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 church?” Sam repeated.

“Yes… why?” she asked with curiosity.

“Oh nothing”, Sam breathed, giving her a warm smile. It always seemed weird things happened when churches came into the picture, he thought to himself.

He sifted onto the road wondering where Dean was as he put the little care through the paces. He didn’t like being separated long as of late… not since… He shook his head.

“What’s bothering you Sam?” Stormy asked. “You seem so preoccupied.”

He squeezed her hand with a smile. “Nothing really Stormy, just been a long night is all.” He sidestepped her question carefully, no way was he even going there.

It wasn’t long before the road began curving and a large building came into looming clarity.

“Is this it? This where you live?” He asked as he pulled into the deserted church drive. Something was beginning to buzz at the base of his skull and he felt something wasn’t quiet right.

(more…)

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.

Dean stood in the shower, eyes closed, smiling. Even through the sound of the water running he could hear the gasps and the moans and the giggles. It were good sounds. After everything Sam had been through… it was the best sounds he had heard in a long time.

“Lucky bastard”, Dean mumbled still smiling.

But as the minutes dragged on he grew impatient. Did Sam really think he was going to spend the entire night in the ugly bathroom while he enjoyed himself in bed?

Enough was enough, Dean decided. Besides he was starting to get wrinkle-toes and wrinkle-fingers. He turned the shower off, making as much noise as he could stepping out of it and wrapping a towel around the waist. He cleared his throat loudly, counted to three, hoping the kids would at least have the sense to crawl under the covers, or something.

Then he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

(more…)

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.

“Well Ill be damned”, Sheriff Miller breathed as he bent over the spot Marissa’s had died. “Where the hell did she go?” He looked around nervously, his fingers smoothing over the well worn hilt of his 45.

Willard was playing out an Ace Ventura, gun out, moving left to right in exaggerated motions, scanning the dense shrubbery close by.

“Just what was I dragged out of bed for?” Came the irritated voice of the bony doctor, shoving his spectacles higher across his thin nose as he lifted Deans bloody and mangled shirt into the air.

Miller scratched his head. “I am sorry, Doc. But I swear that there is a body.”

The doctor nodded sadly. “Another dead girl? Who?”

“Someone named Marissa. No one from town.”

“Do you think the monster grabbed her?” Willard asked, his eyes widening with youthful enthusiasm.

(more…)

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.

(more…)

This is an excerpt from the journal of James Winchester. The story is centered around characters from the Winchester Novel Project.

My name is James.

Those were the first words I remember writing as a child. I guess I wrote them here because I didn’t know how else to begin.

My name is James Winchester. My mother’s name is Elissa Winchester and my father’s name is Luce. Mom died six months ago and I have never known my dad. My little brother’s name is Johnny.

I look up from these pages and look across the small bonfire to see him laying there, wrapped up in a blanket. His face is pale and haggard under that dark mop of hair of his. He’s been plagued by nightmares ever since mom died, hell we both have, and here in this Godforsaken city they have grown worse. It’s like the city itself produces the dreams and the visions that haunts us.

(more…)

A reply to a Smoke And Mirrors challenge posted on Realm of Fantasy. The character Terrel was created by Alterra.

He watched the man rest. In the flickering candle-light he was a creature of runes and enticing shadows. The chest raising slowly with every breath. At peace now, but only moments ago he had been fighting for his life, and for theirs. In sleep the Patryn looked so young, almost vulnerable. Terrel caught himself wanting to run his fingers through that dark tousled hair. He sighed, it had been so much easier when he had hated the man…

(more…)

More ships keep coming every day. Huge freight haulers returning from the border worlds to our station here at Venezia 5 at the very edge of the frontier. Their cargo holds not filled with metal or space-scrap but with humans. Thousand upon thousand plague victims. And it is getting worse. Every day there are more.

The healing zone is as big as a city but still there isn’t enough room, not enough power or medicine. The Daemons labour day and night, work-cycle after work-cycle to expand the Healing Zone, to ad unit after unit, and still it isn’t enough.

(more…)