Daughter of Cain

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Chapter 35: Progenitor

Vivian's POV

My mind swirled like a storm, filled with questions about my existence and the truth of who I was. I wondered if I was a cambion or an avatar, as Amara called me. The Being spoke of an avatar, an incarnation, but the idea of being a creation of Darkness was overwhelming. It was astonishing to think that Amara had a role in my existence.

It somewhat made sense, considering that I wasn't conceived in the usual manner for cambions, which typically involves the possession of a virgin. No, Cain was still in his own body, and Colette was neither a maiden but a widow when she met Cain. None of this truly adds up. I believe that Cain's status as a Hell Knight in his own body allowed him to defy traditional norms of conception. I also thought that Cain, being the host of the Mark, played a role in this.

Only Amara created me. Was I even Cain and Colette's child? Was I truly a Cambion? If only I had met other Cambions to understand how I differ from them. However, Cambions are extremely rare because angels view us as a threat.

I was overwhelmed when gentle hands cupped my face, breaking the trance. I looked up to see Amara's youthful form. She resembled me, but not precisely; her black irises concealed her emotions, yet she wore a caring smile.

"We're together again," Amara murmured. "We will always be together."

I pulled away and glanced around, trying to determine where we were. I realized we were in the cabin in Alaska. I blinked, trying to understand how we had ended up here. A sense of dread filled me, for this small sanctuary was haunted by dark memories and death.

"I asked you to take me somewhere safe," Amara said. "You found this place safe, which I understand."

"This place is not safe," I whispered, still lethargic.

Amara hummed as she went to the window, "Oh, how I missed nature."

I stared at her.

"I was destruction; whatever I touched would be destroyed," she explained. "Life in and of itself. But when God made nature, I was able to touch it, and nothing happened. The grass, the flowers, nor the trees wilted or rotted. It inspired me to create as I made the night sky, the storms, and the volcanos. Natural destruction. For what has been destroyed can be reborn again."

She turned to face me, "However, humans are complicated. They did not exist when...when I was imprisoned."

The Being mentioned that she can create. I was under the impression that nature and life are two separate things.

She gave me a smile, "You have a lot of questions."

I took a deep breath.

Amara made her way over as she sat beside me, "As do I."

I shook my head, trying to get up, yet Amara grabbed my arm, forcing me down.

"You were told many things about me," she noted. "Some were not kind, making me out as an evil incarnate."

I took a deep breath, not saying a word.

"Let's start with the simple question," she offered.

There is nothing simple about this.

"You said you are my progenitor," I finally said.

Amara nodded with a sincere smile, "Yes. I did."

I shook my head, "My parents are Cain and Colette. You did not make me."

Amara sighed as she took my hand, "But I did."

I shook my head, pulling my hand away. "You didn't. I am a cambion, half demon, half human."

Amara snorted, "Demons would not exist without me."

I narrowed my eyes.

Amara let out a dramatic sigh. "When my brother locked me away, he entrusted Lucifer with the Mark. I was imprisoned in an illusion of an empty abyss, feeling alone, angered, and betrayed by my brother and his archangels. In that void, I experienced everything, able to see to some extent. I could sense Lucifer; in his selfish ambition, he used my powers to create demons. However, in that cage, his powers weakened and became dormant. But when I was in Cain, your father, I was still able to feel it, although Lucifer's influence made the Mark more murderous."

"So, you didn't make the curse?" I asked.

A frown formed on her lips. "I wanted to break free, and I do what I can to achieve that. In moments of weakness, when light and darkness intersect, have I succeeded in reaching out and communicating with those who are receptive? I can influence them, but I cannot fully communicate."

"The Book of the Damned," I whispered.

Amara nodded, "But that is not what we are talking about."

If black eyes can grow darker, they do now.

She held my hand again. Over time, I became lonely and tried to create to fill my empty void. There was stone beneath my feet, and the skies were filled with storms. But it was not enough, for it had been just God and me. As the Cosmic Entity preferred their slumber, I felt increasingly isolated. In my loneliness, I became furious, unleashing my powers into the void in an attempt to break free. I sought revenge on my brother and the archangels who had locked me away."

