"Does hunting even run through my blood?"

"You just need to practice," Dean instructed.

"Couldn't you go easy on me? Even just a little bit?" I begged, getting off the grassy ground. Dean had so far taught me bow-hunting, how to do the salt-and-burn, how to do an exorcism, how to kill what with what, and now was teaching me the bow staff, to use against regular people in an attack. Sam occasionally asked me questions about what I knew so far from watching Ghost Busters and stuff. All I had to do was learn the bow staff, and I'd be a hunter. This is the only thing I've had trouble with, as Dean has knocked me down to the ground for the twenty-sixth time. I have done well in everything else, but the bow staff…

"If someone attacks you with this, they're not going to go easy on you just because you're a girl, so neither am I," Dean said. He jumped forward and swung at me with the staff. I blocked it and then, seeing an opportunity, hit him on the shoulder.

"Nice, Rickie!" Sam called.

"Thanks," I grunted.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" Dean taunted. He aimed for my left side, but I twirled to the right and hit him in the ribs. Before he could react, I hit him in the back of the knee. Then the ribs.

"Oh, you've done it now, bitch," Dean laughed.

"What did you just call me?" I asked.

"You heard me," Dean grinned. "B-I, T-C…"

"Sam! What are you doing?" I gasped.

Dean turned to look at his brother, who was still working on his laptop and was doing nothing. Using this as my advantage, I swung the staff under his legs straight up. He realized too late that I had tricked him. His eyes went wide with pain as he bent over slightly. Grinning, I put a single finger on his forehead and faintly pushed. He fell over. Sam began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Sorry, Dean," I said, laughing. "If you were an attacker, I would have done the same thing to them."

"That… isn't nice," Dean gasped, getting to his feet.

"You called me bitch," I shrugged.

"I was kidding," Dean panted. Then he grinned. "But not bad. You're finally one of us. A hunter."

"Yes!" I exclaimed, punching my fist in the air.

"Alright, Rickie, here's the plan," Sam said.

"Okay," I said. I sat on the ground and put my fingertips together, like Dumbledore in those Harry Potter movies.

"This Anti-Clause can take the shape of anyone, and gives their target certain things each day for a period of time, until Christmas Eve, when then they feed on their prey."

"Gross," I commented. He nodded.

"They usually chose someone innocent and young, because, I assume, they think that they taste sweeter than bad kids. They try to lure them to be bad, though, causing havoc in their home until the night they get eaten. Then the Anti-Clause disappears for exactly a hundred years, and then comes back for another kid."

"How do we kill this, um, Anti-Clause? Salt-and-burn? Or is it a demon? I can do the exorcism if you want," I offered.

"Nah, it's not a demon. It's kinda like a zombie, or something. You have to kill it with a white-hot knife, right in the heart," Sam informed me.

"So smart, our little college boy," Dean said, messing up Sam's hair.

"Shut up." Sam shut the laptop and placed it carefully in his bag. "I have a plan, but it's going to have to be done precisely, and nothing can go wrong. Nothing. You guys understand?"

"You got it, Sammy," Dean said. "All we need is a knife, a way to get to Carrie's room, and a fire, and we're done! What could possibly go wrong?"

I know the last two chapters are short, but the next ones will be longer. Promise!

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