This story is written by Alterra von Feures and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural.
Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims.
The alley behind the Goat’s Head looked like any other alley behind any other bar. Dean had seen a lot of them.
He buried his fingers in Marissa’s luxurious hair and closed his eyes focusing on the sensation of her lips against his of her hands struggling with the buttons of his shirt. Finally she simply ripped it apart, sending the buttons flying.
“You feel so good”, she mumbled, running her fingers over his chest, raking her nails across his nipples causing him to shiver.
The fog was still thick, still enveloping them. And now it had a tangy, salty smell.
“Strange”, Dean mumbled.
“What?” Marissa asked, smiling at him.
“I think I can smell the sea.”
She laughed. “You think you can smell the sea at a time like this? Honey…” She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “I think you think too much…” She claimed his mouth again, savagely nibbling at his lower lip.
A moan escaped Dean’s lips as he returned the favour, slipping his tongue deep into the wealth of her soft mouth. The scent of sea almost cloying now as his fingers roved over her firm high set breasts.
He pulled his head back, some deep set sense banging an alarm across the nape of his neck, hairs catching attention as he pulled Marissa way from his face.
“What on earth is the matter with y-”
Her voice grinding into a low grunt as something slammed into her from behind Knocking Dean off balance, tripping over backwards he fell with the full weight of Marissa coming down on top of him. Her mouth going slack, blood poured from her lips onto his face and throat as he struggled to get out from under her… freezing still as a creature came into focus above them. An apparition become to real flesh and bone as it leered down at him with huge clawed hands, mouth filled with jagged teeth. The smell of ocean becoming a rank rotting fish odour. Its eyes glowing an eerie green.
His mind struggled with the concept of what it was as it began moving closer leaning over the woman’s body as if deciding where to bite first.
Fideal. It came to him in a rush as the female appearing creature laid teeth to the back of Marissa’s body. He had heard once long ago his father fought such a creature of ocean legend.
Dean listened in a sickened state as flesh was ripped from bone.
No!” He screamed, shoving Marissa quivering body off his. Flinging salt that had broke open in his pocket at the foul stringy haired being. It hissed but seemed unaffected by the salt. Its lips snarling as it wafted back into shadow, unwilling to fight the male of Dean’s species …
He sucked in a huge breath, looking down at Marissa torn body. “Jesus, this is just friggin great!” Turning fast as headlights caught up his face in the bright glow. His blood spattered face and chest a neon call sign.
“Mary Mother of Jesus, what the hell is going on back here!” Sheriff Miller spit out past the wad of beechnut chewing tobacco packed in his cheek. His plump hand reaching for the shotgun as Dean slipped through the back door into the Goats Head Bar. Willard loaded for bear as they hit the brakes and leaped from the police car, lights flashing vivid colours over the dead girl’s body.
Sam gazed into Stormy’s soft sweet eyes as they slow danced to Nazareth’s ‘Love Hurts’. Their bodies swaying gently together.
“I can’t believe how sweet you are” he said, feeling lame for the sappy words.
She only smiled happily tightening her arms around his waist.
The sudden scream broke through his revelry like a chainsaw against his head.
He turned letting go of the girl as Dean shirtless and spattered in blood, shot across the bar-room. The bubble gum chewing bar-girl letting go another shocked screech for the trail of blood he left along the way.
“Oh shit Dean!” Sam grabbed his brother by the arms. “Are you hurt?” Gasping in relief as the shaken man shook his head furiously.
“I’m fine. But we gotta go. Now, Sam!”
Sam needed no more prodding, this was a scenario that had happened once to often to them as they scattered for the front door. Sam gave the delicate girl a lopsided grin. “Was nice meeting you, Stormy”, He called out feeling lamer than ever as he put the footwork to the floor.
“Stop right there you murdering bastards!” The good deputy Willard called out with mighty authority, rasing the shot gun chest level just as the Winchester boys got to the front door. Sheriff Miller stood next to the younger man, completely blocking the way with his bulky frame, his own shotgun too aimed at the escaping strangers.
“Look sir”, Sam started, but the click when Willard cocked the rifle silenced him. Dean’s hands were already in the air and his younger brother followed his example.
“Oh my god!” The waitress shrieked. “Is it them? Are they the monsters that killed Laura and the others?”
“Shut up, Beth!” Sheriff Millard snapped without letting his attention waver from the Winchester boys even for a second.
Suddenly Stormy came up to stand beside the Sheriff. “No…” She said, her eyes lingering on Sam’s face before she turned to the Sheriff, putting a small hand on his arm. “It can’t be them. They just got here. You would have seen them in town had they been here earlier. It’s not them, Sheriff.”
The man relaxed somewhat, not really lowering his shotgun but at least he wasn’t pointing directly at Dean’s head anymore.
“I think you two boys better come down to the station with me”, he said. “Give a statement and then… we’ll see.”
“Thanks”, Sam said, realising his bent up breath.
Stormy just smiled at him.
As the Sheriff herded them out the door, Sam glanced over his shoulder. He could still vividly recall the feeling of the girl’s lips against his, the way her petite body felt in his arms as they danced. He wanted to grab a last glimpse of her, something to remember.
Stormy stood in the same spot as before, accentuated by the old spotlights that lit up the patch of open floor that served as dance floor. Her copper coloured hair was set aflame by the light and the simple grey dressed looked like the mysterious shroud of some long lost Goddess.
“What are you smiling about?” Dean demanded when they were sitting side by side in the back of the police car.
