Tag Archives: short story

Flipped




Written for the SPN Amino apps’ What If? Weekend Challenge. (What if Jess went with Sam when Dean picked him up at school?) Coda to Pilot.

Written: 18.01.20

Words: 325

SamxJess


“Jess, this isn’t a discussion, you’re not coming.”

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean ran his eyes over her body, “I think it’d be fun being in a car with her.”

Now I really regret not wearing long sleeves, she crossed her arms over her chest, suppressing an eye roll when Deans’ face fell. Sam starred at his brother, how can you be thinking like that right now?

He shook his head, turning back to his girl, “It’s too dangerous, if something were to happen to you-”

“Too dangerous?” She strode over to the closet, beginning to stuff clothes in a bag, “So what? I get to stay here worrying about you? Not happening.”

“Yeah, Sammy, how is that fair?”

Jess scoffed, no way in hell am I leaving him alone with that.

“Dean can you please just-”

“Okay, okay, geez. I was just trying to help,” she heard Dean grumble as he made his way to the door, “I’ll be in the car.”

The door slammed shut, and now it was just her and Sam. She didn’t bother turning or stopping packing, “Do you really think I’m going to let you do anything dangerous alone with him?”

“Jess,” he padded over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder, how can I make you understand? “I-I can’t lose you.”

She closed her eyes, why do you have to use that voice? She took a breath before spinning around, “Sam-” she cut herself off as she saw his puppy dog eyes starring back at her, you’re not making this easy, “You think I could lose you?”

He blinked, puppy eyes disappearing, as if he didn’t think of that, she placed a kiss on his cheek, “I need to know you’re safe.”

He sighed, looking defeated, “I won’t let anything happen to, I promise.”

She smiled before turning around him, making her way to the door, he’s so over-dramatic. We’re just finding his dad, how dangerous could it be?


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Countdown




Happy New Year!

This is the last fic of the year! Next fic will be posted Jan. 11th

NFF

Words: 826


Okay, tonight’s the night, we’ve been dancing around each other all year, he felt his palms get sweaty as he tried to psyche himself up, starring at the girl from across the room. It’s New Years Eve for Christs’ sake, people always kiss on New Years… don’t they? He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants, okay, here we go.

He took a step forward, before being stopped by his – extremely drunk – friend, Pete.

“Hey, Dave!” even over the blaring music he could tell his friend was yelling, “You kiss ‘er yet?”

The brunette promptly smacked his hand across Petes’ mouth and dragged him a few feet away, shaking his head, “Can you keep your voice down?”

Pete nodded, eyes wide with surprise. He removed his hand, before immediately looking back at the girl. Pete turned to look before letting out a huff, “You ain’t just gonna stare at ‘er all night, are ya?”

“No,” Dave shifted his weight, “I’m gonna kiss her. At midnight.”

“At midnight?” Pete let out a bark of a laugh, “That’s some rom-com shit, ya know that?”

“No it’s not,” He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling his cheeks heat up, “People kiss at midnight all the time.”

“Yeah,” Pete swayed slightly on his feet, wrapping an arm over his shoulders’, “If they’re goin’ out, maybe. Not out of the blue. That’s just weird,” he took another swig from his cup, looking at the girl with a sigh, “Kissin’ a stranger at midnight… pfft…”

Dave chewed his lip, maybe he’s right, maybe… wait, why am I taking his advice? He flicked his eyes back to his friend, “How would you know?”

Pete blinked in confusion, “Huh?”

“How would you know what’s weird? You’ve never kissed a girl before.”

“Dave, my man,” Pete turned so he was standing directly in front of him, “Ya don’t gotta kiss ‘em to do other stuff,” he wiggled his eyebrows, shit-eating grin splitting his face, “know what I’m saying?”

“Ugh,” Dave pushed his arm off him, “You’re disgusting.”

Pete shrugged, stumbling away, “But I’m right!”

“Here we go everybody!” The whole place went silent and everyone turned their gazes’ to the clock, “10!”

Dave shook his head, it’s almost midnight already? Shit. He took a deep breath before starting toward her, here goes nothing.




 

She spotted him halfway across the room, starring at her. She quickly looked away, unable to help but smile, please come over, please come over, please come over…

“Hello? Emily?”

She turned back to her friend, hiding the blush by taking a drink, “Sorry, what?”

Lola rolled her eyes, “Of course you weren’t listening,” she flicked her eyes over to the boy before sighing, “This is getting ridiculous. Just go talk to him!”

“I can’t!” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, “We haven’t really talked all year and then suddenly I want to kiss him at midnight? It’d be too weird.”

“You what?” Lolas’ face lit up, “You want him to kiss you at midnight?”

“What? No, I didn’t-”

“Shay! Katy, get over here!” Lola all but pulled their two friends to the ground with her force, “She wants him to kiss her at midnight!”

“Aaawww!”

Emily sighed, oh great… all three girls starred at her expectantly, “… Must we?”

“Yes.”

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to another, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” Katy shrieked, “Your first kiss ever is on New Year’s Eve at midnight?” she touched her heart, “It’d be so cute!”

Emily pretended to vomit, before giving her a pointed look.

“Oh, come on, Em,” Shay gave her a pointed look, “You can’t act like you aren’t excited.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Here we go everybody! 10!”

“You’re allowed to get butterflies when you like a boy, y’know,” Lola placed her hands on her shoulders, dropping her voice, “You are a girl.”

“9!”

“Get off of me,” she slipped out from under her hands before shrugging, “I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal about this-”

“8!”

“We haven’t even talked the whole party, and it’s practically midnight. It’s not gonna happen, so just forget it.”

“7!”

The girls’ faces fell but they all nodded. They all wrapped her up in a hug, and she fought the sudden wave of sadness that washed over her.

“6!”

Emily shook her head, trying to shake the sadness away as she turned her attention to the clock, “5!”

Guess there’s always next year.

“4!”

She felt a tap on her shoulder, heart stopping as she saw Dave, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. “Uhm… hi.”

“3!”

“A-are you okay? Do you need something?” She swore she could hear her heart hammering against her chest.

“2!”

He took a deep breath, before nodding to himself. He grabbed the sides of her face, sending a shiver down her spine, oh my God…

“1!”


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Puppy Love

Prompt from Rebekah: (17.11.13): Dean ‘saves’ puppy from streets. Sam can’t believe it but it makes him happy – Sam ends up taking care – Dean cuddles and pictures

Sorry this took me forever (and that I veered off the prompt), but I hope you liked!

Gen. Sam/Dean.

Words: 1,075


“Hey, uh, Dean?”

