Hello, guys! :) Time for the next chapter. Wishing you happy reading! :))


Colorless. No blacks and whites. Just shades of gray. Past and present... I reel and lean on the closest wall.

Blood, bruises, marks of electric burns... water dripping from him... and this strange surgical scar on his abdomen...

A cry. And maniac laughter. My laughter. And his cry.

Fear and shock, blue eyes wide open in terror. I feel the smile on my lips as I approach him. His body writhes in his worthless efforts to escape the pain...

Crazy blue eyes... his voice frantic and raspy... his wild, uncontrollable laughter... his lust and threats... euphoric jabber... mad giggling... and the story... the truth behind the Stynes...

The beat of Taylor Swift's "Love Story" brings me out of my trance. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize it's my phone ringing. Dean has managed to switch the ring tone. Again.

"Braeden Singer." I quickly say.

"I hear you're looking for a witch, darling." a fuss Scottish accent states.

"I do." I look around to make sure Sam, Dean or Ben are not around.

"Good. I suggest we meet then."


" So you're telling me Mary Shelley based her novel on his family?" Sam asks in disbelieve.

"Frankenstein?" Dean huffs amused, "That's made up."

We are in front of the building. I'm filling the boys on what I found from our prisoner. Ben is the only one who hasn't said a word yet. I still feel deeply soiled from what I just did. I can feel Dean's worried eyes on me. He's seen me carving information out of different monsters many times. But last time, in Purgatory, something in me snapped. I believe it was because of all the horrendous things I had to do to get to Dean and Cas. That at that moment it was too much for me to handle. So I just shut myself down. I wasn't myself for three days, I was told. I understand Dean's worry, but after the initial shock of my last monstrosity, I'm shockingly fine. I really am okay.

"Very well, Dean." I say irritated, "Next time I stuff someone with a cocktail of anxiolytics and dopaminergic stimulants, I'll leave the questioning to you."

"Hey, I didn't..."

"Is that what made him talk?" Ben finally speaks, "Is that all you did to him?"

"No," I rub my face, "Not only." I'm reluctant to discuss it, "Turns out bioengineering is the family's specialty. Eldon Styne is surgically enhanced. All of them are."

"Enhanced how?"

"He's got two hearts."

"Two hea... Wait, what?" Dean goggles.

"Yeah, yeah," I cut him off, "I know. It's hard to..."

A rumble. And a noise of a door slamming. We all bolt inside. Only to find an arm hanging from the chains used to bound Eldon Styne, blood dripping from it.

"Oh, my God!" Dean utters bewildered, "He ripped it off."


"He was drooling all over, babbling nonsense," I point out irritated, "I thought I had his ass completely drugged."

"You didn't think of his enhancements, did you?" Dean's voice comes through the phone.

"Thanks for making me feel even more of a loser."

"I didn't mean..."

"I know," I cut him off, looking both sides of the street before crossing, "God, that awful weather."

It's raining, and I'm soaked to the skin, shivering and feeling like a rain dog.

"Where are you, anyway?" Dean asks.

"Quick supply run."

"Supply run?" he sounds confused, "We've got beer and..."

"Special supply run," I emphasize the first word.

"Special?"

"Tampons, Dean. I need tampons."

"Oh..." there's an awkward silence, "Okay."

"Any sign of Eldon Styne?" I change the subject.

"Lots of signs... just no him," Dean sighs "I followed the blood trail... Which, by the way, was like Mississipi.. till it ran dry."

"He bled out?" I ask astonished, waiting to hang up so I can hide from the rain.

"No. The trail stopped. Vanished. Nada..."

"Yeah, I get it." I roll my eyes, "Look, I gotta go. We'll talk when I come back, okay?"

"Fine. Just hurry up."

I don't bother to answer, just hang up and enter the fancy restaurant. I'm really out of place here among the nice music, the brilliant white tablecloths, the silver knives, and forks... No. My place is clearly not here with my soaked clothes, messy hair, and muddy boots. Soon a waiter with a dashing smile, curiosity in his eyes, and a flawless uniform leads me to a table where I sit across the witch.

"Ms. Singer, I presume," the same fuss accent, the same powerful manner as she flips back her fiery curls.

"Who are you?" I directly ask, looking straight into her hazel eyes, contoured with black eyeliner.

"Well, dearie," she purses her red lips, " You can call me Rowena."


This one's really short, sorry about that. What do you think about Braeden torturing Eldon and the possible consequences of it? Drop me a review and tell me. :))