Title: Meant To Be
Author: Slayer Isis
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester find themselves in Illinois where research has led them to Chicago, following the leads of mysterious deaths involving women. A mysterious artifact leads Dean and Sam to an old friend who may be able to help. She, a professor at Northwestern University, becomes involved with this investigation. But not only are the three in search of this illusive killer, but new secrets are revealed that will ultimately change their paths in life. (I suck at summaries – please read.)
Rated: PG – PG-13
Theme: Romance/Action/Adventure/Angst/Supernatural (obviously)
Author's Note: I'm not completely familiar with the show. I don't remember where the first episode took place or other small details like that. If I happen to get a certain fact wrong, please correct me.
Feedback/reviews greatly appreciated.
O.O.O.O.O.
Chapter One
Off to Illinois
The black car sped down the deserted highway, the sound of the engine echoing through the air and music by the Rolling Stones blasting through the vehicle. The headlights carefully examined the road while the driver plainly paid attention to the invisible cars passing by. His brown eyes glazed over but a punch by his brother, sitting in the passenger seat, jolted him back to reality.
Sam, whose hands were now firmly gripped on the wheel, focused back on the road. In the seat opposite him, Dean sat quickly typing away at the laptop. Looking over for a second, Sam rolled his eyes at the skull sticker found on the cover of the laptop.
The Rolling Stones had ended and Sam was glad to find that the cassette was over. He secretly prayed that the next town they stopped at they could possibly install a CD player. Or even trade in the old car.
The sleeves of his brown jacket were slightly rolled up to above the wrists and Sam wore a navy blue T-shirt; his ensemble was finished with a pair of jeans and sneakers.
Dean was dressed in denim jeans, a gray T-shirt and his favorite black leather jacket. His hazel eyes blinked back several times as he slowly stretched out his arms in front of him. His hand ran through his dirty blonde, spiked hair.
"Hey, you want to pull over? I can take over." Dean yawned. It was his own pathetic attempt to sound nice and take over the driving.
Sam smiled slowly. He recognized his brother's act and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." He yawned slowly. "So, Chicago is definitely the destination, right?"
"The four women who were killed…yep…all in Chicago…Highway Two-ninety," Dean replied. "It's weird man-"
"Weirder than what we're used to?" Sam almost laughed. His brother smiled at him as Dean continued to search through articles and web pages.
"The women were found in these random places…old warehouse…abandoned factory…all done in secret. But we have reason to believe that our kinda strange is involved because of the markings carved into their skin…"
"The Egyptian hieroglyphs…" Sam finished. "Doesn't make sense. The only reason I have for going to Chicago to investigate is because of my gut. What else do we have to go on?"
The sound of his strong fingers pressing against the keyboard annoyed Sam. He wanted facts to take the time to go to Chicago. Although his feelings about certain things were growing day after day, he still wanted to make sure some type of monster or demon was in charge of this.
"All we have are the markings. It's strange, Sammy…"
Sam, Sam thought angrily. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and sighed.
"All we have are the hieroglyphs…but these articles also mention this artifact found at the first killing. A piece of old parchment or paper found on the body of the first victim…Ancient Egyptian written across it…it hasn't been translated yet."
"My guess," Sam offered, "could be a possession…it's possible for an old Egyptian spirit to possess someone…maybe we have an angry spirit."
"We need to get our hands on that artifact…" Dean murmured. His face grew calm and gentle, eyes wondering about the future mission.
The two brothers looked straight ahead as night remained. To Sam's dismay, Dean changed a new cassette.
O.O.O.O.O.
Cicero, Chicago…
The woman couldn't help it. She continued to fight the invisible force that continued to press her down back onto the cold, wet floor. Her curly blonde hair flew around all sides of her face as she screamed and cried. Tears fell onto her yellow dress as she scrambled to remove herself away from the phantom wind, her small ankles gave in and she crashed onto the floor.
Her scream pierced the air but no one would come to help. She knew she was in the basement of her house – and she was all alone.
A man, in his early twenties, stood before the woman as the wind continually blew around her. His eyes were gray and sunken as if he had had no sleep for so long. He wore a white dress shirt and jeans and black dress shoes. His hair was jet black and his hands remained at his sides.
"That's enough," the man said, and instantly the wind grew faint and disappeared completely.
Pulling the hair away from her face, the woman stared into the eyes of the man and screamed. She scattered across the floor and moved against the wall with the single beige couch.
"I'm sorry, but it will be slow…" the man whispered.
"No…no…NOOO!" she begged.
The man stepped forward and began to mutter something under his breath. He chanted in this strange language that the woman could not understand. As he chanted, the woman felt so weak she couldn't even find the strength to stand. She crotched in the small corner of the white walls. Her fingers were clinging to her dress and tears were flowing more frequently.
Suddenly, the man was now in her face. She wasn't expecting him to move so fast on her and the woman opened her mouth to scream but the man placed his hand and covered her cry. His eyes glowed and a black light erupted from his pupils. The woman tried to scream and then the man placed a strong hand on the woman's chest. She tried to fight back but feeling in her arms disappeared and her body was now paralyzed. The woman's eyes were wide opened and a bright black glow formed underneath the man's hand onto the woman's chest. His lips moved slowly as he continued the Egyptian chant. The light from his hand disappeared and the black glow of his eyes went with it.
A small smile covered his lips and his free hand reached around his back pocket and he pulled a small Swiss army knife out.
The woman coughed and her eyes fluttered closed and opened. She wanted to scream again. She didn't know what was happening. She was so tired. So weak. Her body had feeling again. But before any noise could escape her lips, the man stood and waved his hand at her. She flew across the floor instantly and landed in the center. She moaned in pain and rolled on her side.
Her head looked up and the man was now on top of her. His hand cupped as if he was holding an invisible sphere. The woman's eyes grew in fear and shock when black smoke grew in his hand and turned into a sphere-like shape. He held the fiery black orb in his hand and he smiled as he pressed it into the woman's stomach. She screamed and her cry rang out through the basement. But just as her desperate cry ended, it was obvious now that the woman was dead. Her eyes were wide opened.
The knife he still held slowly made its way to her arms as he began to inscribe into the corpse's skin. As he did all this, he continued to mutter an Egyptian chant.
O.O.O.O.O.
A/N: I know the description in the basement was LONG. Trust me, that'll be the only one. I just want to make sure I put in the details and people can imagine what just happened. Next chapter coming soon.