“What?” The blonde came around the corner to see Sam standing with his back to the door, his hands on hips, “Jesus, Sam! You couldn’t have showered first?” Dean covered his nose with his shirt, almost gagging on the post-run Sam stench.

“What the hell is this?” The giant half turned to face the elder who’d stopped in the doorway.

“What’s-” The eldest cut himself off as he was knocked to the floor by a pile of fur and slobber, “Cassandra!” He chuckled as the dog continued her assault on his face.

After the warm welcome he received the dog sat down directly in front of him as he climbed back to his feet, tail making a dull thud, thud against the floor.

Sam cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow expectantly, “Well?”

“… It’s a dog,” Dean patted her head before moving to the couch, the dog following obediently, “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I can see it’s a dog. I mean why is it here?”

“Oh… y’know…” The eldest rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, “She,” he sighed and shook his head, “she peed on my car.”

“… So you decided to bring her home?” Sam moved to follow his brother, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Look, I just…” he bit his lip and turned his eyes toward the furry being, starring up at him with her big eyes, “I tried shooing her away, but she didn’t listen. I opened the door and she just hopped right in like she owned the place. I figured, if I was gonna be stuck with her, I might as well feed her. She really needed it, too,” he pet her head softly, “You should’ve seen her, Sam, she was all skin and bone.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, “I thought you didn’t like dogs?”

Dean stood, hands balling into fists at his sides, “So what? You think I’d just let her starve to death?”

“Wha…? No, of course not! I was just surprised.” Sam eyed his brother, why are you being so defensive?

The blonde noticed the look on his brothers’ face and scoffed, before heading off into the other room, Cassandra following suit, “Leave it alone, Sam.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Good,” his brother stopped in the doorway, “Take a shower, will ya? We’re already gonna have to burn the couch!”

 




 

Sam stood under the spray of the water, gears in his head turning, why is he so obsessed with keeping the dog? He soaped up his body, turning so the water cascaded down his back, you’re using it – her- to fill something, I just don’t- his eyes widened as he made the connection, Cassandra! You’re using her to replace Cas!

“Well look who finally made the connection.”

The voice made him jump and rip the curtain open, eyes wild until he spotted the blonde perched on the toilet seat. Sam tilted his head to the side, allowing the water to wash the soap from his chest, leave me alone.

“C’mon, Sam. We never talk anymore,” the giant stiffened as he saw the devils’ shadow get up and make his way to the curtain, “we gotta make the most of our alone time.”

You’re not real, you’re not real… He pressed on the scar on his palm, squeezing his eyes shut. He opened them and sighed in relief as the devil was nowhere in sight. He finished his shower quickly and toweled off, swinging the bathroom door open, stopping in the doorway as he saw the dog a few feet away, just starring at him.

“What the hell?” He walked a few paces closer, hoping to get to his bedroom, when it started growling at him, “Uh… Dean?”

“What?”

The giant got closer to the dog, and it got up, before barring its’ teeth at him, beginning to growl. Sam stopped cold, halfway to his bedroom, what the hell? He held his one hand out, but dropped it back to his side when the dog began barking, “Dean?”

His brothers’ head poked out from around the corner, and immediately the dog ran over to him, demeanor changing completely. The blonde laughed and began petting her, while raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Sam stood there, shocked, “… Did you not just see how angry she was?”

“Angry?” His brother looked between the happy, tail-wagging dog and his brother for a moment, “…. This dog?”

“Yes, Dean, that one,” he took a step forward and the dog moved in front of Dean, beginning to growl again, “See?”

“Whoa, what did you do to her?”

Sams’ jaw dropped, he thinks I did something to her? “Nothing! I just came out of the shower and she was sitting there watching me.”

“Pfft,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “She’s probably just protecting me.”

“Dean, I’m your brother,” he took another step toward the pair, ignoring the volume increase in the dogs’ growls, “she doesn’t need to protect you from me.”

Dean eyed him before disappearing around the corner, returning a moment later with a container of water, and a silver knife.

Sam snorted, “Dean, what…?”

His brother shrugged, handing the objects out to him, “Dogs are good at telling if a person is a threat.”

“Dud, c’mon, it’s me.

“She didn’t have a problem with my brother when he came back from his run.”

I’m your brother.”

“Prove it,” he wiggled the items in his hands.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, before grabbing the items, “Fine.” He took a swig from the holy water before pressing the silver knife against his forearm, raising an eyebrow at his brother, “Happy now? It’s still me.”

“Christo.”

Sam rolled his eyes before looking back to his brother expectantly.

“Okay, fine, you’re you.”

“Thank-you,” he went forward a few more steps and the dog began barking, “Dude, seriously?”

Dean shot her a look and she ran down the hall, stopping around what sounded like the front door. The blonde turned back to his brother with a smirk, “What can I say? Chicks dig me.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he made his way to his room, “Just train her.”

Dean gave a half-smile and shrugged, “Who woulda guessed?”

The giant stopped in his doorway, giving his brother a look.

Dean chuckled as he walked away, “Looks like your bad luck with women isn’t exclusive to humans.”


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Candy Coma




Words: 1,122

Wee!Chesters


“You can not where that.”

Sammys’ face fell, and he took the dollar store fangs out of his mouth, “B-but why?”

“Pfft, what do you mean why? Because we-” Dean caught himself. He took a moment, raking his brain for an acceptable excuse, and gestured vaguely at the costume, “It’s… y’know…”

The youngest frowned and looked down at himself, hands tightening into fists around the cape, “It’s the only costume we have.”

“Sorry, Sammy, it’s just…,” he strode a few paces to one of the beds, trying to swallow down the guilt he was feeling, “Dad would freak if he saw it.”

“Why?”

The blonde flopped himself down, starring at the ceiling while letting out a heavy sigh, “Cause, Sammy he just…” how am I supposed to explain this without telling him? “… doesn’t like Halloween.”

“But why?”

“Because he just doesn’t, okay?” Dean waved a dismissive hand toward his brother, “Now, go… do whatever it is you do.”

His brother cast his gaze to the floor, hands wrapping the cape tighter around himself, “But you said we could go Trick Or Treating.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, damn it, “I don’t know if I want to go. I’m tired.”

“… You said we could finally go this year.”

“I know, and now I’m saying I don’t wanna,” he paused, lifting his head to look at his brother, “It’s not like the people here will have candy, anyway.”

“But… but,” the disappointment in his brothers’ voice pulled at his heart strings, “You promised!”

Dean shook his head, flopping it back against the pillow, “I know I promised, but things change,” he sat up, “Did you really think Dad was gonna let you go anyway?”

The youngests’ eyes were brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering. His brows creased in anger, hands falling away from his cape, before he stamped his foot, “Fine!” and made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and got off the bed, padding over to the bathroom, “C’mon, Sammy, don’t be like that.”

