FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination|
Author of 15 Stories |
“WILD THINGS”
Episode 1: In The Beginning Chapter I – The Hunt
written by .writer
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fanfic. It takes place after season two, but before season three (which I haven't seen yet). The first chapter is a little imperfect in terms of characterization (mostly ignoring the white elephant of Dean's impending demise), but it should get better. Also, when I created the supernatural mystery (which I borrowed from an abandoned story of mine), I didn't notice the similarities to the first season episode. Oops. I left it, though, because it isn't important. This first chapter is about ten pages typed, a little over 3800 words. Loooong. I plan on it being around 20 chapters, so I hope you like lengthy stories.
This is dedicated to my amazing friend Kelly (awesomelymehere on who first introduced me to Supernatural. Go Kelly! And if you're a fan of Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, go read her story Christmas With The Cullens. 'Tis funny.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own the television show Supernatural. I do not own the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester, as well as others that may appear. I do own the fictional town of Morrison, Virginia, the characters Gloria Hammond, Josh the lifeguard, etc. I do own the text of this story, unless otherwise stated.
In short, don't own, don't sue. :)
Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you enjoy this story. And now, I present "Wild Things". trumpet fanfare
Sometimes, Dean Winchester really, really wished he could be that guy, instead of the guy who spends his last summer hunting down supernatural creatures.
But he wasn't that guy, so he and his brother headed out to Morrison, Virginia.
“So what exactly is happening here?” Dean asked his brother. Sam looked at the pile of newspaper clippings in his hands.
“Kids keep drowning in a public pool. Uh, one every summer for the past seven years.”
“And what makes this a supernatural deal, and not just crappy lifeguards?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Well, it seems strange that so many kids would die in the same pool, at about the same time.”
Dean turned slightly to look at his brother, still keeping one eye on the road. “Wait, you're saying all these kids keep drowning on the same day, every year?”
“Not quite,” Sam answered. “The first death was Gwendolyn West, age 8, in 2000. She drowned on June 23. The other deaths occurred within a week of the 23rd.”
Drumming his fingers on the Impala's steering wheel, Dean returned his gaze to the highway. “It could be the anniversary of something. Or maybe some creature that only needs to feed once a year.”
“Maybe.” Sam shuffled through the papers. He stopped at a map of the state. “Hmm.”
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“The town is on a river, the Bourne. It flows into the Atlantic.”
“So? Lot of towns are on rivers.”
“The riverfront is less than a mile from the pool.”
Dean paused his finger tapping. “You think there might be a connection?”
“Yeah. I saw something once in Dad's journal about kelpies. Water demons,” Sam explained.
“So this could be a water demon killing kids.”
Sam shrugged. “It's a possibility.”
Dean nodded thoughtfully, then turned the radio up and stepped harder on the gas.
The sun was raining heat and light, and the pool was packed with screaming children and frustrated parents, all in bathing suits. Dean's eyes lingered on a group of girls in their late teens sunbathing near the diving board. All of them were wearing revealing bikinis.
“Cradle robber,” Sam commented as the got out of the Impala. Dean grinned and slipped on his sunglasses.
The two brothers strolled through the pool's gate, slipping by a noisy family of four. Among the swimmers and sunbathers, they stuck out like a sore thumb; jeans, t-shirts, jackets despite the heat (to conceal the guns they now carried constantly). Though they tried to be inconspicuous as they looked for any clues, it wasn't surprising that they were approached by a lifeguard within five minutes of their arrival.
“Excuse me, but are you two members here?” The young man was tanned, muscled, and blond. He looked like he played quarterback at the local high school and worked at the pool during the summer for the bikini factor.
Dean took the lead. “Nope, we aren't.”
Sam looked at him in disbelief.
The lifeguard frowned. “Well, then you need to leave. The free swim time ended two hours ago.”
“Oh, we're not here to swim. Actually, we were sent down here by the company that owns the pool,” Dean lied.
