Daughter of Cain
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
A/N: I need your help! To those who read my Supernatural series, I take a request on which episode should an OC should be. Place your recommendation in the reviews.
Chapter 6: Sharp Teeth
Vivian's POV
"I need you to check on Dean Winchester," Cain announced.
I stared at my Cain in disbelief. We were in the middle of the woods, taking a break from our daily travels. Ever since the Demons appeared on our farm, we have been continuously moving. The only time we stop was when I needed to rest. Cain, on the other hand...ever since he had a taste of killing, the demon within him awoke to prevent sleep. Demons never sleep. The only time you would find a demon unconscious is by knocking him out or exerting too much energy.
However, growing up, he has fallen into a light slumber, grasping what little humanity he had left. But now, it was like the need to sleep, eat, drink, anything human ceased. All this constant traveling was tiresome. Even though I was a Cambion, my human requirements needed to be attended to.
"You think that is wise, Pa?" I asked.
He turned around and nodded, "I have never transferred the mark before. I need to be sure he is
alive or is affected by it."
"Why can't we go together?"
"If I go, I might be tempted to get the mark back."
I sighed, "But he's a hunter."
The previous Cambions were devilishly cunning and angelically beautiful. They were able to persuade even the most strong-hearted individual to do his or her bidding. Most cambions have evil tendencies due to their demon parent's influence. I was an exception, though raised by my Hell Knight Father, there was no evil. Relying on the memories of his humanity and the precious moments of his dear Colette kept me from falling on the path others would have crashed. There are two types of Cambions, ones who side with the demons, and there are those who side with humans. Our powers are the same; it's the decisions we make by the nurture we grow. Hunters, even an organization called The Men of Letters, took the words of a mage back in Arthurian times who claimed that the Cambions are evil. Thanks to one Cambion name Caliban
"You know what to do, just observe from afar," Cain murmured.
"Fine," I muttered and secured my bag.
"I'll see you soon," he said, patting my shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and focused on the mark. Sensing the source of dark energy until pinpointed. With a deep breath, I opened my eyes, I found myself in Grantsburg, Wisconsin. There was a wild scent but not exotic, feral, canine, lycanthrope...pureblood. Interesting. Sensing these many werewolves in one area is rare. Usually, a pack is made of five at least, not a third of the community. Finding it dark, I walked along the road, trying to locate Dean. That is until I saw a deer in the trench. I awed at its beauty, for wildlife is so precious.
However, before I could take a step, a werewolf dressed in a sheriff's uniformed pounced on it, tearing it to bits. Immediately, I teleported to the trees keeping a vice grip in watching the werewolf hunt. It must be a pureblood since it was two days past the full moon. Although the creature held more control. Slicing up the dear, making sure no blood got on its uniform, giving the deer a quick death. After that, the Sheriff controlled his breathing and tamed the beast back to human form. He walked away, heading towards the cruiser across the street.
He cleaned up, expertly removing any blood, and called his phone for an Agent Perry. Curious, I remain hidden in the trees observing. Why would a werewolf Sheriff call for an Agent to see his kill? Ten minutes later, a black Impala drove up.
Oh, that explains why.
Dean and another man exited the vehicle. The second man was tall, fair skin, with brown hair that reached his shoulders.
The Sheriff stood by the body and greeted the two hunters, "Well, you wanted a weird, agent. You tell me what tore up that deer. Nothing that runs in -these- parts."
Dean and who I assumed was his brother Sam, knelt down to examine the carcass. Sam seemed a bit disgusted with the entrails exposed. Dean, on the other hand, stuck his hand in feeling the temperature.
"Fresh blood," Dean called out.
"Yes, it is." The Sheriff agreed, extracting his claws, exposing his real face.
With enhanced hearing, I listen carefully.
"Still warm," Dean whispered. "That means it died after we got the call."