If black eyes can grow darker, I have seen it now.

"In my attempts, I saw a spark," she murmured, her hands playing with my fingers. "I grabbed it, thinking it was my brother—a message from him. But it was not. In the flicker, it was warm, alive with a pulse, only to fade away. I wanted it back. I needed it back. So, I tried again, pouring all my energy into capturing the spark. Eons passed as I worked until I finally held an orb made of my essence. I cradled it, feeling its warmth and pulse, knowing I had created something that was not destruction. I attempted to shape it, to form a companion, but the orb did not take shape. So, I simply held onto it."

I stared at her as she played with my fingers.

"Even though it was one-sided, I felt like the orb understood me, the way its pulsed." She said, then entwined my fingers with hers. "It was mine."

I inhale sharply.

"However, I knew that God would try to take it away one day. He sees himself as a means of creation," she explained. "And I seek revenge. Therefore, I needed to create an avatar, an incarnation of myself. I waited until Cain was vulnerable, though thousands of years passed before the opportunity arose. Sensing his desire to kill dwindle and a warm feeling beginning to take hold, I took the chance and sent in the orb, planting a potent seed into a barren womb."

I sat there grasping this.

"Cain and Colette are your blood parents, for they made your flesh, but I am your soul progenitor." She continued.

"So, I am not a cambion," I whispered.

Amara tilted her head, "I don't know what that is."

"A person who is half demon and half human," I said quietly, looking down.

Amara cradled my face, saying, "You are more than that. You are my avatar, the embodiment of darkness in human flesh, my first creation of life."

I stared at her, eyes widened, "An avatar."

Amara smiled, "A part of a deity, an incarnation, embodiment, or manifestation of a person. You are a part of me, as I am a part of you."

I stood up, creating distance, "You lie."

"Why would I lie?" She asked, sitting there. "I made you. You are more than a cambion. You are my avatar."

"Stop saying that!" I practically yelled. " I am a cambion, a daughter of Cain."

"Maybe that is your flesh, but you are an incarnation of darkness," she said. "Your demon half is made from my darkness. Your soul is made from my power."

"My soul is grey," I shouted.

"Only because of your human blood," she countered. "The blood of Colette, as well as the blood of your foremothers."

I panted, absorbing the revelation that the blood of Eve and her two daughters flowed in my veins. I shook my head, believing this was an opportunity to teleport. I attempted to do so but halted midway. Composing myself, I tried teleport again but felt completely grounded. My eyes widened as I noticed Amara staring at me.

"As I said before, you and I will be together again," Amara said. "I let you go so you can grow."

She stood up and cradled my face. "I gave you up so you could explore this world. So, you could help me get my revenge. Together, we could make this world better without suffering."

"Life is suffering," I whispered.

"But does it have to be," She murmured. "But if you do not help me find God, then I will consume it so we can be one."

She opened her mouth. What I felt was hard to describe; it was as if I were choking on air and vomiting at the same time. My chest tightened as my instincts screamed at me to fight, but my body was paralyzed. A grey, shimmering mist escaped from my mouth. She pulled back before it could reach her lips, and the silver mist returned to my body.

My body collapsed, and I fell to the ground, panting. I realized the silver mist was my soul and that Amara had almost eaten it. Hearing all that Dean and Sam encounter with Soulless made from Amara, they become functional psychopaths who are not afraid to kill. Imagine a creation like myself without a soul. I would become a monster, just like holding the First Blade.

"You understand now," Amara murmured. "I want us to do this together, as progenitor and offspring."

I panted, still grasping the fact that I almost lost my soul.

Amara knelt as she held my face once more, "You will help me understand this world and find God."

I stared at her black irises.

Two empty voids of nothing.

.o0o.

Amara stood outside the cabin, gazing into the forest as the rain began to fall. A storm was brewing in the distance. She removed her boots and buried her feet in the soil, closing her eyes with a smile as the rain soaked her.

Standing out there in the rain brought back a vivid memory of my childhood. I could faintly recall a tall woman in a dark dress beside me saying that the rain would wash away one's sorrows, even if only for a moment. Then Cain would come, pick me up, and carry me inside when the storms rolled in.