“I hade a good time tonight”, Sam said.
“Yeah, that’s great. I’m so happy for you”, Dean drawled.
“No yapping back there!” The Sheriff commanded, eyeing them in the rear-view mirror.
“Sorry, Sheriff”, Dean said.
When the man didn’t start the engine the brothers shared a glance.
“Is something wrong?” Sam asked.
The sheriff looked up again to meet the young man’s imploring eyes in the mirror. “No, no…” he said. “It’s just that… I have to call the Doc to get down here, to take care of the body. Are you related to the woman?” He asked Dean.
“No. I just met her. I thought she lived here in town.”
Miller shook her head. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“She said her name was Marissa”, Dean said slowly, stunned and unable to hide it. “I never thought to ask for a last name. She showed us the way to the motel when we arrived here a couple of hours ago.”
“I am sorry”, Miller said, a little softer. “I got a good look of her face and I can swear on a stack of bibles that I’ve never seen her before. Did you perhaps see the killer?” He asked, there was a hesitation in the burly man’s voice that made Dean share another glance with his brother.
“You know what it is your hunting”, Dean said, it was a statement and not a question.
The Sheriff turned in his seat so that he could face the two young men in the back of his car. “I know it isn’t human.”
Dean’s face looked haggard in the pale light spilling from the bright blue juice-mixers on top of the car. The splatter of blood across his face looked black, sinister. “It’s called Fideal”, he said. “A sort of sea creature.”
“Sea?” The Sheriff asked. “But we’re miles from the sea here.”
Dean shrugged. “I know what I saw.”
“Fideal…” The Sheriff mumbled, rubbing his forehead. He suddenly seemed very tired. “What else do you know about it? And how come you know about the existence of such creatures at all?”
Dean turned to his younger brother. “It’s your turn to do the explaining, Sammy.”
“We’re Hunters”, Sam said. “We hunt down and kill things like this Fideal, and ghosts and…”
“Demons, shape-shifters, vampires”, Dean filled in.
Sheriff Miller just nodded. “Hunters you say…”
Dean shifted a little in his seat. “I’m guessing we’re not the first ones you met.”
“Why would you think that?”
“People usually say things like ‘Ghosts and demons don’t exist. You must be crazy’.”
Miller smiled a little. “Not much get passed you, does it, son?”
“Not much”, Dean agreed.
“But you’re right”, Miller continued. “I met a hunter when I was still working as a Depute back in Derry. It’s… oh, fifteen, sixteen years ago. There was something attacking the children. At first we thought it was a paedophile, using some sort of drug that put the children in a coma… But how wrong we where…” He shook his head, his eyes growing distant as he thought back to the horrific events.
“What was it?” Sam asked in that soft voice of his.
The Sheriff turned to him. “A sort of demon, never found out what it was called. This man helped us. Damn”, he chuckled. “He came rolling into town in this big black car like some hero out of an old western. John Winchester was his name-”
“Dad?” Sam exclaimed. Dean gave a low whistle.
“Talk about coincidence”, he said.
Sheriff Miller regarded them with new interest. “John Winchester is your father?”
“Yeah”, Dean said. “I mean… he was.”
“He died a little over a week ago.” Sam could feel the now familiar pain of loss and grief tearing at his heart again.
“I’m sorry to hear that, boys”, Miller said. “Your dad, he was a very special man. A good man.” Before they could respond a white car drove in to the parking lot. “Here is the Doc now”, Miller said. “I’ll just talk to him for a minute and then I’ll take you boys back to the motel.”
“I thought we were going to be interrogated down at the station”, Dean said.
Miller smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary now. Not unless you absolutely want me to.”
“Nah”, Dean replied with a small grin. “I can survive one evening without having been thrown in jail.”
“Alright then.” Miller stepped out of the car to talk to the tiny little man that was trying to coax a large doctor’s bag out the passenger seat of his car.
“So…” Dean asked with feign disinterest. “What’s her name, Sammy?”
“Who… what?” Sam mumbled his eyes on the Doctor as the bent figure headed toward the back of the bar followed by a babbling Deputy Willard. The Sheriff waving him off to explain what the boys had disclosed.
“Sam”, Dean said, his gaze steady as Sam turned his head to finally look at him, really look at him. Fear and pain had his usually grey brown eyes a solid dark grey.
“You scared the shit out of me Dean…” He mumbled with tight control on his emotions. “I-I dont think I could liv- I mean handle it if anything happened to you.” His brow was knotted his lips tight as he stared back into his brothers eyes.
“Sammy…” Dean murmured, squeezing the young mans shoulder. “I’m not going to die… at least no quicker than you.” That charming gleam jewelling his gold flecked eyes as he gave Sam a shake.
Sam shook his head but managed to come down another notch from overload land, taking a deep breath the scent of dried blood was not a great odour wafting off Dean.
“What did you see of this thing, Dean?” He asked as his eyes roved over the blood flecked skin of his upper torso.
“Well she wasn’t my type, too many fangs and talons. Plus she doesn’t like men.” He grinned, dealing with it the only way he knew how. “Talk about ruining a good time… that bitch!”
Sam had to laugh then.
“Oh and she didn’t seem bothered by salt in the least”, he added as an after thought.
“Great one of our best weapons… useless”, Sam added. Dean was smiling at him still.
‘What!” He burst out.
“You didn’t answer my question and she’s walking over here right now.” Dean couldn’t have been happier for the way Sam’s face lit up as he caught sight of copper red hair floating in the breeze.