บท 13: The night progress

The one who leaves the shadows, walking towards Dean, the hero who saves me from being discovered, the black kitten!

'Perfect weather! Cat 1 x 0 Plot Armor!' I resist the urge to punch the air.

"Meow." The little feline meows rubbing its furry body in the hunter's sneakers, a masterful display of cuteness. No human being who still has a heart beating in his chest can resist this.

"Ah, so it was just a cat..." With a sigh, the tension disappears from the face of the young 'heartthrob', who puts the gun back in his clothes. The little brother comes closer, bending down to pet the cat.

"It's still pretty new, judging by how friendly it is, it must be homey." As expected from the duo's brain, a good logical deduction.

'Unfortunately he was just a homebody.' The whole litter was abandoned in the streets, and such.

Dean clears his throat in an undisguised way to get the attention of his younger brother, who was distracted by the cat. "About our father being missing, Sammy..."

"Yeah... Back to the point. I moved to study." Sam gets up awkwardly, but still getting serious. "Dad said if I went, stay away. That's what I'm doing."

Despite the seriousness, due to the cat's intrusion the scene had a hint of comic added compared to what I remember from the show. I liked.

"But this time, our father is in danger, if he isn't dead. I'm sorry." Dean's eyes are teary, it shows how much he cares. "I can't go alone."

"Yes you can." Samuel shakes his head in disbelief. He more than anyone his brother's ability.

"Yeah..." Dean looks away, showing a rare fragility. "But I do not want."

Silence reigns between the two then. Sam's irises wander a bit across the parking lot scene as the conflict going on in his thoughts is shown by his facial expressions.

A sigh ends the silence, with Sam deciding he needs to support his brother right now. "What was he hunting?"

*Purrs* An affectionate rub of my boot pulls me out of the deep immersion I've been watching the Winchesters scene, pulling my attention back to the little feline that saved my skin a few seconds ago.

~ Did I help? ~ He only uses body language, but I can hear the childish voice as if he's really talking. Credits to [Animal Language]

"It did, thanks." I rub my little hero's head, whispering thanks while the brothers are distracted by some papers and a voice recorder they pull out of the trunk of the car. I doubt they notice a few whispers that are low even for my enhanced hearing.

~Hehe, I'm useful.~ The tail, as tiny as he is, moves in an 'S' shape in the air according to his joy. ~so I can stay with you, right?~

I raise an eyebrow. "Hey, isn't that a bit of a logical leap?"

~Logical leap?~ His yellow eyes tell me he has no idea what it means.

"It's not important. The important thing is, no, you can't come with me." I swing my raised index finger a little in front of the animal, making the 'no' clear.

~But why? I'm useful! I can help more!~ Patting his front paws on the asphalt like a child stamps his feet. A very silent child, of course.

Sigh. "You remember that scary woman we saw earlier, right?" I remember our brief sighting of the reaper.

As expected, he takes two steps back with ears flattened upon being reminded. ~Y-yes... I remember...~ The slight tremor in his body at the mention of the reaper makes him stutter.

"So what I'm hunting is a being even scarier than her." Sure, they're not more powerful, but unlike reapers, who are neutral, demons are entirely evil.

~Is-is that true?..~ He backs away even more, almost stepping out of the shadow we're in, luckily I stop him with my telekinesis. Making a little jump of fright.

"Yes, and not just today, I'm going to hunt a lot more scary stuff going forward." I caress him with my left hand.

He lowers not only his ears, but his body, dreading the idea of coming with me more and more. ~You are very brave...~

I exhale air through my nose, opening a simple smile. "I think I'm a little... To tell you the truth, I'm scared too." A real confrontation with a demon awaits me, I am calm only in appearances.

The scared kitten shows a bit of awkwardness in her body language. ~ If you're scared, why would you do that?~ That's a fair enough question.

"Because if I don't, someone will die." It's simple... Or I thought it was, until our conversation continued:

~Wow... It must be someone very important to you.~ Says the little one, slowly relaxing again.