“You mean the city sent you?” the lifeguard asked doubtfully.
“Yeah, that's what I meant. They wanted an inspection of the pool, and the lifeguards.” Dean smiled, doing his best to look friendly.
The lifeguard wasn't buying it. Maybe he was smarter than he looked. “Why would they do that?”
“Well, I'm sure you've heard about the drownings in the past, haven't you,” Sam asked, catching on. When the lifeguard nodded, he continued. “The city wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any more this summer. We're supposed to make sure that there are no safety concerns, that the lifeguards are doing their job, that sort of thing.” He smiled too. “Apparently we don't need to worry about you, though. You're certainly watchful.”
The lifeguard still looked doubtful, but he must have decided it was easier to accept the brothers' explanation. “Well, if you need anything, ask. My name's Josh.”
“Nice to meet you, Josh,” Dean replied, managing to conceal the sarcasm well enough. “Well, we had better get back to work.”
The Winchesters left Josh, who returned to subtly ogling the bevy of lovely young ladies without a second thought.
Exchanging a look, the brothers split up and circled around the pool, scrutinizing it for any sign of the supernatural. When they met up again, they both shook their heads.
“Well, the 23rd isn't until next week,” Dean said. “Maybe the beastie isn't rearing its ugly head yet.”
“I guess. Maybe we should go over the information again, see if there was any connection between the victims,” Sam suggested, checking his watch. “It's nearly two o'clock. Let's go grab some lunch.”
Dean nodded, and the pair began winding their way back to the pool's entrance, trying without much success to avoid being splashed by the unruly children. “Psychotic rug rats,” Dean muttered as he swerved to avoid a diminutive boy armed with a water gun. Sam laughed, but it was a stressed, uncomfortable laugh. Dean noticed the tense sound; his brother had been wearing this facade since the events of the past few months. It was like Sammy was determined to be happy for Dean. Truthfully, Dean wanted very badly to let it continue. It was easier than the confrontation that would have to come. Dean knew how Sammy was feeling, but it didn't change anything.
As they climbed into the Impala, Dean wondered how long he and Sam would be able to ignore the obvious. Then he shook his head and shoved the thought away. There was work to do.
Lunch was burgers at a diner, and the conversation was about the children who had drowned in the pool. It wasn't a cheerful meal.
An array of photographs was spread across the table. Seven pictures of seven children. Ranging in age from four to ten, the kids seemed to stare at Dean. He carefully took his fury at their deaths and packed it away, determined that it wouldn't get the better of him. He wanted to find whatever had ended their lives, and he wanted to kill it.
Gwen West. Harvey Leons. Sasha Plum. Tyler Lorman. Robin Jefferson. Aaron Silman. Jamie Andrews. They had died a year after one another, and no one had made the connection until Sam and Dean had.
“Well, the kids are boys and girls, multiple backgrounds, multiple ethnicities...” Sam thought aloud.
“So, we have an equal-opportunity monster here.” Dean munched a French fry, looking at the notes Sam had made about the victims.
“I guess kelpies aren't picky.” Sam pushed his stack of papers away. “I dunno, man. They seem to be random victims. Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Then we look at something else.”
Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother, who was chewing on more fries. “Like what?”
Dean pointed at the photo of Gwen West, a cute little girl with pig tails and a gap-toothed grin. “Why did the deaths start with her? She died nearly fifteen years after the pool was built. Maybe our beastie hasn't always been a resident.”
They left the diner and returned to the motel they were staying at. It was near the riverfront, and one could faintly hear the rushing water.
For most of the afternoon, they checked through the books they had with them for information about kelpies. They didn't find much. Finally, around six, Dean slammed the book he was reading shut and stood, stretching. “Okay, that was useless. I need a break. I'm going to go get a drink, you coming?”
Sam nodded and stood as well. They left the room and walked down the street. There was a bar a few blocks down. The sun was still bathing the city in light; it wouldn't set for several hours.
