Chapter 1
Your alarm wakes you up at your normal time which is 5:35am. You get up and stretch out the knots in your neck and back before climbing out of bed and pulling on your black and white crop top hoodie and black cargo pants. You stuff your feet into your black vans as well before heading for your small kitchen.
You head into your kitchen and take a peek at the calander only to feel your heart drop.
Today is the 14th year since a rogue vampire killed your parents and your brothers. Your hand comes up to rest on your scarred arm from all of the cutting you’ve done to try to get rid of the numbness. (Not that it really helped.) and you let out a long sigh.
You trudge your way to your coffee machine and go through the motions of making sure the coffee is ready to brew before sitting down at your small table. You open your apple laptop and go through your emails and through the updated news to see if you could figure out where the most recent obvious vampire attacks are.
You live in Wichita, Kansas. One of the five big cities in Kansas. Your home is the one where you grew up in before your parents were murdered.
You were put in the foster system and you stayed there until you turned 18 because no one wanted an unruly crazy teenager who witnessed your parents murder. You were a triplet before your brothers were killed next to your parents.
The only reason why you weren’t killed too is because when your brother Andrew told you to hide you did.
A tear fights to free itself and when it wins, you lightly brush it away. You started to hunt when your family was killed. And doing that in the system was a lot harder than it looked, you always ran away. Most often than not, you were caught mid hunt by the cops and you had to hide your weapons so you wouldn’t wind up in prison. So you have weapons hidden all over the country.
With you being 26 now, you found most of your weapons. Except for your special demon killing knife. To be honest you wouldn’t be surprised if another hunter found it and made it theirs.
The coffee machine dinged and you get up and make your cup of coffee with a little bit of creamer, so it won’t taste so bitter.
Your sipping your drink, and then your computer dings with an incoming message. You put down your coffee and open you laptop and see that you informer had found a case.
“Yes!” You crow as you write down the state and town before you grab your to go cup and dump the rest of you coffee into your cup. And then you race out the front door and shut it with care and lock it as well.
You put your to-go cup into the cup holder in your 1960 white chevorlet impala. You start up the beauty and take off.
Halfway through your drive you remember the letters you had hid in Florida. Funny that’s where your next case is.
When you were stuck in therapy they told you that if you write letters to your dead excuse me, your deceased family which is the proper psychological term they kept jamming through your head, it will help with your grief. And of course when they said that it pissed you off.
You finally arrive in the town that held your next case and you checked into the closest motel. You turned off your car that you had named ‘Athena’ and climbed out after driving to the room. It was a longer walk than normal so that’s why you took your car. You grabbed your keys and turned on the alarm so if someone tried to steal it, it would go off.
You grin and walk up to your door and open it. Like every motel room, it was dingy as hell and has two twin sized beds. You drop your duffle bag onto one of the beds and head into the bathroom to shower off the road.simultaneously say
You dress in your comfy sweats and hoodie. You exit the bathroom not paying attention to your sureoundings as you dry your hair with the towel.
You look up feeling eyes on you and you let out a juicy curse as you stare at two men that look like they are in their early thirties or something like that.
“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room.” You seethe. Both men stare at your long strawberry blonde hair. To you it feels like they were checking you out.
“Get out!” You point at the door until you realize that they are holding a key to the room as well.
“Wait, a sec shortstack!” The shorter of the two called out with wide eyes. His hands were held out in a calm down gesture and that pissed you off.
“Short stack is not my name, jack ass! It’s y/n! Now, how did you even get a key to my room?”
The taller one stepped forward and that was when I realized he looked younger than the shorter one. His hair was shaggy and longer than the older guy who had a crew cut.
“Okay, let’s all take a deep breath. I’m Sam. That’s my older brother Dean. We were given the key and they told us that this was the only room that was left.”
Dean scoffed as he dragged a hand through his hair as he said,
“They also said it will be a tight squeeze. Mother fucker. We are going to get this figured out and your coming with y/n.” You scowl but stomp towards your boots that are packed in your bag. You tug them on and follow the strangers like a kid who follows their parents. You’re watching your surroundings like the men do and you freeze when you see the 1967 black Chevorlet Impala that’s parked next to your impala.
“Holy shit!” You gasp as you make your way to the car.
“Y/n! Back away from Baby!” Dean yelled at you. You stop short and turn to him with your jaw slack.
“You own a 1967 Chevorlet IMPALA?!” You yell out. The guy’s faces were priceless when they realize you knew your cars. You step back and run a hand over your car and say,
“Dean, this is Athena. My beauty.” Dean’s mouth dropped as he stared st you in shock.
“Well, now you know the owner of the car.” Sam chuckled.
“It’s not just a car. It’s a masterpiece!” Both you and Dean simultaneously say. You grin at Dean’s face. He was shocked again. And Sam? He was staring at the both of you like you guys were crazy.
You shake your head as you head for the main office. The boys following behind you. You enter the room first and ring the table bell and wait for the man and woman who gave you the key for the room.
