章節 11: Saving People. Hunting Things. The Family Business I
Click!
"Pick up, ya jag!" Bobby slammed his cold beer atop his large work table. Fuming mad from the fact that neither Sam nor Dean had called him in the past two days. Add to the fact that their father had just died days earlier and he could not help but worry about them. Don't get him wrong, the boys are good hunters, but even they need help from time to time.
He sighed and took a mouthful of his beer before deciding to stop bothering the two. 'God knows I need some me time too,' he thought. 'Freaking John Winchester, even in death, you're bothering your fucking kids. When I get up in there, I'm gonna bust a couple of rock salt in your ass.'
He raised the beer up to the air and nodded solemnly. He may hate John for putting his kids to hunting, there was no denying the fact that he was a skilled hunter. Not better that he is, but good enough to warrant praise.
Tring!
Bobby flinched, frustrated by the sudden audible intrusion when he just staring to reminisce. But when he saw where the call was coming from, he stood up with a grunt and picked up the call.
"Willis. FBI." He introduced himself with a tone of authority and slight exasperation.
"Hey, Bobby. It's Garth."
Booby groaned, annoyance and relief evident in his tone. "Whadda ya want?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to say thanks for saving my ass back there. I didn't know there was a werewolf family near Long Beach."
"Hmmm. The Greythornes are a sick son of bitches, but they do good work for the folks there on the valley. Did you get all of them?"
"Yeah, I Garth'd them."
"Goo-- you what?"
"Garth'd them. You know, ganked them, but it's me doing it, so... Garth'd."
Bobby had half a mind to hang up the call, but his next words stilled his annoyed hands.
"Anyway, the crazy thing is... there was this guy, Richard, who helped me kill them almost all."
"Wait? Tall, brown hair, blue eyes, and smells like expensive whiskey?" Bobby asked, describing the Greythorne heir to which Garth assented to. Any old hunter worth his salt knows of the California Greythornes. A clan of werewolves who, through their contacts and wealth, hide their clandestine operations and their feeding habits to normal people.
Though to most, this was not a hindrance for they, as a hunter, were not really part of normal society and rarely have anyone that can be financially burdened and finagled, the Greythornes just didn't have the same bestiality to them as other werewolves. Their leader, Archibald, a human, has multiple pacts with both hunters and monsters alike. "Whadda ya mean most of them?"
"Well, turns out that the Ancestor bit his little sister."
"Ancestor?" Bobby asked, his headache intensifying from Garth's horrible storytelling. "The hell is that?"
"Oh, yeah. Turns out the Greythornes' werewolf curse came from the Ancestor and when he haw killed, it was killing the girl too."
"Makes sense. The girl's too young. She's dependent on her Sire's powers." Bobby reasoned out. "So you killed her sister?"
"No, that's the thing. I get in there, knife in hand, and tell me to inject her with some kind of serum." Garth's voice grew as if still unbelieving of the spectacle he had witnessed. "Told me not to ask, so I just injected it and turned her catatonic. Here's the thing: Half a day later? Alive and fully human. Human, Bobby. Not a werewolf. Human."
Eyes wide, hand trembling, Bobby responded. "You mean?"
"Yeah, he cured a werewolf, Bobby."
●●●●●●
On an alleyway within the city of angels, blood and ichor filled the pavement with limbs and organs that came with it smeared across the building walls.
"No... please... no... god..." a woman in a white blouse drenched in blood cried, pleading for mercy from a distant deity.
"Oh, honey. He won't save you~" A feminine voice, smooth and deep, echoed throughout the alley way.
This was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill demon hunting for the woman in a bloodied dress. Not that demons were run-of-the-mill. There were ten of them, all experienced hunters whom hunted and exorcised a demon or two in their lifetime. Hell, John Winchester even trained one of them. The guy whose sole purpose for living was to kill and find every demon topside.
But the moment they trapped her in the Devil's trap and tried to exorcise her, that's when all hell broke loose. Within moments, she had decapitated the hunter trained under John Winchester, then the vampire hunters they recruited, and by the time the woman had finished reciting the last part of the ritual, only two hunters remained.