“Go away!”

“Sammy-”

“Leave me alone!”

Dean crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to the door, “What’s your plan here, exactly? Lock yourself in the bathroom and miss Halloween altogether?”

“… It doesn’t matter!”

The blonde closed his eyes and failed to swallow the lump in his throat at his brothers’ tone – it was obvious he was crying. He sighed before turning his eyes to the clock, 7:30pm, he knocked softly on the door, “Dude, if you don’t come out of there you are gonna miss it. It’s already seven-thirty.”

“I don’t care!”

Dean huffed in annoyance, “Fine! Stay in there all night, then! See if I care! But when Dad gets back, you’re gonna have to explain to him that I stayed behind and we didn’t end up going out!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” The blonde stomped away from the bathroom, grabbing his coat off the bed, “If you’re just gonna stay in there all night,” he stomped to the motel door, hand on the knob, “then I’m gonna go out and have some fun! Alone!

 




 

Stupid Sammy, Dean kicked at a rock as he walked down the street, why does he have to be such a brat all the time? He crossed the street, taking out a cigarette, and lighting up, he should’ve known- Deans’ head whipped up as he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala, shit, he stamped out the cigarette as the car came into view.

He turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could back to the motel, praying to whoever was up there that he’d be able to beat his father home.

 

 

“Sammy?” Dean burst through the door, thanking his lucky stars his dad stopped at that convenience store, eyes immediately scanning the place for the mop of messy brown hair. “Sammy?” His heartbeat was in his throat as he searched the small room, not finding his brother. Shit-shit-shit-shit, where would he be? He knows better then to go out alone.

He surveyed the area, making sure his brother wasn’t there, before turning back to the door, surprised to hear a key in the lock. Damn, that was fast. What the hell am I supposed to tell Dad? He backed up a few steps, stealing himself against the giant as the door opened.

“Sammy?”

The brunette beamed at his brother, struggling with a large pillow case, that was practically overflowing with candy, “Look, Dean! I got so much!”

“That, uh, that’s great, Buddy,” Dean eyed the pillow case, eyebrows shooting up as he saw full-sized chocolates, “Where did you get these?”

His brother dumped the candy out over one of the beds, not looking up, “Here.”

“Here?” Dean was confused, he didn’t think people at the motel would’ve had candy.

Sammy shrugged without looking up, “Yeah, they felt bad because I had to go Trick or Treating alone… and since a lot of them didn’t think they’d get kids here, they had to give me candy out of the vending machine.”

You clever little… Dean whistled, impressed with his brother. He went over to the bed, looking over everything he’d got, “You’re one smart kid, you know that?”

Sammys’ grin widened as he climbed on the bed, beginning to sort out his candy, “I know.” Dean reached for one and was surprised when his brother slapped his hand away. At the look he gave him, the brunette shrugged, “You didn’t come with me, you don’t get any.”

“Wha-?” Dean eyed the pile, going to sit on the edge of the bed, “You can’t seriously- ”

Just then, John burst through the door, looking pissed. He was almost caked in mud from head to toe. He sighed heavily as he kicked the door closed, carefully taking his jacket off. He kicked off his boots before glancing at the boys, eyes widening as he saw his youngests’ spoils.

“Wow, Sammy, you did good tonight, huh?” John glanced at the other bed, pausing, “Dean… you didn’t get any candy?”

Dean shrugged, trying to calm his beating heart, “I’m too old for that, Dad.”

“Oh…” John gave a half smile before moving to the bathroom, turning the shower on.

“Can’t I just have one?” Dean leaned over the bed, doing his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Hmm,” his brother brought a hand to his chin, pretending to think, “Nope.”

“Dude, c’mon. There’s no way you can eat all that by yourself.”

Sammy picked up one of the bigger chocolate bars, not breaking eye contact with his brother as he took his time taking the wrapper off, bringing it to his lips, mischievous grin on his face, “Watch me.”


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The Tattoo Killer

This years’ Halloween fic, enjoy.

Words: 3,027


He wiped at the skin one final time, turning his tattoo needle off before inspecting his work. He nodded to himself, perfect. He placed the needle down, before wiping his hands with the rag, moving over toward the sink, half-turning to the girl in the chair, “Let’s get you prepped.”

 

 

“Where is he?” The detective burst through the door, eyes immediately going to the board.

Randy, his next in command, shook his head, eyes not meeting his boss’, “Had the right location , but it looked like we missed him by about an hour.”

“An hour?” The detective scrubbed a hand down his face, damn, “Do we have any leads on a connection?”

“Not yet, but Jims’ working on it.”

Frank nodded, “Good,” he turned from the board to face the other man, “Go get started on tracking down a back-up location. This guys’ on his way to becoming a serial killer, and I’d rather nab him before that.”

Randy nodded before rushing out the door. Frank eyed the board, you’re not getting the satisfaction, fucker.

 

 

“No, please!” The blonde thrashed against the straps pinning her to the chair.

“Sh, sh, sh,” his expression softened as he pet her hair, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m not gonna kill you.”

She stopped struggling and glared at him, “Then why am I tied to a chair?”

He tsk-ed before getting up, moving to the tray that held his tools, rearranging some of them, keeping his back to her, “I have something much more special planned for you.”

“Special?” She craned her neck, trying to get a look at the tray in front of him, “W-what are you gonna do to me?”

“Nothing…” he turned from the tray, opting to sit on the stool in the corner, “yet.”

 

 

How are you choosing them? Frank starred at the board, eyes roaming over the descriptions of the two vics – with the exception that they were both women, they couldn’t be more different – different eye colour, hair, height, weight, nationality, social status – everything. He brought his coffee cup up to his lips, why can’t I see it? he went to take a swig, looking surprised when he found it empty. He sighed as he got up, going over to the small kitchenette in the corner, they’re never actually random, there has to be something they have in common. He poured another cup, replacing the pot before heading back to the board, eyes catching as he passed one of the desks. Wait, he picked up a picture of one of his men, eyes instantly going to the tattoo that peaked out of the top of the shirt.

He immediately charged back to the board, eyes roaming over the autopsy photos, while he dug his phone out of his pocket.

“H’lo?”

“Tattoos.”

“… huh?” He heard Randy stifle a yawn, “What time is it?”

“I found the connection,” his eyes were glued to the two girls photos, “each vic had a tat – that’s how he’s choosing them.”

“What kind? A rose? Snake? Butterfly?”

“They’re different pictures,” he studied the photos carefully, “but something about them must bother him. That’s the only connection.”

