The Supernatural Ventures of Three Girls
Chapter Two
It was a slow night at the dusty, misshapen bar. There were only a few customers left. Sam Winchester began clearing the counters with a browned, damp cloth.
"I hope no one else comes in. I just wanna get home," Sam mumbles to himself, tired and drowsy.
Then, the bells on the door ring. Sam looks up to see two women in their twenties standing on the threshold, observing their new surrounding with an almost predator-like gaze. One has red, curly hair with an obvious air of flightiness. The other, with short, spiky brown hair, is furiously discussing something with the redhead, clearly aggravated, eyebrows together and eyes blazing.
"If you don't want to hear my views, then don't ask!" yells the redhead.
"I didn't ASK!" the shorthaired girl replies, flinging her arms down at her side.
"Then HOW THE HECK did we start talking politics!" screams the redhead, waving her hands in the air. Suddenly, both of the girls' facial expressions soften, and they stare at each other knowingly.
The two girls smile and say in time, "Shun," and proceed to opposite sides of the bar.
Still standing at the bar dumbfounded, Sam remembers what he was doing and says loudly to the women, "Hey, um… we're closing soon. Is there any reason you guys are here?"
Sam sits there, shifting his feet and nervously tapping his fingers, anxious for them to leave. The two women turn their gaze towards him in unison. The shorthaired woman's eyebrows shift upwards, and the redhead sprouts a smile that almost takes up the bottom half of her face. She races over excitedly to the nearest barstool in front of Sam.
"Oh, we've been on the road an awfully long time, and we're just dying of thirst," the redhead states, obviously trying her best at a "Gone With The Wind" accent. She bats her eyelashes flirtatiously. Sam smiles and laughs.
As he grabs her a glass, he says, "What can I get for ya, Mamma?" also in a southern accent.
"Oh, god. I'm not a 'Mamma'! Mammas are old. Call me Georgia," she says, her voice rising back to her flighty, high self.
"I'm Keith," Sam replies.
"Are you sure it's not Chris or Sam or something like that?" Georgia asks, examining Sam more closely, intent.
The shorthaired woman yells from across the room, seated at a table in the top right corner, "Georgia! You say that to every guy you think is hot!"
"Nicky! We're shunning each other, remember?" Georgia retorts, turning quickly to face Nic and then turns back just as fast, eyes glowing.
Sam breathes a sigh of relief. These girls can't be demons. Especially, looking to Georgia, this one. But I've been wrong before.
He shifts his weight onto his right arm, almost leaning over the counter.
"Plus! I'm right!" Georgia continues, "His name is either Chris or Sam! I just know it! Although… I don't know which one…" Her gaze shifts down towards the table, thinking. Suddenly, she stares Sam straight in the eyes.
"Which one are you?" she states, almost in a demonic tone.
Maybe I wasn't as safe as I thought, Sam thinks to himself.
"You first. Who are you?" Sam replies, unnerved; he reaches for a silver knife underneath the counter.
"I already told you, silly! My name's Georgia!" Georgia replies back, sunnily, "Are you running from the law or something? Because, I know you're name's not Keith. We promise not to turn you in! So what is it? Sam," holding out her right hand, palms up, "or Chris?" and then the left one.
Sam holds up the knife. Georgia lets out a little "eek" sound.
Georgia says, first cautiously then with more vigor, "Now is there really any need to bring weapons in to this conversation? I thought we were having a lovely chat. But I guess I was wrong. But still, even if you don't like the conversation you don't take it out on the person. Dear god, what did your parents teach you?"
Sam lowers the knife, clearly not knowing whether to stab this obnoxious girl or just let her go on with her rant.
"I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" Nic states from behind Georgia. She reaches for the knife and takes it from Sam.
"Little boys shouldn't play with knives," she says, parentally and firm. She sticks the knife into the bar, tilted sideways.
Sam" stares at the knife for a few seconds before attempting to address the girls, "Hey, I—" but his speech was lost in the bickering between the two women.
"Dang it, Nicky! I had it under control! Now you've gone and scared the poor boy!" yells Georgia.
"Oh, sure you did. How was rambling going to get you anywhere? He was going to kill you!" she sighs in exasperation, "Do you have to flirt with every guy you think is named Sam or Chris? They're T.V. show characters!"
"No, they're not! They're real people! I just have to find them!" Georgia huffs at Nic.
"One of these days, you will end up with a knife in your neck," Nic sighs and storms off back to her table. Georgia, of course, was not finished with the argument.
"I did too have everything under control! I thought he would find my rambling charming!"