The bar had a good-sized crowd. The brothers bought some beers and found a table, sitting down and glancing around out of habit to make sure they were out of earshot.
They drank in silence for a while. There wasn't much to say, as they had spent all day talking about the case, and any other topic would be too risky.
After some time, Sam cleared his throat. “Dean. I think...”
“Ah ha!” Dean interrupted, jumping out of his seat. “Sorry, Sammy, can't talk. I have to follow up on a lead.”
“But-” Sam protested. It was too late; Dean had already disappeared into the crowd. Sam sighed and took another swig of his beer.
Dean pushed through the masses of people and caught up with the blond lifeguard, Josh. The young man was part of a group of college-aged people. By the trapped expression on the kid's face, Dean figured he had caught him somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. Excellent, thought Dean. People talk if they think it will get them out of trouble.
“Josh, my man!” he greeted the lifeguard, slapping him on the shoulder. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
Josh looked around nervously. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
They moved away from the others, into a darker corner of the bar. “So,” Dean began. “About those drownings I mentioned this morning.”
“What about them?” Josh asked, confused.
Dean smiled in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. “I was just wondering if you could tell me about them. Maybe something that wouldn't have been in the official reports.”
Josh calmed down a bit, deciding that there was no danger in this topic. “Well, I've only worked at the pool during the last two summers, so I don't know much about what happened before then. I wasn't working the day the Silman kid died, but I was when Jamie Andrews drowned.”
“Okay, then. What can you tell me about that day?”
Josh shrugged. “It was a pretty normal day. Lots of kids. Jamie swam a little too far out, into the deep end. Me and the other lifeguards tried to get there in time, but it was too late.”
Dean nodded, then risked a question. “Did you happen to notice anything strange, right before Jamie died? A strange sound, a dark shape in the water?”
“No,” Josh answered, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “Nothing weird at all.”
The kid was starting to spook, so Dean smiled again. “Thanks, man. You've been a real help.” He walked away from a very confused Josh and returned to the table where Sam was still sitting.
“So, I just talked to the lifeguard kid. He said there wasn't anything strange about the way the last kid died. No shadow in the water or anything.”
Sam nodded. “So...maybe it isn't a kelpie.”
“I guess we should start looking at other possibilities,” Dean said. “But not tonight. I'm exhausted.” His gaze trailed after a pretty young girl walking with some friends. Without a word, he stood and followed.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Exhausted, my ass.”
Nine o'clock found the brothers leaving the bar with varying emotions. Sam was scowling in irritation, while Dean was grinning about his success with the lovely Natalie. They walked silently down the sidewalk, ignoring each other.
When Dean started whistling, it was too much for Sam. He stopped and turned to face his brother. “What the hell is your problem?”
Dean stopped as well. “Uh...I was just whistling, Sammy. If you want, I'll stop.” His tone was puzzled.
“Don't play dumb with me, Dean. You know this isn't about the whistling.” Sam was breathing hard, his jaw tensed with anger.
“I don't know...Sam!” Before Dean could finish his denial, Sam had pitched forward, clutching his skull in pain. Dean rushed over, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. “Sammy, come on. Talk to me, man.”
Sam gasped, his eyes flying open. “A girl,” he managed to choke out before his eyes closed again. He groaned and fell to his knees. Dean knelt with him, quickly scanning the area for anybody. The street was empty.
“What girl, Sammy? Where?”
Sam shook his head in frustration. “I dunno...she's getting attacked. By a demon.” Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked up. “There.”
He jumped up off the ground and started running toward a nearby alley. Dean followed his brother. “What's going on, Sam?” he called after his brother.
“I don't know!” Sam shouted back.
They ran to the alley, then paused to look around. “It wasn't here,” Sam said as he looked over the Dumpsters inhabiting the thin slip of asphalt. “But I think it was in this direction.”