Learning about my parentage was overwhelming. I glanced at my hands and noted that the markings were still there. I tried to transform back into my human form, but Amara was keeping me from doing so. I took several deep breaths, struggling to come to terms with the truth.

A body of a cambion, but an avatar.

An avatar of darkness.

I need to escape this place or find a way to stop Amara. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to kill her. When I took the demon blade, I gathered all my strength to end her life, even willing to break my sacred vow to protect those I care about and the world. But as the tip of the blade touched Amara's chest, I felt invisible shackles take hold of me. My body fought against the urge to kill her while simultaneously wanting to stop.

Was this how Dean felt when he was a demon and tried to kill me? I don't know what to do?

I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. I had tried to teleport out of here many times, but my feet felt rooted to the ground. Amara had bound me to her, which meant I couldn't leave unless she permitted it. I glanced around, searching the area for the truck, but unfortunately, it wasn't there. My gaze shifted to the shed, and I felt my body tense.

My chest tightens as if the ash dagger was being stabbed in my chest once more. Although time had passed, there was a faint scent of death in the air. When I went over, I forced the doors open, empty of bodies, yet the blood stains on the slab of concrete were followed by the walls. Only the bodies were gone, yet the remnant of that terrible day was here.

"Vivian."

I turned around, expecting to see Cain, but instead, it was Amara. She stood there, confused, tilting her head as she stared at me and then the shed. She reached out toward me, but I pulled away, creating distance between us. I grabbed my head, trying to calm myself, but I realized this place was no longer safe.

Too many dark memories here:

A broken trust.

To be poisoned.

To be in a coma for two weeks.

To be cursed.

All by my father.

"Vivian," Amara murmured.

"I need to leave," I ground out. "I can't stay here."

Amara frowned as she looked at the shed, "Was this place a prison for you?"

I shook my head, "No, but I was betrayed here, and it brings back terrible memories."

Amara took this information in and placed her hands on my shoulder. "Then let's go."

My eyes widened when hearing this.

Amara smiled sincerely.

.o0o.

Being of sound mind, I managed to teleport us somewhere more comfortable. However, I was still tense about the Darkness that accompanied me. I felt tied to her as if an invisible shackle bound me.

I own an apartment building in the city, and the top floor is reserved for my personal use, while the other floors are rented out to tenants. I hardly ever use the top floor and rely on a manager to take care of the building and its utilities using the rental funds. The tenants are mostly elderly individuals who are too proud to move into nursing homes. I remember that one floor was occupied by nurses and resident doctors who checked on the elderly residents in exchange for reduced rent. The air felt stuffy as I approached the window to open it.

"We should be good here," I said.

Amara made her way over to the window, staring out and seeing the skyscrapers.

"Where are we?" Amara asked.

"The city is called Seattle," I said. "It rains a lot here."

"Seattle," Amara murmured.

I took a deep breath. "Listen, I know Crowley put limitations on your…diet…but the people here… are off limits."

Amara stared at me, "How so?"

I tried to find the right words to explain why I have been lenient with the tenants here and why I don't make a profit from this building. These people are important to me.

"Tell me," She ordered firmly.

The words came out of my mouth, "They are people I knew in the Vietnam war."

Amara tilted her head.

I panted, covering my mouth.

Was that how demons felt when I demanded information? I thought, horrified.

"You were in war?" she asked.

"I was born during a time of war," I replied. "I have experienced two World Wars in my lifetime. I served as a nurse in the Vietnam War. The residents here were soldiers or nurses with nowhere else to turn. I created this place as a sanctuary for them. Please do not feed off their souls or anything like that."

Amara narrowed her eyes.

"Look, I can cook food, and I know you are powerful enough to prevent me from stopping you," I said. "But please, leave them be."

The Darkness took a deep breath, "I will try."

I heave a heavy sigh.

"But I am hungry," she added.

I tensed when hearing this.

"Crowley mainly fed me sweets," she said. "I want to try other foods."

I sighed in relief, "You want real food."

"Aren't sweets real food?" she asked.

"It is, but…." I tried to find my words. "Sweets contain sugar; it is what makes them sweet. However, too much of it is not good for one's health or stomach."