Instantly both men stood up; however, the Sheriff pulled out his gun. "Couldn't just accept that all was good and moved on, could you? You have no idea what you've walked into, do you? No matter. You won't be walking out."
Damn it, I thought.
Legend foretold if anyone who dies while wearing the Mark of Cain will have a fate worse than death. Can't have that allowed if Dean is supposed to kill Abaddon. Sighing, I teleported and disarmed the Sheriff grabbing his gun. He was baffled until he gasped where a silver knife was embedded in his chest. Just like that, he fell to the ground dead. I sighed, yanking the silver-blade out of his chest.
"Nice aim, sugar," I complimented.
Dean walked over, taking his knife back. He didn't seem pleased to see me, "What are you doing here?"
"Awe, Cain wanted me to check on ya," I answered.
"Why?" He growled.
"Makin' sure yer arm didn't fall off or something," I replied, staring at his right forearms. "Seem's to be intact."
"Dean, who is this?" Sam asked.
Dean turned around facing his brother, "Sam, this is Cain's daughter...uh…"
"Vivian," I finished with a huff. "Less than two weeks, and already forgot my name. How rude."
"Hey, you were mainly on the sidelines the last we spoke," Dean muttered.
I rolled my eyes, "Anyway, I see you have solved your werewolf problem."
"Not even close," Dean said.
Sam knelt down to the Sheriff, examining his body. He found something. A necklace, more precisely a silver bullet on a chain. "Hey, look at this."
"I've seen that before," Dean said, taking a closer look, "Yeah, that is a favorite accessory of the good reverend and his flock."
Sam spotted something on the bullet, "Ragnarök?"
"That's Norse mythology's end of days," I informed.
"Like Thor, Loki, Odin stuff, Right?" Dean asked.
"Well, not like the Marvel universe," I commented. The older hunter looked at me, surprised. "Just because I grew up in isolation doesn't mean I deprived myself of various forms of entertainment."
"But why is it etched onto a bullet?" Sam asked.
"Who cares? We got all the answers we need." Dean replied.
"I don't know, Dean." Sam disagreed. "I think we need more."
"Oh, what? Sheriff Andy Taylor here wasn't good enough for you?"
"Enough to kill Garth?" Sam asked. "Come on, man... Let's do this right."
"All right, fine. Clean this up, grab Garth, lock him up until we figure out what's what. I'm gonna check out that church."
"Well, my home visit is done," I said, walking away. "See ya next time."
Before I made the tenth step, a hand grabbed my arm in a vice grip, it was Dean, "Oh no you don't. Aren't you curious about what is going on?"
"As much as I am curious, inserting myself is not my cup of tea." I countered, yanking my arm back. "Besides, whatever this cult is seeking will sadly be disappointed."
"And why do you say that?" Dean asked.
I gave them a look only to find them not grasping. Seriously, aren't hunters supposed to know their folklore and mythology?
"Look, Ragnarök is supposed to be the apocalypse in Norse Mythology. A wolf name Fenris must kill Odin. However, Odin has been dead a few years now by the hands of Lucifer. Therefore, Ragnarök is canceled."
"Still, why?" Sam asked.
"Some packs consider Fenris a wolf deity. Especially since he is the son of Loki, he bit Tyr's hand off. This pack, cult is called the Maw of Fenris.
"A cult of werewolves." Sam chuckled. "What do they want?"
"I'm not sure," I answered. "None of Cain's collection tell the reason. Now can I go?'
"Come on, we can use some help," Dean said.
I sighed; I could quickly just teleport right to the spot. And yet, my curiosity got the best of me.
"Fine, but first, let's hide the body." With a wave of my hand, the Sheriff's body transfigures into a porcelain doll. Both Winchester's eyes widen, as I went over and picked up the toy and tossed it at them, along with the key.
"I'm riding in the Impala," I said, walking over to the lovely beauty.