He heard a sigh on the other end of the line, “Well, it’s not exactly like we can round up every woman who has a tattoo and bring her to the precinct.”

“Any chance Jim is still here?”

“At 3a.m.? I doubt it. But look, Frank, the guys’ not gonna-”

Frank pulled the phone away from his ear, groaning as he watched the low battery sign flash before the screen went black. Shoving it back into his pocket, he studied the pictures of the women, looking between the two tattoos, what am I missing?

 

 

She huffed out a tired sigh, why is he just sitting there? She tried moving again, not surprised when she was met with the binding force of the straps holding her down. I have to find a way out of here, she rested her head against the chair, starring at the ceiling, what am I supposed to- her eyes caught on a drip in the corner of the room, would that work? She turned her eyes back to him, would he buy it?

“E-excuse me, Sir?”

He didn’t bother to turn, rude, “I was just wondering… since we’re not doing anything… do you think I could go to the bathroom?”

“Bathroom?” His back straightened, hands stopping whatever they were doing.

She failed to swallow the lump forming in her throat, “Y-yeah. Y’know, a bathroom? Usually has a toilet and sink?”

He half turned, “Why would you need to go to a bathroom?”

She rolled her eyes, “Gee, I don’t know,” he swerved his stool around to face her, eyes dark, her heart skipped a beat, “I-I need to pee.”

His eyebrows went up, as if he’d never considered that before, this guy kidnaps people and straps them to a chair but doesn’t know what to do if they need to pee? He nodded to himself before getting up, coming over to where she was bound. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs off the tray, before beginning to undo the straps. I can’t believe he’s actually buying this, her heart sped up, beating harder against her chest, now all I have to do is time this right… She chewed her lip as he undid the straps, carefully placing a knee on her as they fell.

“Hold up your hands.”

She complied, getting her good first look at the room as he clicked the cuffs around her wrists. Her eyes immediately went to the tray, hoping for a weapon, but finding small bottles of paint and a needle, is that… tattoo supplies? Her eyes went to the table against the opposite wall, it was littered with drawings, was he… gonna tattoo me? What the fuck?

He roughly grabbed her by the elbow, hoisting her off the chair before pulling her toward the door. They entered a hallway, and she instantly felt the temperature drop, wind, she looked to her left and saw a ladder resting against the far wall, please let that be a door. He shoved her into a small bathroom, standing at the entrance before looking at her expectantly.

She reached for the door, but was stopped by a hand on her wrist, his expression stern, “The door stays open.”

“I can’t pee if you’re watching.”

He rolled his eyes before turning around, so he was facing out into the hall, “Better?”

“Hardly.”

“If you don’t want to pee I’ll just-”

“No! No, it’s fine,” she went over to the toilet, sitting on it, “Just… don’t look, okay?”

“I promise.”

She kept her eyes on him, as she gathered her hair on the top of her head, wrapping it up in a secure bun. Now the hard part, she turned on the seat, carefully lifting the lid to the toilet tank up, don’t drop it, don’t drop it, she got it into her lap and sighed in relief. Okay, she got up, steeling herself against what she was about to do. She could swear she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Doing her best to keep her breathing even, she got up from the seat slowly, tiptoeing back up to the man, thanking her lucky stars that she had decided on flats that morning.

“I don’t hear any-”

She swung the tank lid at his head, meeting it with a sickening crack. He stumbled forward, hands instantly going to his head. She side-stepped him, hitting him again as he blindly tried to grab for her before she tore off down the hallway, aiming for the ladder. Keep going, keep going, she was panting as she went, practically leaping up the first few steps of the ladder. She climbed up as fast as she could, thankful when she saw it did lead to a hatch door.

She turned the handle and pushed, boulder dropping into her stomach as it didn’t budge. No… c’mon! She turned the handle again, pushing harder against the hatch. No! She began pushing on it with all her strength, hearing the footsteps of him behind her, c’mon, please! Open you stupid thing! Tears began streaming down her face as her chance of escape vanished.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she began getting desperate, slapping and punching the metal of the hatch, willing it to open with every fiber in her being.

“Now why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

She felt his hand wrap around her ankle, as she wrapped her hands around the handle, white-knuckling it. He chuckled before yanking her foot away from the ladder, her other foot blindly kicking out at him.

She kept her eyes glued to the hatch, “Help! Help me! Please!”

He pulled her downward again, this time her grip on the hatch loosening, sending her falling down the ladder. No! She began kicking and punching at him, as he pulled her back to the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“Sh, sh,” He wrapped her up, pulling her into his chest from behind, keeping his voice low, “Don’t cry, Doll,” he began rocking her gently from side to side.

She could feel the blood dripping off his face begin to soak into her shirt as he held her, unable to do anything but cry.

“Aw, Babe…,” he reached one hand up to pet her hair as he lifted her, walking them back toward the room she’d woken up in, “Did you really think it was gonna be that easy?”

 

 

“Theresa Mack, 23, found this morning.”

Frank watched as Randy pinned the newest victims’ picture up to the board, knuckles white around the edge of his desk.

“EMTs found a tattoo of Pinocchio sitting on a toilet on her palm.”

“That’s an interesting choice of ink,” Jim chuckled.

Randy turned to Frank, “It was fresh.”

Franks’ eyebrows raised, “What do you mean it was fresh?”

“EMTs estimate the tat was done after death.”

“There goes our theory of him targeting women with tats,” Jim sighed, throwing a file down onto his desk.

Franks’ eyebrows disappeared into his hair, why would you tattoo them after?

“Daddy!”

Frank turned, seeing his daughter run toward him, wife hesitating in the doorway, “Hi, Princess.”

She gave him a toothy grin and all but flung herself at him, squealing in excitement as he picked her up.

“Jim, can you take her to get some food?”

“Uh, sure,” he stood, walking a few steps toward the kitchenette, “C’mon, Kiddo.”

“Pocho!” She grabbed the picture of the third victims’ tat off her fathers’ desk.

“No, Sweety, that’s not,-”

“Bad!” She waggled her finger at him, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Sorry,” Jim took her by the hand and led her away.

Frank rubbed his chin, I wonder… “Pinocchios’ nose grows when he lies, right?”

Randys’ brows knit together in confusion, “Yeah, why?”

“What if…,” Frank rubbed his chin, “What if he’s tattooing why he killed them?” At the blank stare he kept going, “Pinocchio could be a symbol for lying, so maybe he killed the third vic because she lied to him about something. What were the other vic’s tats?”

“Uh,” Randy flipped through the file, “First vic had a broken lock over her heart, second was a clock on her wrist.”

“Hmm, so what if the first vic broke his trust somehow?”