Nic doesn't respond and takes out her crimson and ink-black sword from her boot, checking its edge.
"How-how did you know that my name was Sam or Chris?" Sam stammers, unnerved by Nic's predator behavior.
"Like she said before, I say that to every hot guy I meet," Georgia grins, "And because when I asked you got really nervous, surprised, shocked, and a wee bit scared."
Sam stares at her. Who are these people?
The bell to the door rings again. Sam and Georgia turn towards the door. Nic watches from afar, intent as an eagle. At the threshold, two burly men stand. One of them steps forward.
"Hello, Sam Winchester," his voice is rough and uncouth.
"Told you," Georgia whispers to Nic, who is too busy observing what is happening to notice.
The other man gestures to Nic and Georgia, "You ladies may want to get outta here."
Nic raises her blood-red blade a little higher. The man takes a half-step back. Georgia steps protectively in front of Sam, shielding him.
"No way in hell," she says firmly and defiant.
"Fine. Have it your way," the first man replies and pulls out a gun. He point it at Georgia's head. Nic silently stands from the table, unnoticed. Sam's eyes go wide in fear for Georgia. Georgia stands there, completely calm and collected.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she says.
"Yeah, well why not?" Nic comes out from behind him and hold the blade up to his throat.
She whispers in his ear, "Does the name Elizabeth Smith mean anything to you?"
The two men freeze for a moment. Nic's victim shakes involuntarily, eyes as wide as the beer glass next to him.
The second man replies, almost silent, "What about her?"
"You kill us, you become number one on her hit list. And, when you're number one on Lizzy's hit list, you're number one on everyone's hit list," Georgia says, smirking in victory. The first man lowers his gun from Georgia's forehead.
"How'd you guys know we were hunters?" the second man says, raising his gun up to Nic's head.
"I've seen you at Lizzy's store. You see, I'm Georgia. And that's Nicky."
"Nicky? You mean Nicole Stanley… Bloody Dragon?" The hilt of Nic's sword gleams the dragon crest.
"That's right," Nic replies, slow and mysterious, moving the blade close enough so that a trickle of blood runs down the man's neck.
"Uh, uh, we gotta go!" the second man exclaims and almost leaps out of the bar. Nic drops the first and glares him down. He shrinks out of the bar almost as fast as his comrade.
"Ben! Wait!"
Sam, Georgia, and Nic watch as the men drive away in their car and out of sight. Sam eventually turns to Nic and Georgia, his eyebrows knitted together, almost as if waiting for an explanation for what just happened, but none came. Georgia and Nic already began their previous discussion already.
"I told you," Nic says, "You need to stop flirting with every man you think is named Chris or Sam. It's getting ridiculous. They're just celebrity crushes."
"Oh, and your crush on Chris Hemsworth is any different?" Georgia retorts, "How many times have you seen Thor now? Six or seven?"
Nic glares at Georgia for a second, "At least, I don't flirt with every guy I know just because I think his name 'just might be' named Chris."
Georgia was just about to respond when Sam interjects, "Ok, this is not important right now. How…did those guys know you?"
Nic and Georgia, looking obviously irritated that their argument was interrupted, don't answer for a second. Nic looks to Georgia, as if directing her to speak.
"Well, like we mentioned before," Georgia starts obligingly, "we're close friends with Liz Smith," Georgia looks around her, "She's about as famous as Uncle Bobby."
"Uncle Bobby?" Sam asks incredulously, "You mean Bobby Singer?"
"Yeah, he's been our unofficial partner in all this," Nic states after a moment's hesitation and turns to Georgia, "Which reminds me, we need to get back on our lead. Let's get outta here."
"What do you mean 'lead'?" Sam asks, "Where are you going? Are you guys hunters?"
"If you're so concerned, why not come with us?" Georgia replies.
Nic rolls her eyes and says, "But, obviously, we don't need your help."
Georgia and Nic begin walking towards the doorway. Georgia takes her car keys out from her coat pocket. Sam makes a start to head out with them.
"Hey, hey, hey," Nic says, stopping Sam, "If you're going with us, you better not get in the way," she joins Georgia at the threshold, "We've got enough to worry about."
Sam meets them there and walks through, leaving them still standing at the threshold. They watch him closely. He turns around to face them.
"Don't worry," he says, "It won't be me who gets in the way."
Georgia snorts in laughter, and Nic rolls her eyes. Smiling, Sam heads to his vehicle as well. Nic and Georgia head to a nearby Chevy Cobalt.
Nic turns to Georgia and says, "I know who he is."
Georgia whips around, "Who? Who?"
"Ohh, you'll find out."