"To tell you the truth, no, we don't even know each other." The kitten tilts its head, not understanding me again. ~?... Why do you care about someone you don't even know?~

"Because?... It's natural to help someone in danger... I guess." That question caught me completely off guard. My answer is vague, nor am I sure why I would be so willing to do this, to risk my life for a stranger.

As I'm about to start an internal debate in search of the reason behind the will that guides me, I hear a car engine starting. Looking up, I see the Impala pulling away, taking this world's protagonists into the plot of the first episode... Or should have, if I hadn't already dealt with the woman in white.

'That is a matter for later.' Yes, I don't have time to question or doubt, I'm already here and I have a duty to do.

Taking my eyes off where the Winchesters' car had been, I turn back to the cat one last time. "Now you understand why I couldn't take you with me, don't you?"

~Yes...~ He lowers his head in sadness, but understanding. Head that I affectionately touch one last time, before lifting myself up with the bags on my shoulders and back, finally stepping out of the shadows. "Don't be like that... You're smart and very cute, there are thousands of good people in this town, with normal lives, who will love to have you as their companion."

He doesn't answer me directly, remaining head down, staring at the floor. "I'm sure you'll meet one of those people... Goodbye, little friend."

Saying goodbye to him for the second, which again breaks my heart, I leave him where he is and head towards the stairs through which the Winchesters emerged, to continue tonight's activities.

'Open it.' A single mental command is enough to make the metal gate, previously locked, open on its own, allowing me to enter the old elevator.

'Close... Fourth floor.' It closes the same way it opened and the number '4' button on the aged panel sinks by itself, making me start to climb.

Even holding the bags, I could press the button myself, but that way I avoid leaving fingerprints, and more importantly, I feel really cool running things with my mind.

...That and it's faster than trying to control my hands, which find themselves shaking, not from the physical weight I'm carrying, but from the mental weight of the situation, afflicting me with anxiety. The butterflies in my stomach are growing as I arrive at today's hunting grounds.

'This nervousness reminds me of my college entrance exams.'

I squeeze the handles of the suitcases tightly between my fingers, in order to contain the trembling. Leaning my face up, I take this short time the elevator is rising to breathe.

Chuck, the sound of static from both meetings with the Winchesters, how far out of my world I am, how high the chances are that I die today, and no one I really care about wants to know... I don't want to think about anything. from that.

'Breathe... Breathe... Breathe... Breathe... Breathe... Breathe...'

*Ting* The sound of a bell announces the elevator's stop, opening its doors on the fourth floor.

"Everything will be fine... No one will die today."

I utter the words, as much to comfort myself as to firm my conviction, and take the first step out of the elevator car.

The hall is engulfed in the perennial darkness of night, the sobering silver moonlight shimmering through the windows unable to provide any real light more than a few feet from where it enters. Happily, I now possess the look of a night predator, which is quite an aggrandized way of saying 'A cat's view'.

Seeing as well as during the day, I walk slowly, passing in front of apartment doors with numbers in ascending sequence. By count, Sam's is one of the last on this floor. The air in the building is stagnant, my newly honed sense of smell picking up all kinds of odors; mostly different human smells from each of the residents who have passed through here recently, also a little of what they cooked for dinner; Tomato sauce, fried potatoes, 'Hurgh...' Someone broke some, actually several, rotten eggs too.

I hold back the urge to rip my nose off in a brutal movement with thumb and forefinger as I pass this specifically smelly part of the path, finally arriving at the expected door.

'Apartment 49...'

Due to the lack of noise and light escaping through the cracks in the door of the residence, I assume that Jessica has already gone back to sleep, making it safe for me to enter.

'Open it.' Tacitly, the white wood moves, rotating the metallic hinges with the least amount of noise possible, opening a passage for me, and as soon as I do, I give the command to close and lock.

It's a simple American apartment; The entrance door leads to the living room with sofa and TV, in the room there is a door to the double bedroom, another to the bathroom and a decorative curtain as a separation to the kitchen. As dark as the hallway is, night vision really is a cheat for home invasions.

