram showed up and behind it was...
"'A sense of humor only a monster could love', huh?" I quote, "well, I guess what monsters love, they can mutually hate."
"And what's more hated in the monster community than-" Emma continues, starting at the screen in shock.
Right as mugshots of young, 20-ish Sam and Dean Winchesters in a mugshot with their mouths open and closing like Billy the Puppet.
"-Winchesters," we said simultaneously.
12:30 PM...
I should have known that was coming. Missouri did say Dad's counterpart had a few run-ins with the law (which bet Uncle D's counterpart was involved in).
We left the Barnes and Nobles and just walked around until we decided to lay low in McDonald's for a bit. Then we left there and just walked for hours, though it didn't seem far a walk (to whether I blame our supernatural sides or not is to be decided). We decided to dip a bit into our funds to get medical supplies and "lady stuff" for the girls (cue eyeballs rolling) at CVS. And after that, still walked until it was late and we arrived at Merle Hay Mall.
And when I say late, I mean late.
The business we deal with only opens at dead midnight.
I pulled out a pair of binoculars and switched from a distance as various vans started arriving at the back of the mall.
"Well?"
"They are just setting up shop," I said as I scanned various boxes and coolers being taken out of a few vans.
"What if it's not the same as our world," Emma asks worriedly.
"That won't be an issue," Samantha retorts, "when it comes to the Big Guy, all beta is off that he bothered with this place. Like the Sims, there's always something going on behind the scenes you don't know about."
"Not unless the plan is to make you think we don't know about it!"
"He's a terrible writer! For a guy who knows everything, if it wasn't for what's on our exoskeleton and because of Uncle D, we would've been found long ago!" she grumbled bitterly.
Samantha had a point. He reads Enochian, so Uncle Cas's idea toward us would have failed. However, using Enochian with various - and I mean various - other languages to the point it's unrecognizable, worked.
But Uncle D just had to call for him at the last minute!
We waited for over an hour, assuming the place needed time to get situated before heading down. I strained my ear for any cars coming while Emma ran ahead of us with her dagger out - just in case, she says. Samantha watched our backs, as always.
Once we hit the concrete pavement of the parking lot, we broke out into a run. We entered from the back exit and into the mall. The lights were still on, probably minutes from turning off. All the stores were still open, but that wasn't what we were looking for.
We headed to an open food station with an outward drinking machine and rang a bell left on the counter.
DING!
DING!
DING! DING! DING! DING! DI-
"Quit it!" I elbowed Samantha, who had the absolute nerve to smirk at me. Smirk!
"Do you think we have the wrong place?" Emma asks, eyes shifting as we looked around.
"Depends on your idea of the wrong place."
We fixed our eyes on a lone man in a tacky red and yellow uniform slowly waltzing towards us from behind the counters. He had no hair on his head, but he was surprisingly handsome for his apparent age. That was the first warning.
"My name's Marv," he introduced with his pearl-ly white smile, "what can I get you to drink?"
My dhampir senses were tingling and I could smell it before I saw it.
I spoke up first.
"Hello there, Mr. Marv," I said charmingly, "I'll have a drink. Large please."
"And what would your drink be, young man?"
"The red kind. The one you'd have to die for."
Suddenly, the welcoming, jovial demeanor turned cold and suspicious at us.
"Where are your parents?"
"In a place of no return. By a group that wished have us harm."
"And how is it that they wish you harmed?"
"Why I can't tell, or else I'd lose my head," I said with finality.
At that, I bare my teeth, and with slight discomfort, turn my normal dentures into rows of retractable, sharp, pointy teeth.
The man stares grimly at us, and for a second, I almost think we came to the wrong place until he left from behind the counter and walk away.
He stopped for a second, turn his head around, and said "Come with me."
We hurriedly follow behind him until he led us to an enclosed, clothing store and rolls up the security gate high enough for us to crouch under. One by one, we went in before the man followed behind us and closed the gate. From then, we followed him to the back of the store to the storage place full of packaged boxes, where from here he removed the boxes to reveal a hidden door and opened it to reveal a secret staircase. We followed him in and wandered in the darkness until he pulls out a flashlight and I nearly lost my shit when I met a wall full of bloody handprints.
I guess he must've smelled my fear because I heard chilling laughter right behind me.
"Don't worry, little ones," he said in his hair-raising voice, "the mall once had a haunted house and these are the remnants from that time."
"Noted," Samantha states, almost completely bored-like and doing increasingly well at hiding her fear.
But then again, she had survived bargaining her soul for Crowley's help in our world. Working with demons tends to decrease the long list of things that can scare you.
We kept following him until multicolor lights appeared ahead and the man walked before us and, for the first time, gave us the jovial smile originally he greeted us with at the food court. Which would have seemed normal, if his teeth weren't pointy and his human orbs replaced with pointy, sharp teeth and blue, snake-like eyes.