“You said this chick was getting attacked by a demon, Sammy?” Dean asked as he pulled his gun out of the waistband of his jeans. As he checked the clip, he looked at his brother, who was frowning in uncertainty.
“I think that was what I saw, but I'm not...wait a second.” He pointed at a neon sign in the next street. “That was in my vision. The girl, she was standing under it when she was attacked.”
“Okay, then,” Dean said.
Stepping as softly as they could, the brothers walked through the alley. When they reached the end, Sam paused, casting a look down the street. It was empty.
Looking with him, Dean began to ask a question, but he stopped when a girl rounded the corner. She was walking alone, purse slung over her shoulder. “Is that her?” Dean whispered. Sam nodded.
There was no sign of a demon. The girl walked without any sign of apprehension, but as she came closer to the neon sign, she paused for a moment. Slowly, she looked around. Her eyes swept over the alley where the brothers waited without stopping. After a moment, she continued walking. Her hands, previously shoved in her jean pockets, slipped out and hung by her sides, swinging in a loose rhythm.
“Should we stop her?” Dean asked. “At least get closer so we can get the demon when it shows up.”
“No,” Sam answered flatly.
Dean turned his head to look at his brother, surprised by Sam's tone. He sounded suspicious, even angry. “What do you mean?”
Before Sam could reply, the girl reached the neon sign. As soon as she stepped under it, a dark mist flowed out of the nearby store. It formed a cloud that hovered behind the girl, who had paused under the glare of the sign.
Dean started to move forward, but Sam caught him by the shoulder. “Don't.”
“What? Why not?” Dean asked quickly. His brother just shook his head.
In the street, the demon's essence was still floating without movement behind the girl, who was likewise standing completely motionless. The brothers watched with bated breath for some kind of action.
After a moment of what Dean imagined to be fiendish anticipation, the demon shifted. It began to flow towards the girl. What happened next was so surprising, Dean would have put it down to too much alcohol if Sam hadn't seen it too.
Instead of being possessed or destroyed by the demon, the girl took a step forward, out of the thing's reach. Then, she spun and held her hands up before her. The mist paused, then continued.
This didn't seem to faze the girl. She simply raised her hands higher and pushed. Her hands suddenly burned with light.
“Holy shit...” Dean breathed. Beside him, Sam was tensed with energy.
The mist recoiled from the light, darting back away from the girl. She stepped forward, pursuing it, and it fled again. The light burned even brighter, a corona of shining white fire. Black mist dissolved into nothing as the demon disappeared.
When it was gone, the girl dropped her hands, the radiance fading away. Dean blinked at the sudden darkness. As his eyes readjusted, the girl turned and continued on her way, her hands back in her pockets. She was walking faster now, though her shoulders were slumped more than they had been five minutes previous. As she disappeared around the next corner, the brothers turned to look at each other. Dean was confused and curious, but Sam was frowning darkly.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked his brother. Sammy just shrugged, eyes fixed on the point where the girl had last been visible.
Following the girl home was Dean's idea. Sam wanted to just forget the whole thing and go back to the motel, but Dean insisted.
“We have to know who she is,” he told Sammy. “What she did – I've never seen anything like that before. She could be friendly, or she could be an enemy. We need to find out which.”
“I don't like it,” Sam argued. “Something about her feels wrong.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks for that information, Jedi Master. Come on.”
They hurried to the corner the girl had turned on. Reaching it, they paused and looked around. Dean narrowed his eyes; he could just see the girl, a few blocks ahead of them, fading into the night as she walked farther down the road. He could only see her now because of the streetlights.
Following her was easy; she didn't seem to be aware of surroundings anymore, not like she had right before the demon had appeared. The brothers followed her right up to her building. They waited in the shadows of the bakery across the street; after a few minutes, a light on the first floor came on. A minute later, a silhouette shaped like a young woman walked in front of the window. Dean made a mental note of the apartment's location.