The woman feared that yellow-eyed demon. The way she nonchalantly stepped over the trap and mocked her as she exsanguinated her partner. Her demonic laugh as she played a sick game of hide and seek that culminated in her group's organs and blood sprayed around the alleyway.
She has never even heard of yellow-eyed demons, only black ones.
"Had enough fun yet, Dagon?" Another voice startled the whimpering woman and her thoughts. Another yellow-eyed figure cloaked in darkness strode past her as he stood a few feet away from the other demon.
"Ohhh, Azazel. How's your little army going along, hmm~?" The female demon, Dagon, asked mockingly. Her eyes glowing brighter as she opened her mouth and breathed in, vacuuming the blood and strewn organs around the alley and, within seconds, left nothing but the whimpering hunter and their strewn weapons. "Salty with a hint of bitterness. 5 out of 7."
"Would've gone along faster had it not for my siblings being a traitorous scum!" Azazel bellows caused a nearby streetlamp to flicker and for wind to pick up.
"Oh, honey. We're demons. It's the name of the game," Dagon retorted with an amiable smile. "Besides... I've got a new toy to play with."
Dagon turned her attention towards the fleeing hunter before grabbing her ankle and dragging her screeching and resisting body to god knows where.
●●●●●●
Whoosh!
A flap of wings echoed throughout the Everglades as a fair-skinned, blonde-haired, chiseled man appeared before the murky waters. His feet hovering inches away from the dirt and grime swam deep in the marsh.
"Do you really think it was a coincidence, brother?" The blonde man asked of no one in particular. In fact, he was hoping one of his sibling would deign to answer.
"Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that Daddy-O left us and he ain't coming back so... Stop. Fucking. Calling. Us, Michael." Another figure appeared on a nearby wet log, his visage inscrutable by the bright light he emitted.
"We have an obligation, brother. Do you not care for our other siblings?"
"That's rich coming from you, Mikey."
Michael merely stared at the still waters of the Everglades.
"Even if essence appeared for a brief second, it doesn't mean he's back again. He left us so that means we don't have to do what he wants." Gabriel expounded on his reasoning, trying his best to sound impartial.
"You think yourself free from service, are you, Gabriel? Now, that father has left the premises." The man named Michael asked. He jerked his shoulder blades, conjuring a set of angelic silvered feathery wings that lit up the dark expanse. " Remember our purpose, our duty, our mission. The ultimate plan."
"Uh, remind me again? Was it the killing of our brother and destroying half of papacita's beloved creation? Was that it?" Gabriel smirked as he, too, conjured his wings, grey and ashen, yet lined with golden dust, like a night sky peppered with thousands of bright stars.
"Dare not mock me, brother, for my patience is not limited."
"And dare not condescend me, brother, for my apathy is unending"
Boom!
Thunder roared against the sky, the wind picked up to a blustering gale as the two showed off their powers.
"Your excellency," another voice interrupted the two's dick measuring contest. "The human world is beginning to feel the might of your prowess. Perhaps it would be best to finish this conversation somewhere... safer."
"Hmm, you advice has been noted, Zachariah." Michael replied.
"No, this conversation is done. Never contact me again, brother. I don't care if you kill each other, but don't ever involve me in it again."
Whoosh!
Another flap of wings brought Gabriel out of the Everglades, leaving Michael and Zachariah alone to their thoughts and the critters to enjoy the silver moonlight.
"I apologize for interrupting, your highness. But, it would seem that Lord Gabriel finds it still hard to--"
"You need not make excuses for him. He is a disappointment, but this one knows that he will be part of the ultimate plan. Whether he wants to or not."
"Then what of Lord Raphael?"
"Hmm, you might be right. Any news of him?"
"We had Castiel, Ishim, and Benjamin searching for him. I don't doubt their loyalty and effectiveness, your excellency."
"Hmmm. Best you don't, lest one find themselves... empty."
"Of-of course, your excellency."
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The two vanished from sight as silence once again reigned on the marsh.
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No more chapter for the whole week. I am sick. Sorry and thanks for understanding.
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