A Vetala. I knew I smelled a snake!
"Welcome to Emporium Tenebrae Bellua."
Welcome to the Bazaar of The Dark Beast...He pulls back the curtain and revealed a sight I never thought I'd see again.
When you hear "bazaar", the first thing that comes to mind is the synonym for "weird" it a marketplace out of the Middle East.
In all honesty, it's all that and more.
The bazaar is the marketplace of the supernatural where any monster can buy or sell anything, payment varying from monetary value or trade. But unlike a human marketplace, it can't always be out in the open and instead have to operate in dead malls (or in this case, the basements) to operate. Using dark curtains and multi-colored fluorescent lights that flash through the halls, the empty basement's now filling up with a lively, bustling crowd of monsters from stall to stall. One on my right was filled with ordinary fruit, another to my left had opened coolers with labeled body parts on the ice, another filled with clothes, another with books, others with utensils, burner phones, teeth, claws, feathers, fangs-
Oh yeah, I probably forgot the mention the three most Uber important things that come with supernatural black markets. I said how they remained hidden, but not how they operate.
1. The market is Neutral territory. Think of the Continental Hotel in John Wick and you have a pretty good idea of it. All monsters are welcomed under a white flag to buy and sell or trade whatever they want. Also, like the Continental, there's a non-violence policy. Unlike the occasional yelling, dissatisfied customer, these markets happen at night, so the last thing you need is to have an all-out brawl take place and draw attention, lest risking exposure to the market. The monsters, for the sake of discretion, have no choice but to be civil. However, there is leniency: If you come across a monster that's wronged you in the past, you have the right to get justice...just have the decency to take it elsewhere. Also, You even get a good deal and a support network if you either find yourself on a hunter's radar or just barely escaped one yourself! As a temporary shelter/way station before finding a place to lay low, you can get new identities, food, clothes, transportation, and license plates to prevent cars from being tracked. It's a sanctuary...if it's in town. If not, then you better be resourceful enough to lose the hunters on your tail or you're dead.
2. Don't ask questions. If you're moral, you're a dead man. 85% of everything on the market was acquired by unethical means aka stealing, looting, and murder. The same thing also applies to hunters. If they feel like taking body parts and personal effects from monsters, it's fair game for the monsters to take their shit too! like, say the "Quiet Guy" manning a small bookstall doesn't seem suspicious, so you open a book there and quickly realize they're hunting journals and the "Quiet Guy" is a lethal monster that killed so many hunters, it was enough to be a bookstall in the first place! Only 10% are actually brought from human stores, like drift stores, or donated by half the price. 5% goes to some products cultivated by the monsters, hence the fruit and vegetables and herbs. Also, the logic of humans buying human organs applies the same here with monsters. So if you find your sister's uncle's cousin's brother's fangs or paws and feel a sense of injustice, you're better off buying those body parts back than avenging a loved one.
And 3. Don't become a traitor. This is the most sacred thing about these markets: By the end of the day, everyone is just trying to survive. And his traveling marketplace is just one way of the more unstable, stable things they can have. Meaning, betraying the market means you betray the monsters, and monster solidarity is a very, fluid construct! A betrayal leads to exposure, exposure leads to humans and humans leads to hunters, and, taking cues like the Salem Witch Trials, very bad things happen. Dad himself barely survived discovering the market if he hadn't had someone vouch for him - which led to a very tentative alliance in people in nee f an Equalizer.
That little phraseology game I did at the food court was standard procedure, a little something I and my siblings picked up from our world. Something Samantha was right about:
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't going to pay attention to the dealings of monsters, leaving it up to chance for a place like this to exist, and we're lucky to even find this place at all!
The first time Dad discovered this place, he was chasing a werewolf through Washington, DC, and accidentally found one of these markets by accident. Truth be told, discovery by hunter ends two ways: Silence the hunter or silence the monster who led them there. It was Jesse who had accompanied him on that hunt and told us that if it hadn't been the recognition of a pregnant shapeshifter he saved years ago, he'd be a dead man.
(Of course, Jesse being half-demon means that he would have fought to save Dad either way, but the odds weren't in his favor due to sheer numbers and his ability to use his powers without wearing himself out!)
But yeah, this place is the one place where you can get almost everything - and I mean everything.
It's also why Samantha suggested coming here at all: New identities and supplies. Perfect for 4 newly orphaned siblings to start a new life in a new world!
Just one problem-
"Come on," a chilling command urges me and my siblings forward towards the darker parts of the basement, "It's time to meet The Overseer."
These guys don't just trust any newbie monsters to their secret place.
Fingers crossed we didn't just jump alternate universes for nothing!