“That’d be one hell of a ballsy move, tattooing why he killed them… do you think he’d be that brash?”

“Sir!” Tim burst into the room, looking excited, “We just cracked the first two vics’ phones, they used the same dating app.”

Frank and Randy exchanged a look, “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Tim took a breath as he handed over the file, “Jane just confirmed it.”

“What do you wanna bet Theresa used the same one?”

Frank tried to hide his smile, “Get Jane to set up a fake account, so we can finally catch this fucker.”

 

 

“Are you sure about this?”

“We’ll be with you the whole time,” Franks’ voice came out of her earpiece as she looked around the restaurant.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

“Time to earn your stripes, newbie.”

Jane turned to see a tall man, blonde hair, blue eyes, standing by her table, “Are you Jane?”

She nodded, standing to shake his hand, “And you are…?”

“Lucas,” he pulled her into a hug, inhaling deeply before letting go to sit down.

He’s already creepy, she plastered a smile on her face and flipped open the menu, “What looks good?”

“Hmm,” he opened his own, eyes skimming the pages, “Perhaps the lobster?”

Jane laughed, “On a first date? Isn’t that kind of,” she paused at the look he gave, “… expensive?”

He raised an eyebrow before reaching into his breast pocket, throwing down a gold credit card, faint smile on his face, “Moneys’ not a problem.”

Jane glanced at the card, keeping her expression as calm as she could, “… Are you married?”

“Of course not,” he narrowed his eyes at her a bit, “why would you ask that?”

Abigail Lawrence,” she picked the card off the table, “That is a womans’ name, no?”

He blinked in surprise, before breaking out into a smile, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck in attempted embarrassment, “Okay, you caught me. It’s not mine.”

“So…,” she placed it back down on the table, “You’re not rich?”

Lucas shook his head, not meeting her eyes, “I was just trying to impress you. To be honest,” he looked around the restaurant at all the other people wearing evening wear, squirming a bit, “All this high class stuff makes me uncomfortable.” He eyed her for a moment, before reaching across the table to take her hand, “Do you wanna get out of here? I know a great pizza place a few blocks away.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as she nodded, “Sure.”

They left the restaurant, and she shivered. He immediately slid his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders, leaving his hands on her as they walked.

“So,” she took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her voice, “what do you actually do?”

“I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Really? Wow, that must be nice. Creating art.”

“Eh,” he kicked at a rock, eyes on the sidewalk, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not that good.”

“Every artist I know thinks they suck, I’m sure you’re work isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah?” He gave her a sideways glance, “I actually don’t live that far from here. Would you maybe wanna… see some of my work?”

“Oh, uh,” she pretended to fix her earring, as she adjusted her earpiece, “I’m not sure.”

“Do it. We’ll be outside the whole time.”

“I understand,” he frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets looking disappointed.

“Actually?” She placed a hand on his arm and did her best to keep her skin from crawling, “I’d love to.”

His expression lit up like a kid on Christmas, giant grin splitting his face, “Great, it’s just over this way,” he pulled her into an ally.

“Whoa, what uh,” she lightly pushed against his chest, “What’re you doing?”

“You think I can’t tell?” His expression changed, growing dark as he reached for her earpiece.

“What? No, that’s not what you-”

“Shut up!” He back-handed her, throwing the earpiece on the ground before stomping on it. He wrapped his one hand around her neck, getting impossibly close, evil smile twisting his features, “Now I’m really excited to show you my work.”

 

 

Jane came to, head pounding. She tried to get up but was barely able to get an inch off the chair before she felt the confines of the straps. She rolled her head to the side, seeing Lucas hunched over a table against the farthest wall, back to her.

“… Is this the part where you kill me?”

He swiveled around on his stool, brows’ knit together in confusion, “Kill you? Why would I kill you?”

She surveyed the small part of the room she could see, raising an eyebrow, “Is this not the room where you killed the others?”

“Yes but,” He huffed, turning back around, “They didn’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“They couldn’t see that-” he cut himself off before turning back, small smile on his face, “Ooohhh, you’re a bad girl. Trying to get me to open up?” He got up from the stool, closing the distance between them, petting her hair, “Your tricks aren’t going to work on me.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” she looked down at her body, “since it doesn’t look like I’ll be doing much for a while.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he raked his eyes across her body, “We’ll be busy soon enough.”

A loud bang from above made them both jump, cloud of dust coming out from the ceiling.

“What the hell was that?”

Lucas poked his head out the door, eyes going wide before locking it closed, rushing over to the chair, undoing the straps that bound her.

Her heart leaped into her throat, “W-what are you doing? What’s happening?”

“Sh,” he grabbed her roughly, pulling her off the chair, leading her towards the back wall. He pulled her to his chest, grabbing a knife off the shelf before spinning around to face the door, holding the knife to her throat, “If you scream, you die. Understand?”

She swallowed thickly, nodding while blinking back tears. Frank burst through the door in the next instant, gun drawn.

His eyes swept the room before they landed on the pair, gun pointing at the maniacs’ head, “Drop the knife!”

“Drop your gun.”

Frank went to take a few more steps into the room, stopping when Lucas shook his head, pressing the knife against her throat harder, “Ah-ah. Come any closer, and she dies.”

Frank furrowed his brows in concentration, knuckles white around the base of his gun, “Let her go.”

“Aaaww, but this one is sooo pretty,” Lucas eyed the detective, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, “You sure I can’t keep her?”

“Drop. The. Knife.”

“C’mon! Where’s your sense of-”

Bang!


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Chicken

Written: 18.09.28-18.10.05

Words: 1,486

Gen., Human!Cas


“You have to have pie!” Cas grabbed the cashier by the collar, nearly pulling him over the counter.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir,” the cashiers’ voice shook, “This close to Thanksgiving nobody has any left.”

“I need pie!” Cas’ grip tightened around the collar, cashiers’ eyes going wide in fright.

The teen swallowed thickly, eyes darting around, “Y-You could always make one.”

Make one? Cas thought for a moment, could I make one? He turned narrowed eyes back to the teen, “How?”

“There’s pie filling in Aisle Two,” at the continued stare, the cashier pointed behind them, “I-I’m not sure if we still have pie shells, though.”

Cas’ grip tightened more, “I can’t just serve them pie filling!” he hesitated for a moment, “… Could I?”

“If you wanted to.”

The raven-haired man dropped the cashier against the desk, breathlessly, bee-lining for the aforementioned aisle. Pie filling… pie filling… where is-ah! Cas’ eyes widened at all the different cans, blueberry, cherry, pumpkin, apple? Why are there so many?

He turned angry eyes to the cashier, “Why are there so many?”

The cahsiers’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Cas huffed in annoyance, “Which one do I pick?”

