Bela Drabble; Dangerous Weapons verse
She could hear them whispering. Couldn't see them, never saw them, but their voices were as clear to her as if they had been alive. Bela had gotten very good at listening to the spirits. Granted, she had help. When she first found the necklace (a trinket she'd stolen a few years back, and never got around to figuring what it did), she was relying on Ouji boards, and tarot cards. Imperfect methods of communication with which she could easily misinterpret if she wasn't careful, but with the right magic, she found, anybody could talk to the dead.
For over a year they were all the conversation she ever had. The little town in Virginia that she'd picked to hide in was not one for big town news, nor was it small enough to fall victim to the many horror stories that haunt the world, so the spirits she talked to weren't even all that interesting. She discovered this years ago, when she still needed places to hide, and used what was left of her parents' money to buy out a lot of land, and a house. From then on she had years to learn how to make it disappear. Wards, traps, seals, bonds, artifacts. All designed to work in steady harmony with each other to keep out whatever big bad she could think of. Number one on that list being the hellhounds after her soul.
She never expected to use this house. She never expected to get away. To want to get away even. She had come to terms with what she deserved a long time ago. Yet, somehow as she was talking to Dean in what should have been her final moments, she was filled with a desperate desire to live. Life was fun, she didn't want to die. Not to mention she couldn't stand how he spoke to her with such hate. He didn't understand. Her life, her desires were so different from his. She didn't think of him as an enemy. He was a person. It was merely circumstance that put them against each other, but he didn't understand. He took it personally, and it was so very wrong. She didn't want to be hated. She just wanted to live. The idea that she could survive the hellhounds, and somehow make him see this and forgive her was laughable at best, but it was enough.
She ran.
She wasn't sure how she made it. Nothing she had on hand could sufficiently repel such evil, but somehow she got away. Somehow she made it to her sanctuary. Not unharmed, but alive.
She hadn't spoken to another human being since. Only the spirits.
It was a sad cruel irony. Bela wanted to live so desperately, and all she got for the effort was a large empty house that resembled a bomb shelter more than anything.
But that was all about to change.
Spirits were talkative once they knew someone could listen. They passed on news of the world. News that your average TV station wouldn't get. Like the fact that the end of the world was upon them. The downside of her location meant she could not learn anything specific, unfortunately, so for the first time since she holed herself up, Bela ventured to reach some of her old contacts. People who had thought she was long dead. many of them were dead ends, but eventually she pieced together the truth. Lilith was dead. The last seal broken.
Lucifer walked free.
Suddenly the world was a much scarier place. She couldn't hide from the devil if he really wanted to find her. She knew that. Her life now seemed hinged on the fact that she remained unimportant, but now that the world itself may end, hiding just didn't seem to be the best option.
That was when she met him again. Dean Winchester. The person who seemed like the entire reason she was even here now, though in truth she'd never wanted to die. He was alive, back from hell. An impossibility, but one that she was immensely grateful for.
They whispered to her that he was important. That he would be their salvation. She wasn't sure what to believe of that, he was just a person. An extraordinary person, sure, but just a person.
He was the only one who could help her.
What a sad irony.
"Dammit." She muttered as she paced around her living room. The sun was shining, children were playing outside, and it was pleasantly warm in the room. Yet the nerves coiled in her gut ruined the bright happiness. She felt sick to her stomach at the very idea of leaving the house, but there was no bloody way she was staying.
A few days, he said. It would take him at most a few days to get to her. She could wait a few more days to find out if she was free of her hell.
Bela stopped pacing, and tilted her head, listening. Looking down, she noticed that she was gripping her arms tight enough to leave deep half circles in her skin from her nails. "I'm not scared," she insisted, frowning at the reply. The thief sat down on the couch and stared at the floor. This wasn't any different from any other day. Though it seemed that waiting made all the difference.
Still, the first day was the easiest. even the second and third days passed almost effortlessly. But by the time the fourth day dawned, Bela could barely contain her nerves. What could have happened to take him this long? The spirits didn't know anything, or they wouldn't say. He'd better not be making her wait on purpose, just to make her squirm. This wasn't exactly easy for her either.
She paced around her house in the dark that night, more than comfortable enough with her surroundings to avoid bumping into things. She couldn't sleep. All she could thinkg about was how much she wanted OUT. She didn't care at this point what was waiting for her beyond the safety of her own front porch. She wanted to be out there among people. Living people she could see. People she could touch.
Bela leaned against the wall, and stared out the window at the street. She was so close, but closed off. It hurt to look at the life outside her home. Tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks.
What if something happened? What if he never came? What if, in the end, it didn't matter, and everything she'd done in her entire life had been for nothing?