As I breathe in I catch the distinct scent of two people pervaded throughout the place, they are Sam and Jessica obviously.

'No abnormal smell, perfect.' I place all the bags carefully on the living room floor, in front of the sofa, taking a fair amount of weight off my body.

I slowly open another door, the bedroom door. Just enough to visualize Jessica's appearance, wearing night clothes and lying on her side in the double bed and notice the small movement of expansion and contraction of her ribs with each breath slowed down by the unconscious state, making sure that she is 100% alive and sleeping.

'Checked.' I close the door again and return to where my things are. Unzipping the main bag of the first bag, I take a look at the first part of the arsenal I've brought for that night: The pistols, shotguns and rifles I bought in Jericho, but all equipped with silencers and loaded with ammunition made entirely of iron, highly damaging material for Ghosts. and Demons. I put a bandolier around my neck, hanging a rifle, and bring the two tauros to my waist. One of them with all 12 bullets in the cartridge. It has the design of a devil's trap.

I wish all guns were like this, but it was a hell of a couple of hours to paint the tiny symbols on a single bullet, there was no way I could do more without risking having a few misses that could have let me down during the 'H-hour' '.

In the second suitcase; Crosses, chains, knives and general iron tools. I take two of the knives and put them in knife holders that I have strapped to my legs. I don't intend to go into close combat with a demon, but it's good to be prepared.

Lastly, the third suitcase is loaded with pounds and pounds of pure salt, along with some cans of spray paint and bottles filled with holy water that I made myself.

I tear open one of the bags of salt with a knife and begin to use telekinesis, which I've trained well over the last few days, to form thick lines of salt on the entryway and living room windows. I also make a circle around the couch that also encompasses my bags, just in case.

Shortly thereafter I move into the kitchen and bathroom, carefully tracing the salt on each window, sealing them against black-eyed demons. Ending up there, I quietly enter the room where Jessica is sleeping (Credits to the file [Silent Floor]), and, with a bag of salt in hand, I pour it around the bed. a little nostalgia, as it reminds me of John Winchester's hotel room.

I can't let my guard down though, because once I'm done with this circle, my sharp ears manage to pick up the low squeak of soft shoes coming from the hallway outside.

'Fucking hell...' My spine chilling. '... Well, it could be one of the neighbors arriving late at night.'

The sound of footsteps continues, seeming closer and closer.

'Cum! fuck! Hell! It sure is coming here!' I mentally curse all I can, moving quickly back into the living room, throwing the open bag of salt onto the sofa, which I leap over, with my new incredible balance, saving time to reach the third suitcase. I take from her one of the cans of spray paint that I use to, in all the haste in the world, paint a large devil's trap on the ceiling in front of the front door. After experimenting with painting it carefully into twelve small bullets, a large one is made in a few seconds.

'He has no way in, but better safe than sorry.'

By this time the footsteps have arrived, stopping right in front of the door. I swallow hard, heart pounding in my chest. Right hand already landing on the hilt of my gun with the devil's trap bullets.

*click* *click* The sound of the doorknob turning twice, almost making me have a heart attack, but just as expected, unable to open the salt-barred door.

'Okay... Ok...' Taking the Taurus in my hands, I also take my Steps towards the door, avoiding stepping on the salt on the floor. 'I'll just check my black-eyed buddy through the peephole and shoot him through the door anyway... Fuck the rest.'

'... The son of a bitch will be immobilized/powerless before he even has time to say 'Shazam'.' My thoughts get a little aggressive with nervousness.

Close enough to the small circle of glass in front of the door, I lean forward, and bring my eyeball very slowly closer to the lens. A drop of sweat running down the corner of my face while the almost non-existent light from the corridor is refracted by the body standing there towards the peephole, where I am viewing it...

Envisioning something many times darker than the man with blackened scleras she was waiting for.

"FUCKING FUCK!"