Frankly
Chapter Six
Don't be too mad about the wait. And I was looking today at the updates that all of the other writer's have been making, thinking "why won't this one specific story update? -throws stuff around-" when I realized maybe that's the reaction I'm provoking in some of you and I'm so sorry.
So...there she blows!
(I do not own Supernatural or...blah, blah, blah. You get the point.)
"Francesca! Where are y-" Dean doesn't get the chance to finish his panicked sentence, which is carried over miles and miles, probably bouncing off some satellites while it's at it, and continues to travel in one of Frankie's ears and out the other. It's utterly magic, but Frankie doesn't care.
She's clutching a pay phone with one hand and a smashed cell in the other, glancing nervously around as she tries to figure out just where she is. "Help! Dean, you've got to come get me."
"Where are you?" His breathing is erratic and she hears it, even through bad reception and panic. "Francesca, I'm serious. Where. Are. You?" He has his control freak tone of voice set firmly in place and she would've been scared of it had it been almost any other situation.
"I don't know. I don't know!" Frankie sees a shadow at the opening of the street before the machine starts to tell her to put in more quarters. "Damnit, Dean! Help. I see a bunch of old houses, like the ones...I'm on Second Street-"
The call drops.
Frankie throws the phone back at the bulky machine, glancing over her shoulder and trying to gage the shadow's distance before she starts a full out run...
She can't think, her mind too fogged. Her survival instincts are what's taken over now, and nothing but luck and adrenaline can help her now.
Her thoughts are so fogged that she doesn't think to stay on Second Street, the place where her brothers would be coming to look for her. Maybe she could make it home. It was only a short run to-everything changes, blurs, moves, shifts. She's not in Kansas anymore.
No, she's in a place where reality isn't real. It only looks real and if you get used to it, it'll chance and nothing will seem familiar again. Except some vague memory of a horror movie or two, Frankie has never laid eyes on some of the places she's been in the last few days.
Why couldn't she leave well enough alone? Or run, as Kadedra suggested? Or at least thought if a creature can suddenly appear and disappear in front of you that it can certainly tell when you're about to call your hunter brothers to snitch on it? No, no. She didn't think of that. Because that makes too much sense. 'I really need to start studying horror movies or something.'
The new reality finally stops shifting, almost as if someone has finally chosen a channel on the Television.
'A diner? Fuck it,' she thinks, finally at her wit's end. "Stop fucking with me! If you're going to end it, then end it you goddamned coward!" Screaming at the top of her lungs somehow helps.
The people in the diner don't so much as look up at her or pause in their actions. It's almost as if they didn't know she was there. She whips her head around, looking for anything out of place.
She can't find anything so she looks for the door. 'I have to get out!...Let me out.' Her thoughts end pitifully. The door is so far away, it seems, and her legs seem to be Jell-o. She's so tired, and all she can think about is live or die. Which one shall it be?
Dean didn't think he could be any more worried. Now was not the time for anything to go wrong for him, or for anyone to get in his way. In the middle of a hunt, he gets a weird call from his baby sister which dead ended in that ominous something-bad-has-happened type way.
He tried very hard to stay calm, Frankie's calls drop all the time. But this time he got a bad feeling from it, and not just in the over protective, "I-need-to-chew-her-out" way, but in the "I'm-a-hunter-and-I-know-when-something's-supernaturally-wrong" way. He knew deep down in his bones that something was wrong, and it shook him to his core.
So much so that he dropped everything mid-hunt and rushed to her home in Montana only to find that no one had seen or heard from Frankie in the two days it took the Winchesters to get there, driving virtually non-stop, from their hunt in southern Louisiana.
Search parties where out everywhere, Dean and Sam with them, when he gets a call from a number he didn't recognize. "Hello?" It's clipped, it's controlled, it's worried.
He can hear only heavy breathing and a faint "help" as the caller collects themselves. "Francesca? Where are y-"
He's interrupted and Dean's so worried he doesn't even care, he just wants his little sister back, safe and sound. "Help! Dean, you've got to come get me." The words are scared, his sister is scared. "Where are you?" He takes a deep breath when he feels the panic in his throat, choking him. "Francesca, I'm serious. Where. Are. You?"
"I don't know. I don't know!" Pause. A static sound, one that has been there through the whole call, suddenly worsens. "Damnit, Dean! Help. I see a bunch of old houses, like the ones...I'm on Second..." The static is so bad that her last few words, whatever it is that she's saying. Second? Second what?
Dean looks frantically to Sam, his eyes gleaming in what little light the searcher's flash lights are giving off. "Second? What does "second" mean?"
"Second...Second street?" Sam takes a deep breath. He's not as shaken as his brother.
Dean snaps his fingers as he turns, heading towards the Impala quickly and only pauses when he realizes Sam's not immediately behind him, but looking towards the other members of the search party as they move through the dense Montana trees. "Sam?!" His voice leaves no room for argument and Sam rushes forward, seemingly snapped out of a daze.
They reach Second Street in record time. The glass box of a pay phone booth shines in the eerie darkness.
Dean grips his gun from where it is nested in the back of his jeans. He rushes forward into the night as he hears Sam quietly get out of the vehicle.
Noting the disconnected phone hanging limply in the straight-out-of-a-horror-film phone booth, he looks up and down the street, noting that the recent rain has splashed mud all over the streets.
With hope welling up in his chest, Dean starts to check the mud for prints and only finds one, a solitary half mark angled on the curve between the road and the side walk. An alley way is ominously looming in the foot print's direction.
Dean raises his gun as he steps into the belly of the beast, fully prepared to go further down the alley in the most badass way possible when he hears the squish of fluid being stepped on. A gooey fluid and he's the one stepping on it.
Knowing that looking down and screaming about his boots could get him killed, he only spares a fleeting glance at the substance.
Only it's not mud or water or throw up from some drunk.
It's an oddly dark color, glowing almost. "What the...?"
A sick feeling gnaws at him as he realizes what the substance is.
'Fucking melted chocolate' and glow in the dark candy wrappers. Thrown out when it's owner realized his favorite snack has melted in a pocket due to body heat. Body heat caused by chasing his sister?
Only one being could be responsible for this.
Yay, for updates! A family member is in the hospital getting her surgery done and knocked-the-hell-out so I figured I'd write whilst I stay the night. Hospital couches are mighty...stiff.
ANYWHO...Reviewers :D
Guest: Aye! Thanks for the review, whoeveryouare. Thanks for the inspirational tidal waves, BTW! -bathes in the waves-
Laura: Thanks for your review! You caught my "three in the morning, oh my lord, why am I still up? MUST FINISH CHAPTER!" errors, and I appreciate it! I know that you're confused and, I don't mean to sound rude sopleasedon'ttakeitthatwayDarling, but it's kinda supposed to be like that. Where's the thrill or mystery if you know what's going on? Love you and your reviews, as always.
Guest (numero...two. I took French in high school, so shoot me.): YAY! Gabe. Love him and love you for your reviews. Looking forward to your next review, Darling ;)
SuzSinger: What you are referring to does not have an "e". The one with the "e" is a garden tool that I have no relation to. Thanks for beta reading me even though you were tired as all get out. :3
Offmytea: Oh, love your name. And I love your review! Thanks, Deary. Keep on keepin' on.
Lucifer's Daughter: And I'm looking forward to your reaction! :D Yay, for reactions and reviews. And yes, they have defiantly met.
Casisabamf: and I can't wait for your review! Thanks and stay fresh, Dawg.
Think that covers everyone. I hope it does, anyways. I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL. -goes to sleep-