The cashier shrugged, taking a few steps toward the backroom, “Whichever flavour you like.”

I don’t know which flavour’s his favourite… he glanced at the clock on the back wall, and I’m running out of time! He swiped his arm across the shelf, knocking all the cans into his basket, I’ll just get all of them.

Okay, he threw the grocery bag down on the counter with a huff, starring into it with a mounting panic, what do I make first? He eyed the pie filling and the pie crusts, does pie take longer? He began lining all the cans out on the counter, starring over the flavours, I’ll start with these so I have time to perfect them for Dean. He grabbed one of the cans, placing it inside one of the shells, looking confused, that’s not how the picture looks… He picked the can up to inspect it. Upon shaking it, he heard a squishing, cheeks going red at his embarrassment even though he was alone, of course… it’s inside the can! He pulled a knife from a drawer, stabbing the top of the can – frowning when it didn’t open. He tapped the knife on the lid of the can again, sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air, how the hell…?

His eyes drifted slightly downward, toward the paper on the middle, he smirked as he turned the can on its’ side, taking the knife to the paper. The paper fell away from the can in a few slices, only to reveal more metal underneath, much to Cas’ dismay. The whole can is metal?

Huffing in rage, he grasped the can firmly in one hand and began sawing into it with the knife, using all the strength he could muster, “I… don’t…have…time…for…this.”




The Winchester brothers’ made their way through the bunker door, ears perking at the struggling noises coming from inside. Dean wiped blood from his eye as he nodded to his brother, the pair separating with their guns drawn, preparing to sweep the bunker. Fresh from a hunt, they were both still on high alert for any threats – even on Thanksgiving they didn’t get a break.

They moved into the hallway, where the grunting noises were getting louder. They stopped on either side of the kitchen doorway. Sam looked to his brother, holding his breath. At his brothers’ nod, they entered the room, raising their guns and startling the ex-angel.

“Cas?”

They lowered their weapons as they saw the kitchen island, full of food. There were about ten pies lining the kitchen island, used as a make-shift boarder around different dishes holding vegetables, and a giant hole, assumed to be the place for the bird in the ex-angels’ arms.

Cas put the roasting pan on the table, giant smile splitting his face, what’s on his face? before he threw his hands up in the air like an over-excited five year old, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Cas,” Deans’ voice was careful, hand out like he wasn’t sure what to expect, “What uh, what is all this?”

“I made you Thanksgiving dinner!” The raven-haired man took the oven-mitts off and untied his apron, gesturing to the stools set at the island.

The brothers’ shared a look as they approached the island cautiously. Sam took a stool, eyes roaming over the holiday spread, “Why uh… what made you decide to cook?”

“I thought you could use a good holiday memory,” he smiled as he handed each of them a beer, “y’know, instead of having somebody die.”

Dean snorted, taking a seat only when the youngest shot him a look, “Well it, uh, smells… great.”

Sams’ stomach grumbled almost as if on cue, cheeks going red as he looked over the table with a small smile, “What would you recommend we start with?”

Cas gestured to the bird in the middle of the table, “The main event, of course.”

Dean looked skeptical – it’s still pink for Christ sake –  but made his way around the other side of the island to grab the carving knife. He tilted his head to one side as he eyed it, “This looks pretty small for a turkey… how many pounds was it?”

“It didn’t say.” At the brothers’ look, he went to the garbage, pulling the container out, “See?”

Dean snorted again, shaking his head as he read the container, “Cas… this is a chicken not a turkey.”

“… Oh.”

“I’m sure it still tastes great,” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, who was clearly trying to keep his laughter in.

“Yeah, I bet-” Dean cut himself off as he pushed the knife into the bird, being met with semi-frozen resistance, it’s not even cooked.

Dean looked up at the two men from the bird, boulder of guilt settling into his stomach as he took in the ex-angels’ fallen face, he looks like someone kicked his puppy.

“Dean?”

Not usually one to spare someones’ feelings, Dean shook his head, “Nothing, I’m sure it’s great.”

He used as much force as he could to dig into the semi-frozen bird, doing his best to keep a straight face as he placed the piece onto a plate.

“Here ya go, Sammy. First piece,” he handed the plate to his brother, praying he didn’t need to cut another.

Sam eyed his brother but accepted the plate. He took his knife to it, instantly realizing it was frozen, he opened his mouth before catching the look his brother was giving him. Reluctantly, Sam popped a piece of frozen bird into his mouth.

Cas’ face lit up slightly, “How is it?”

Sam moaned around the piece, nodding his head, “So…” he turned away slightly, doing his best to not spit it out, “so, good,” he gestured to Dean, “You should try it.”

“Nice try Sammy,” the blonde pushed the roasting pan slightly away from him, pulling over one of the pies, “You know I like my dessert first.”

Deans’ eyes caught the paintbrush sitting on the edge of the island, he… painted the pies? He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, as he starred at the pie he pulled over, why would you paint it? Sighing, he plunged his fork into the middle, suppressing his cringe as the crust bent easily under the force, didn’t we show you how to use the oven?

“So, Cas,” Sam thankfully piped up, “Why did you make so many pies, anyway?”

The raven-haired mans’ cheeks flared red, and he adverted his eyes to the ground, “Well… I didn’t know which would be your favourite… so I bought all of them.”

Of course you did, Dean closed his eyes, boulder in his stomach growing. He slightly shook his head as he tried to cut raw dough with his fork, doing his best to make it look like he wasn’t struggling.

“Wow, Cas that’s… that’s really nice, thank-you.”

“Of course, you’re family.”

Damn it, Dean felt a tug at his heart strings, finally ripping the dough enough with his fork to get a piece, “Yeah, Cas, that’s… not necessary.”

He popped it into his mouth, fighting off his gag reflex. He chewed it, teeth clenching at the doughy texture, I can’t believe he actually ruined pie… The blonde swallowed it down, body shuddering as it made it’s way down.

“I can’t wait till next year!”

Dean nearly choked on his pie.

Cas’ face lit up with an ear-splitting grin, looking between the brothers’, “Yeah! I can cook while you two are out hunting.”

The brothers’ exchanged a look, before Dean shook his head, “I don’t think so, buddy.”

Cas’ face fell slightly, “But… why?”

“Cause next year?” Dean took another forkful of pie, slingshotting it at the ex-angel, “I’m cooking.”


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Goodbye Back

Written: 18.07.06

Words: 741

NFF


“She has to be here,” his eyes swept the beach underneath him, scanning each face for those perfect amber orbs he’d grown to love.

“We’ve checked the entire beach twice,” Frank came out onto the balcony behind him, “She’s not there.”