Maybe giving Amara real food would curve her hunger for a bit. That is when I realized that even possessing a body, a divine entity needs to eat.

"Can you taste food?" I asked.

"I do, and the body I possess needs to eat," she answered. "At least until I reach my full potential."

I nodded, thinking of a plan, "Why don't you stay here?" I went to the television, relieved that the manager kept the cable. "And watch some TV. I'll get some food—real hot food. It's one way to learn about the world."

Amara stared at me with curiosity before she made her way over to the couch and sat down. It seemed that Crowley or one of his demons had shown her how to use the television as she began channel surfing. I tried to act casual before heading downstairs, taking the back stairs, and slipping into an alley. I leaned against the wall, panting and realizing that I was still alive.

I pulled out my cellphone to call the Winchesters but cursed when I found it was dead. Frustrated, I cursed again, realizing I needed to get a charger. Thus I conjured some sunglasses and walked.

Quickly, I went to the nearest convenience store to get a charger and adaptor. I need to contact Dean to let him know that I am still alive and to let him know my location. If I can stall Amara long enough, the guys can get here, and we can trap her or something.

Knowing Amara was expecting food, I stopped at a nearby grocery store. I could have gone to a restaurant, but I wasn't sure what foods Amara liked. So, making something simple might help to gain her favor. Along with a bottle of whiskey, I seriously needed a hard drink after everything that had happened.

When I returned, I found Amara still watching TV. From a quick glance, it was a Kardashian show that seemed to intrigue her. Taking this distraction, I went to the kitchen to put groceries away and start cooking. I put my phone on the charger and poured myself a drink. I chugged the first glass before pouring myself a second. As it charged, I started cooking, though my impatience was wearing thin.

After a few moments, the phone had enough juice to turn on. Luckily, I had put it on mute, so it did not turn on with the ringtone. I took a deep breath as I quietly tried to type.

"What are you making?" Amara asked, appearing by my side.

I tensed and turned to face her. "Well, I was planning on making meat, potatoes, and veggies on the side—something simple."

Amara nodded until she spotted my glass. Then, she picked it up, examined the amber liquid, and took a sip. She gagged and dropped the glass, which I grabbed.

"What is that?" She gagged.

I set the glass down and got her a glass of water, "Whiskey."

"Why does it burn?" she asked, chugging the water down.

"It doesn't actually burn," I explained. "It's the alcohol."

"And people drink it?" she asked.

I gave a chuckle, "Alcohol, yes, though people have different preferences for it. Like I prefer whiskey or bourbon now and then."

Amara scrunched her nose, "I don't like it."

"Not many do," I assured. "It's an acquired taste."

Amara nodded, looking at the counter and picking up a potato. "Can I help?"

I mentally groaned, yet kept a mask on, "No, I'm good. You seem to enjoy your show."

She snorted, "More like stupidity. Do people actually enjoy these Kardashians?"

"Some do, others don't, it's a preference," I explained.

Amara nodded, "Is there a show you like?"

"I barely watch TV," I said, trying to get her to leave.

Amara frowned slightly and smiled, "You enjoyed reading. You were reading a fairytale book. You practice reading to me. The last story is about a little girl who wore a red hood being chased by a wolf."

"Little Red Riding Hood," I mumbled.

Amara nodded with a fond smile, "When you grew up, and our bond severed, I tried to recall those stories. When I was under Uncle Crowley's care, the Brothers' Grimm was the first book I read—fairytales and fables, tales we read together."

I force a nod, letting her talk and diverting her away from my phone. Luckily, the screen went to sleep, preventing her from seeing who I was attempting to contact. I tried to distract her by cooking and keeping her away from the phone.

The phone vibrated, the screen flashing to show it was Dean. Before I could grab it, Amara took hold of the phone and looked at it. She stared at me and then back at the phone. Without saying a word, Amara crushed the phone in her hand.

My eyes widened when I saw this.

"I want time with you before Dean joins us," Amara said.

I open my mouth to speak, then shut it.

"Now, let's get back to cooking," Amara murmured.

Either she knew and was toying with me, or Amara was that naïve and wanted to spend time.

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