She closed her eyes, and took a break. She felt as weak as she did that night one year ago, depending on the help of someone who didn't want to help her; knowing she didn't deserve it. everything was quiet. Not a spirit, nor even a cricket making any noise this night.
Bela was going to go mad if this wore on. In some ways she already had.
For over a year they were all the conversation she ever had. The little town in Virginia that she'd picked to hide in was not one for big town news, nor was it small enough to fall victim to the many horror stories that haunt the world, so the spirits she talked to weren't even all that interesting. She discovered this years ago, when she still needed places to hide, and used what was left of her parents' money to buy out a lot of land, and a house. From then on she had years to learn how to make it disappear. Wards, traps, seals, bonds, artifacts. All designed to work in steady harmony with each other to keep out whatever big bad she could think of. Number one on that list being the hellhounds after her soul.
She never expected to use this house. She never expected to get away. To want to get away even. She had come to terms with what she deserved a long time ago. Yet, somehow as she was talking to Dean in what should have been her final moments, she was filled with a desperate desire to live. Life was fun, she didn't want to die. Not to mention she couldn't stand how he spoke to her with such hate. He didn't understand. Her life, her desires were so different from his. She didn't think of him as an enemy. He was a person. It was merely circumstance that put them against each other, but he didn't understand. He took it personally, and it was so very wrong. She didn't want to be hated. She just wanted to live. The idea that she could survive the hellhounds, and somehow make him see this and forgive her was laughable at best, but it was enough.
She ran.
She wasn't sure how she made it. Nothing she had on hand could sufficiently repel such evil, but somehow she got away. Somehow she made it to her sanctuary. Not unharmed, but alive.
She hadn't spoken to another human being since. Only the spirits.
It was a sad cruel irony. Bela wanted to live so desperately, and all she got for the effort was a large empty house that resembled a bomb shelter more than anything.
But that was all about to change.
Spirits were talkative once they knew someone could listen. They passed on news of the world. News that your average TV station wouldn't get. Like the fact that the end of the world was upon them. The downside of her location meant she could not learn anything specific, unfortunately, so for the first time since she holed herself up, Bela ventured to reach some of her old contacts. People who had thought she was long dead. many of them were dead ends, but eventually she pieced together the truth. Lilith was dead. The last seal broken.
Lucifer walked free.
Suddenly the world was a much scarier place. She couldn't hide from the devil if he really wanted to find her. She knew that. Her life now seemed hinged on the fact that she remained unimportant, but now that the world itself may end, hiding just didn't seem to be the best option.
That was when she met him again. Dean Winchester. The person who seemed like the entire reason she was even here now, though in truth she'd never wanted to die. He was alive, back from hell. An impossibility, but one that she was immensely grateful for.
They whispered to her that he was important. That he would be their salvation. She wasn't sure what to believe of that, he was just a person. An extraordinary person, sure, but just a person.
He was the only one who could help her.
What a sad irony.
"Dammit." She muttered as she paced around her living room. The sun was shining, children were playing outside, and it was pleasantly warm in the room. Yet the nerves coiled in her gut ruined the bright happiness. She felt sick to her stomach at the very idea of leaving the house, but there was no bloody way she was staying.
A few days, he said. It would take him at most a few days to get to her. She could wait a few more days to find out if she was free of her hell.
Bela stopped pacing, and tilted her head, listening. Looking down, she noticed that she was gripping her arms tight enough to leave deep half circles in her skin from her nails. "I'm not scared," she insisted, frowning at the reply. The thief sat down on the couch and stared at the floor. This wasn't any different from any other day. Though it seemed that waiting made all the difference.
Still, the first day was the easiest. even the second and third days passed almost effortlessly. But by the time the fourth day dawned, Bela could barely contain her nerves. What could have happened to take him this long? The spirits didn't know anything, or they wouldn't say. He'd better not be making her wait on purpose, just to make her squirm. This wasn't exactly easy for her either.
She paced around her house in the dark that night, more than comfortable enough with her surroundings to avoid bumping into things. She couldn't sleep. All she could thinkg about was how much she wanted OUT. She didn't care at this point what was waiting for her beyond the safety of her own front porch. She wanted to be out there among people. Living people she could see. People she could touch.
Bela leaned against the wall, and stared out the window at the street. She was so close, but closed off. It hurt to look at the life outside her home. Tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks.
What if something happened? What if he never came? What if, in the end, it didn't matter, and everything she'd done in her entire life had been for nothing?
She closed her eyes, and took a break. She felt as weak as she did that night one year ago, depending on the help of someone who didn't want to help her; knowing she didn't deserve it. everything was quiet. Not a spirit, nor even a cricket making any noise this night.
Bela was going to go mad if this wore on. In some ways she already had.