“B-but-”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “we can’t postpone the meeting any longer.”

The prince took a small step forward, leaning out over the railing a little more, desperately searching the sand below him, “I just…” he trailed off, turning to look back at his father figure before sighing and stepping back toward the house, “You’re right. Can’t expect them to wait any longer. But once we get back I’m searching that beach myself.”

The butler suppressed his sigh and nodded, following the prince as he led the way back into the house. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel for his boss – of course he did, he himself had been through heartbreak before – it was just, seeing him so distraught her – it made him crazy. The prince was acting as if they’d been together months, years even – instead of the one week they had actually shared.

If Frank was being honest, he didn’t like her. She’d been tough to deal with, to say the least. She had zero interest in listening to the prince, and she tore the house apart.. It wasn’t right the way he was pining after her. Frank felt she wasn’t worth his time.

Definitely not worth all this drama.

What got under his skin even more was the fact she chose to leave. She could’ve stayed, if she’d only listened, but no, she tore out of the living room with little regard as to what she was leaving behind. He thought that once she was gone that’d be it, but no. Now he had the entire security team scouring the beach to find her. Why the prince assumed he’d be able to find her by just searching the beach was beyond him. She had a whole day ahead of them, there was no way she’d just be soaking in the sun waiting to be found.

Frank followed the prince into the board room, nodding at the four other men already there. He couldn’t help but notice the way the men straightened their back as they entered.

“Sorry for the wait,” the prince immediately switched to his Professional Mode and took his seat, “Jack, get us started.”

“W-well, your Highness, we, uh….” Frank stifled a smirk, of course you’d be the first, “we have our best men covering as much ground as possible.”

“Great,” the Prince turned to one of the other men, “any news from our eye in the sky?”

“Not yet,” the blonde startled a bit at the question, fidgeting with his tie as he answered, “as soon as we have a confirmed sighting, we’ll let you know. If she’s anywhere within a fifty foot radius, we’ll find her.”

Frank blinked, did I hear that right? “Excuse me gentlemen,” he turned to the prince, “Is this not the board meeting?”

The prince waved a dismissive hand, “No, no, I had that cancelled.”

“Cancelled?” he took a small step forward, “Sir, I don’t think-”

“I don’t pay you to think,” Frank blinked at the tone, noting the slight recoil that came from the other men in the room, “I pay you to do as I say.”

All this for her? The butler shook his head slightly, raising a hand, “Sir, if I may-”

The prince waved his hand again, the four other men in the room practically running for the door, “You may,” he stood, careful to keep his face blank of emotion, like his father, “either get on board with the search or pack your bags.”

Franks’ jaw dropped, “S-sir?” Surely he’s not serious.

The prince made his way to the door, and Frank saw the effort it took for him to keep from looking back at him, “Be gone by the end of the day.”

Frank took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, “I practically raised you.”

The princes’ face twitched before smoothing out again, “If you refuse to listen, then you’re no longer needed.”

Frank paused as the prince left the room with that, shock beginning to set in. He rushed to the door, head spinning from what just happened, “Sir!” the prince stopped walking, finally looking him in the eye, “it’s just a dog!”


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Son of a Bitch

Written: 18.03.28


“Son of a bitch!”

Sam shot straight up in his bed, grabbing for his gun before bolting into the living room, finding his brother standing there, face twisted with pain.

“Dean, what is it? What happened?” Gun at the ready, the giant swept the room with his eyes, finding… nothing. What?

He ran around the room, checking the doorways leading into the other parts of the bunker, coming up empty. He set his gun down and returned to his brother, who was still standing there, glaring at the table.

“Dude, what the hell?”

His brother finally acknowledged him and nodded toward it, “Stubbed my friggin’ toe.”

Sam sighed in relief, “Your toe?”

The blonde held his foot in one hand, face falling like a child who broke their favourite toy, “It hurts.”

The giant rolled his eyes before making a move to the door, “I was sleeping, y’know.”

“… It’s throbbing.”

Sam shook his head, starting back to his room, “I’m going back to bed. Try not to let any of the other furniture get the drop on you while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, yeah, go finish your beauty rest, Samantha.”

“Night, Jerk.”

“Night, Bitch.”


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Truth

Written: 18.03.08

*Warning: Graphic content ahead*


The sound of a door slamming open startles me out of my sleep. My eyes go wide as I see him, standing in the doorway, small light that’s spilled into the room lighting up his features, showing us the true menace in all his glory. He laughs as he takes a step in and hears some of us gasp. There’s a flash of metal, and something else is dripping off his free hand. I swallow hard as the smell fills the room and close my eyes momentarily to keep myself from vomiting at the thought, blood.

His eyes scan the room, hungrily, “Who’s next?”

The room explodes with cries, and screams. Everyone begins scrambling, trying to move backward. A feat that’s near impossible because of the shear number of us. We’re stuffed pretty much wall to wall, barely enough space to turn around, let alone stretch out our legs, or run. I’m pretty far back from the door, but that won’t matter for long. Not with how quickly they’ve been taking us. In droves, it seems. Each time they take more and more, ripping us away from our family and friends, we scream at them not to, but they never listen. True evil.

He stalks slowly over to one corner of the room, I see a few duck, a last attempt to hide from his callous hands. The room goes silent as he bends down, I crane my neck fighting to see who he’s taking. I can barely see over everyone in front of me, but I’m able to make out the small cluster he’s in front of moves back as if they were one, leaving a child out in front of them. Like an offering. I fail to swallow the disgust I feel building in my throat.

He laughs again, features twisting up into a smirk as he bends down, picking the child up by the leg, “Guess it’s your lucky day.”

I watch helplessly as he turns back toward the door. He’s gonna take her. She twists in his grasp, fighting to get away. Her eyes sweep the room, pleading with us to help her. I take a deep breath and surge forward, enough is enough.

Leave her alone! I manage to squeeze myself a few feet forward, still too far to actually help.

He stops and turns back around at the noise, “What are you screaming for?”

He grabs his flashlight and turns it to where I am, fighting my way to the front. He raises an eyebrow in silent question as I continue to push past everyone, scanning their scared faces, what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you helping her? He takes a few steps forward, and doesn’t even bother smirking as everyone in front of his feet moves away.

He squints into the darkness, eyes finally locking with mine, “You want to come to?”

I finally burst through to the front, and pointedly look to the kid he’s still holding. He follows my gaze to her before turning back to me and letting out a belly laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he lets the child fall from his hand, tucking his flashlight back into his pocket.

She lands on the floor with a deafening smack. I turn my eyes over to her, some others rush forward to help her up. I deflate a bit in relief as I see her breath. The relief in her eyes is all the thanks I need. I take another few steps forward, puffing out my chest as I stare him down.

He looks at me, head cocked to one side before shrugging, “Don’t matter to me.”

He kneels down, snatching my foot before dragging me upwards, body scraping against the hard gravel as I go before the cool air rushes over the fresh scratches. I look back over the room, grateful I was able to save everyone else. I can see the relief and fear that’s on their faces. They’re conflicted.

I’m walked through the door, and am forced to squint as harsh light floods my eyes. This room is so much brighter then where we’re kept, it’s hard to believe that they’re part of the same building. It’s so loud in here; my eyes don’t know where to look first. I see some of my friends are hanging upside down by their feet, just hanging there motionless. Why aren’t they fighting? My eyes follow the conveyer belt as they’re pulled underwater. I watch as water splashes up the sides of the tank before they remerge out the other side. I could see some of them twitching against the shackles around their feet, and something felt… wrong. I couldn’t place it, but they didn’t look well. More sickly then before, like they didn’t have any fight left. Their bodies weren’t moving, but I could see their eyes, they were screaming for help.

I fought, hoping maybe I’d get dropped, but he just tightened his grip around my leg. I felt my heart break as I continued following them with my eyes. My eyes swept a few feet in front of them, to see where they were going and I felt my blood run cold. They were headed right toward a saw blade. Oh my God, no! I turned back to my friends and started fighting harder against the monster holding me, why aren’t you fighting? Get out of there! The buzzing from the saw filled the air, and I watched, helpless as they were pulled through it, blood gushing from their necks. I couldn’t help but puke at the sight, the smell of fresh blood and feces filled the air.

He readjusted his grip and laughed again, “Aaawww, what’s a’ matter? You don’t like this ride, anymore?”

He lifted me over his head and I felt cold metal click around my legs, he was strapping me in! No! Please! I haven’t done anything! I squirmed and maneuvered every way I could think of, I heard a deafening snap before I felt a bolt of pain shoot through my leg. I cried out in agony as the bone snapped, effectively stopping me from fighting. I was panting from the effort, tears free-falling down my face.

He brought a finger up to my face, wiping a tear away as his features contorting back into that evil smile that made my blood run cold, “Your turn.”


Pretty gruesome, right? Well, what if I told you this is only scratching the service of what’s really happening. This is a POV short story about what happens to chickens in a slaughterhouse. If you’d like to learn more, I highly recommend you check out this documentary. It covers pretty much every important point there is.

If you’d like some advice on how to make a change, please check out my Veg Life page, that has recipes, tips and more on helping you make a change.

If you like short stories, check out my TAF page for more.

The Little Dreams 2

Sabriel

Written: 18.02.16-18

Words: 800


Finally, Sam shut the laptop with a satisfied sigh, time to relax. He looked around the dingy motel room, I can’t believe we’re actually getting two weeks off. Now I can do everything I’ve been too busy for, he smiled and got up, snatching his key off the table before heading to the door, this is gonna be great.

Things were not great, Sam ran his hands threw his hair in agitation, why can’t I think of anything to do? What’s wrong with me?

He had walked around the block, excited to finally be able to get some alone time while Dean was off at the local bar, most likely hustling pool.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a damn thing to do, so he circled back to the room. He shook his head and made his way over to the bed, how did I get so boring? There’s more to me then hunting!

He flopped backward, starring at the ceiling, c’mon brain, pick something. Am I just gonna lay here for fourteen days?

“I wouldn’t worry so much.”

The hunter bolted upright, confused to see the candy gorging angel.

“Gabriel? What are you doing here?”

The brunette feigned being hurt, “You don’t remember the last time I came to visit?”

“No,” the giant got up, snatching the angel blade from under the bed, “Last time I saw you was in that-”

“Porno I left you?” Gabriel smirked before jumping up to sit on the table, unwrapping a Mars bar, “I remember. You did good, Sammich, shoving my bro back in his box. I was impressed.”

Sam eyed the entity, slowly closing the distance, angel blade behind his back, “We thought you were dead.”

“I went into hiding,” he slipped off the counter, eyeing the hunter, “if there’s one thing having Luci as a sibling had taught me, it’s to never get in his way when he’s throwing a tantrum. Better to tuck tail and run until he blows off his steam.”

“So you’ve been in hiding…” the pair were now only a few feet apart, “but you knew what had happened? Watched us get him back in the box? Watched the Leviathan? You sat back as Metatron-” the giant huffed with rage, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “Idley sat by while the angels fell? How many lives could you have saved if we knew you were alive?”

“Whoa, Sammich,” Gabriel placed his hands on his shoulders, “Relax. This wasn’t why I came back.”

“Then why’re you here? Why reveal yourself-”

He cut himself off as the angel touched his head.

“C’mon Sammy, you don’t have to get right back to work do you?” Gabriel pleaded the hunter with his eyes.

“I – I guess not.”

Gabriel jumped over the laptop, landing in Sam’s lap, wrapping his hands around his neck.

He smiled softly, almost tenderly at the hunter before resting his head down on his shoulder. Sam failed to calm his rapidly beating heart.

Sam stumbled back a few steps, hand clutching his head, whoa.

Gabe smiled up at the hunter, following him back, “I got word you were finally cashing in your vacation time, so I figured…” he trailed off, smirking as the hunters’ knees hit the bed.

He fell backward, head spinning, how do I not remember that? When did that even…?

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” Gabriel shook his head before beginning to undo his jacket, “when are you gonna learn?”

The brunette swallowed thickly, failing to calm his increased heartbeat, “L-learn what?”

The angel winked before leaping for him.

“Sam!”

The hunter shot up in bed, wild eyes scanned the room, settling on his brothers’ worried face.

“Jesus, man,” he backed up a few steps and blew out a breath of relief, “quit scaring me like that!”

Sam rubbed at his eyes, headache pounding against his skull, “Wh-what?”

“Learn how to breath in your sleep man,” Dean threw a jacket at him, “Get dressed, would ya? We’ve only got a few more hours of daylight, and I do not want to hunt that nest in the dark,” he grabbed the keys off the table and swung the door open, “Be out in ten or you’re getting left behind.”

Sam shook his head and stretched, it wasn’t real? He got up, face flushing as he saw his boner through his boxers. He sighed, pulling his pants on, back to work, I guess. He pulled a shirt over his head before slipping on his jacket, making his way to the door, eyes roaming to the counter where the angel had been, disappointed to see it empty. Guess he’s really gone.

Haven’t you learned anything Sammich?

Sam stopped in the doorway, eyes scanning the empty room, maybe he’s really- no, he shook his head, focus.

 Uhm, hello? Trickster.


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