They returned to the motel. A few calls later, they knew the girl's name. A quarter of an hour after that, they had all the information Sam could find about her on the Internet. It wasn't much.
“Gloria Hammond,” Sam read from the screen. “Twenty-five years old. No husband, children, or siblings. Parents live in Richmond. She's never been arrested. Dean, her record's completely spotless.” He looked up at his brother. “Whatever she is, she's good at keeping a low profile.”
Dean shrugged. “Doesn't matter. We know her name and where she lives. Tomorrow we'll take a look around her apartment, see what we can find.”
“Are you sure?” Sammy was frowning again. It seemed to be his most common expression these days. “We don't want to get mixed up in something bad. We have enough issues as it is.”
“You had a vision about her,” Dean pointed out. “That doesn't just happen for no reason.”
“It could have been more about the demon than this Gloria woman.” It was plain that Sam was only arguing for form's sake. He knew that the next day would find them breaking and entering Gloria Hammond's home.
“Yeah,” snorted Dean. “Right. Whatever you say, Sammy.”
“Jerk,” Sam mumbled, shutting the laptop.
Dean smirked. “Bitch.”
True enough, the next day found the Winchesters sitting in the Impala across the street from Gloria Hammond's apartment. The digits on the clock were getting closer and closer to noon, and Miss Hammond had yet to make an appearance. They knew she was in the apartment – they had seen her silhouette moving past the windows enough.
Dean's stomach was getting more indignant in its demands for food when the door to the apartment complex swung open. Gloria Hammond stepped out, looking none the worse for her adventures the previous night. She walked slowly down the sidewalk, smiling at passersby and occasionally pausing to exchange a few words. After a few minutes, she turned the corner and vanished from sight.
“About damn time,” Dean muttered, climbing out of the Impala. Sam followed him into the building. They found the correct apartment and proceeded to break in. It was locked; Sam picked the lock while Dean kept watch. When the younger Winchester succeeded, the brothers entered the apartment.
It was not what they expected. Demon-fighting aside, Gloria Hammond was your average girl in her mid-twenties. Naturally, her apartment should have reflected that.
Instead, it appeared to have been invaded by a greenhouse.
Plants were everywhere; pots of flowers stood on every stable flat surface (and elsewhere, like on a teetering stack of books). Two ficus trees flanked a desk. As Dean stared, a leaf fell from one tree and landed on the computer's keyboard. An insect flew by his ear; he swatted at it and continued through the apartment. The kitchen was even more garden-like: rows of potted herbs on the counter, an entire freaking orange tree in front of the open window. Dean shook his head. This woman was obsessed.
“Hey, Dean! You better come see this.” Dean found his brother in Miss Hammond's bedroom. He smirked and began to comment, but he stopped when he saw what Sam was staring at.
The bed was like the rest of the apartment in its almost-normalcy. White linens and a jade green comforter. The un-normal part was, again, a plant. Vines, to be exact. They sprouted out of twin planters on either side of the bed, then twisted around the frame of the bed, trailing up to the headboard and meeting in the center. The entire bed was encircled by the dark green leaves. Dean thought they might have been ivy.
“Dude.” Dean turned to his brother. “This is kinky. Like, hippie-kinky. Or something.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “There's something really weird going on here, Dean. Why would anyone have so many plants in their apartment? It's one thing to have a few potted ferns or something, but this woman has nature everywhere!” His eyes strayed to the bed. He frowned. “It's strange. I don't like it. And you know what? Half these plants aren't even in season.”
Dean nodded. He didn't understand either. “Okay, let's review. Gloria Hammond is totally normal, except for demon-attacks and a really green thumb. What's the connection between the two?”
A soft voice spoke behind the brothers. “I think the more appropriate question is why the hell are there two strange men in my bedroom, and what am I going to do to them?”
The Winchester brothers turned to see a very angry Gloria Hammond standing in the doorway, glaring at them.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it:)
:
:
:
:
