Chapter One"Sam!" I screamed, ducking under the swing of an axe and bashing into the vampire. It falls away from Sam, and in one swing its head is rolling away. I only manage to smile at him for a moment before I am pivoting around to chop the head off of a lunging vamp. Blood spatters across my body.
When I first started hunting it grossed me out, but now the only reason I wash it off is because of the looks I would receive from being blood spattered, grungy and covered in dirt.
After the vamps are all dead, I sheath my machete in her case and look around at the carnage. Decapitated bodies are scattered throughout the warehouse, blood spatter going in every direction. As the group exits the place, we all decide lighting fire to the place is the fastest option.
"Hey, thanks for saving me in there," A deep, slightly out of breath voice says as I lean over my trunk. I put my machete in the box of knives and close it before dropping the fake bottom down and shutting the trunk.
"That's what hunters do for each other Sammy. We watch each others backs." I smile widely at him and comb my fingers through my oily hair, suddenly self conscious. He returns a toothy grin.
"Now I owe you one for saving my life." I shake my head and climb into the driver's seat of my 1969 Mustang.
"If I ever need help on a case I'll call you." I rev the engine to life and speed away, leaving Sam Winchester in my tracks.
I never really expected the situation to come up but after about two years I heard from Bobby that the Winchesters were hunting the same case I was. It also turns out that a situation came up that I needed some help.
"Hey Sammy?" My voice quivers. I hear a bunch of movement and the sound of something dropping through the phone.
"Regan?" He demands, sensing danger. I almost drop the phone as it moves.
"Sammy I'm in the Sun Motel here in Lexington Kentucky In room 403 can you come save me?" I screech and jump a foot in the air as it fake darts toward me. I drop the phone.
After seconds that feel like a life time of watching the black mass I hear the door thrust open, and Sam comes in, wielding a gun. He looks at me and I point to the hairy, eight legged blob on my bathroom floor. Sam walks over and drops the gun to his side when he realizes it is only a spider.
"It is a spider, Regan." I shudder at the word.
"A hunter has to have her fears, right? I had to pee but it was sort of there. I've been having a staring contest with it for about an hour. Kill it, please?" From the corner of my eye I see Sam look at me. I don't dare take my eyes off the thing though, even as he bursts into laughter.
Apparently his laughter was the only taunting it needed to move, because the thing comes scurrying toward us. I scream at the top of my lungs as my five foot one figure begins to climb Sam's (at least) six foot four figure. By the time I hear the satisfying crunch on the linoleum floor I am sitting on Sam's shoulders like a five year old.
Sam shifts around, trying to look at me, so I bend over to look at him, smiling goofily. He stares into my blue eyes curiously, watching my every move.
"You really are terrified of spiders, huh?" I slowly climb down from him to stand in front of him.
"Better spiders than werewolves!" I slink away back to my lap top as Sam watches my slow movements. My gait is slow and wide on my tip toes to compensate for short legs due to my small body.
"I thought you had to go to the bathroom?" Sam asked, watching me sit down on my bed and open my lap top once again. I close out a few tabs of my writings as a blush covers my face. So what I enjoy writing fluff, I am still a virgin, after all.
A breath rolls across my skin and I freeze mid sentence. My body shivers with goose bumps from Sam's warm breath. I slowly regain movement and turn to look wide eyed at Sam. He's could have been reading over my shoulder for who knows how long! What if he read the other part?
"You're quite the talented writer, Regan. Why didn't you pursue it instead of hunting?" I sigh and shut my lap top.
"It's none of your business." I stand up and turn away from Sam. Something tells me that I can trust him, but I barely know the guy. I enter the bathroom and click the door locked.
In a rush I rip my clothes off and sit on the cold bathroom floor. I pull out my pocket knife and look at the cuts covering my ankles. Tears roll down my cheeks as my memory flashes back to all those years ago when my six year old sister was bitten by a werewolf and taken into the pack. Four years later I looked into her yellow eyes, glistening teeth bared as I shot her in the heart with a silver bullet. I watched the life drain from her eyes, knowing that I was the reason that she was laying on the cold floor with a bullet hole in her chest. And the only condolences I got were "It was the right thing".
My blade rushes across my scarred skin, creating a new path for blood to flow from. And another, just for the tingle of pain. I add one more just to feel the rush in the back of my head. A few more tears slip before I cast the blade with a flick of my wrist into the wall and stand from my growing puddle of blood on the floor.
I ignore my many other scars that trail along my stomach, thighs and wrists as I jump into the shower and turn on the water to scolding hot. My tense muscles relax under the water, and I scrub my hair and body clean for the first time in weeks.
When I exit the shower, I realize just how sore my ankle is from the cuts. I wrap it in gauze and an ace bandage before towel drying my hair and body. I open the door slowly, checking that the coast is clear of Sam. Seeing no one, I slink into the room and dig into my bag, pulling out underclothes, my cleanest pair of jeans and a black VANS tee shirt.
My brown hair slowly begins to curl as I lace up my boots. Once they are on I put my pocket knife in and grab my leather jacket. Walking out the door I make sure to lock up before walking across the street to get dinner. While I am waiting on my gas station burger I hear familiar voices. I turn to see Sam and Dean.
"Regan! We were just talking about you!" Dean barely contains his laughter, so I stick my tongue out childishly. He walks away laughing under his breath.
"Hey, I'm sorry Reggie, it just sort of slipped," I stare at him in disbelief.
"Did you just call me Reggie?" Tears begin to well in my eyes.
"Yeah, I guess-" I don't hear him finish. I run out of the gas station, my eyes spilling over with tears. I go right back to the motel room and throw myself over the bed.
A/N: So it is two AM and the only reason I am publishing this without edit is because I want some of my friends to read it and be excited and is it raining? I'll edit in the morning, Love you all good night!