The boys exchange some words, as Sam drove the cruiser and Dean in the Impala. The drive was silent, as Dean filled me in on the situation. They have a friend named Garth, who became a werewolf and is married to one name Bess. Her family is many generations, who believe in the Spiritual nature, but felt something was not right. Well, the Sheriff just proved that. We arrived at Reverend Jim Myers church. Dean picked the lock leading the way inside. The place was empty, so we went into the reverend's office to see if there were any signs that the Myers family were part of the Maw. Searching deeply, we found a leather-bound book with a pawprint burned on the front. Dean opened the book to reveal its content of ancient illustrations from Norse culture and writing.
"Think you can read this?" Dean asked.
"Been a while since I read runes and this dialect," I and started reading.
Dean continues to search around. He checked the computer and woke the screen, only to muttered, "Seriously." Time went on in our search until Dean's phone rang. Quickly he answered it.
"Hey. Did you find the lovebirds?"
"No," Sam answered. "Place is a wreck. No Garth, no Bess."
"Wait, they were taken?" Dean asked, baffled. "Well, that's fan-friggin'-tactic."
"Tell me you got something?" Sam asked.
"Yep, the Maw of Fenris believed Ragnarök would be the extinction of all men. " I announced.
"As in total and complete werewolf domination," Dean added.
"And...what?" Sam asked. "This is the - the ground-zero for their movement?"
"Freakin' Wisconsin, man," Dean answered. "Well, time for Reverend Him to go down. "
"Yeah. Need any help?" Sam offered,
"No, no, no, I got it. You just, uh, you find Garth."
"All right."
They hung up, and Dean looked at me, "Is there any way to start Ragnarök?"
"Nope, even the book says Odin must die by the teeth of Fenris," I confirmed.
"Terrific," He muttered. "Save's us from one Apocalypse."
Suddenly there was a sound of a car door closing. Quietly we walked over to the door. Dean had his gun out, as an old man in a dark coat and hat enter the church. He closed the door, making his way towards the front of the church. Halfway, he stopped inhaling a deep breath then sighed,
"It's no use, Dean," he said. "I can hear your and friend's heartbeat. You must've done this countless times, yet you still get nervous."
Dean made his way over gun aimed at the reverend, "Nothing wrong with a little fear. It's what makes us human."
"Fear is not a purely human instinct." Reverend Jim replied, turning around to face us. "Even monsters know fear. I came to work on my sermon."
"Well, why don't you start by preaching to me about the Maw of Fenris?"
Reverend Jim was appalled when hearing this
"Yeah, that's right," Dean said, lowering his gun. "I know all about you and your pack's little plan."
"I assure you, we are planning nothin," Reverend Jim said.
"No? Well, then, why did we read about it in your good book?" Dean asked.
The werewolf sighed, "Because generations ago, that hate and misplaced anger was part of our beliefs. But ever since I took over here, I have eradicated it from our congregation. "
"Yeah, well, apparently, some of them didn't get the word - like the good sheriff, who just tried to off me and my brother." Dean sarcastically said.
This surprised Reverend Jim, "Sheriff Pat?"
I sighed, stepping in, "On his silver bullet with Ragnarök etched on it." I walked over to the werewolf seeing the bullet resting on his heart. Examining every detail, all it was is a plain silver bullet. "He is clean."
"Where is it?" Dean asked still having his gun pointed at the werewolf.
"Where's what?" Reverend Jim asked.
"Ragnarok." Dean answered harshly.
"What?" Reverend Jim asked baffled.
"It was etched into the sheriff's bullet," Dean explained
"That's impossible. The Maw is dead," Reverend Jim assured.
"Yeah, well, tell that to Garth and your daughter, who are missing," Dean countered.
The werewolf face dropped with concern, "No."
"Do you know who would have taken them?" I asked.
"I do, my wife, Joy." He answered. "Her father was the previous alpha, and he believed in the Maw."
"Where could she have taken them?" I asked.
"Probably on the farm," he answered.
He gave us the address, along with his coat, before we left to rescue Dean's friends. Dean tries to contact Sam, but he wasn't answering. He cursed, assuming the Maw took him. The drive was fast, but we made it outside the farm. Before we left, Dean had a plan. He took his coat and gave it to me. I put it on, as Dean wore Jim's.
"Hope ya don't mind being bait?" Dean asked.
I shrugged, "Better than waiting in the car, Sugar."
We exited the Impala, sneaking our way in. I informed Dean there was a werewolf prowling, while everyone else was inside the barn. He nodded as he hid in the bushes holding a silver knife. I stood my ground waiting. Barely a minute in the wait did a werewolf walked over, ready to pounce smelling the hunter's scent. He stopped in mid-pounce to see me.
"Who are you?" He growled.
"A distraction," I murmured.
Before he could comprehend, Dean came up and stab the werewolf in the back. Its body fell to the ground. Dean removed the wolf of his jacket and took off Jim's coat before putting the other on.
"I know you aren't into the killing, but can you watch my back?" Dean asked.
I nodded as we headed to the barn. Dean had his gun ready and aimed at a middle age blond hair woman, while she was extracting her claws at Sam. Suddenly, there was a roar, looking up another male werewolf jumped. Shoving Dean out of the way, I took the blow being pinned down. Summoning my strength, I flipped us around, punching the creature in the face. He extracted his claws, scratching me in the face. I cried out from the sudden pain losing concentration that the wolf flipped us. Before it could bite, Dean came up from behind, stabbing him in the side and shoved him off me. I stood up panting, as we started at the she-wolf.
"Wearing Russ' coat to hide your scent - smart." Joy complimented.
"Oh, I'm full of surprises," Dean replied.
"As am I?" She murmured, launching for a gun that was on the ground.
Dean realized this and reached for his gun, shooting her in the heart before she could pull the trigger. Everyone watched comprehending what had just happened. Afterward, Dean went to free Sam. I went over to a thin man chained to a ladder; he must be Garth. He ran over and helped his mate out of her restraints.
The Winchesters came over to me.
"Thanks for the help," Sam said.
"Not a problem," I said with a smile.
"You know, having a cambion as a hunter could be useful." Dean offered.
I chuckled, shaking my head, "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."
"Why not?" Dean asked.
"I made a promise to not kill unless I have too," I explained.
"To Colette," Dean concluded.
"For my Ma, indeed," I confirmed. "See you at your next check-up."
And with that said, I teleported out of there and back to Cain. He was still located in the forest, having a campfire already made. He sat there, sharpening his blade lost in thought. A moment later, he looked up, looking at me.
"His arm is still intact, and there are no signs of aggressive killing," I reported.
Cain nodded, "I can smell werewolf off you."
"A bit of trouble with the Maw of Fenris," I said.
"Dumb mutts," he muttered, grazing the sharpener on the bowie edge. "Along with Dean's scent."
I paused till realizing I was still wearing Dean Winchester's jacket. Oops, forgot to take it off before teleporting. The scent invaded my nose, finally smelling the hunter's aroma—the scent of musk, herbs, gunpowder, and beer.
"He knows strategy," I muttered and sat down on the other side of the fire.
Cain held a calculating look. Something was spinning in his head, which resulted in a smirk curling up his lips.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothin," he said.
I scoffed, when he says nothing, he means something. But I was tired and took a first aid kit to tend the bloody scratches on my cheek. Although, thoughts linger back to a few hours ago. I was supposed to observe Dean, yet I inserted myself into their case. Was its mere curiosity or something more? Ever have I defy Cain's order. But I did this once.
So... what did you guys think?
Episode 9.12: Sharp Teeth
To those who are wondering, in the Episode with Jesse Turner, he had turned Castiel into an action figure. Vivian was born during the Victorian Era, nearing the end of the Civil War, and her childhood in The Reconstruction Era of America. So, she grew up having porcelain dolls. Thus, her enemies or covering a dead body turns into a porcelain doll.
Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!