SPN Mileage AU: First Release 1/7
SUMMARY: Something awful has been released in Oak Park, Illinois. Can two reversed brothers, an angel with a split personality and a fourth individual vanquish it?
NOTE: This is the first of an arc. The next story is part of it, then there are a few stand-alones, then back to the arc. As Mileage started out with an arc based on "All Hell Breaks Loose", this is one based on "The Magnificent Seven" (the SPN episode, not the TV series. Sorry. *grin*)
THEN
The robed figures drew closer and closer, and the young redhead sobbed out, "No....please, no...."
"Aah," one of the figures moaned. "The sound of despair....intoxicating...."
"You can enjoy your high later," another barked. "You've got a mission to complete."
The first one sighed and took the knife. "Very well. But you owe me a hit."
"Deal."
The woman's whimpers turned to gurgles as the knife was sliced across her throat.
Her blood was collected and the light slowly went out of her eyes. Her body was pulled out of the chair roughly and thrown onto a trash pile.
Her blood was poured onto a sigil carved into the floor. It began to smoke and the figures began to chant.
Thick black smoke poured from it, and hovered around the robed figures before it slid into the mouth of the one who'd spoken of intoxicating despair.
He opened inky black eyes and his lips curved into a cold smile. "You have done well, my children," he purred. "This place is mine for the taking. And once it is mine in fact -- we will raise my brothers and sisters!"
NOW
The instant her car passed the sign that read OAK PARK 10, she frowned. Going on a couple of miles, she suddenly hissed, her blue eyes snapping black.
She spun the wheel, making a U-turn and getting as many miles between herself and the town as she could.
When she pulled over to put gas in her car, she picked up the phone resting on the seat and punched in the single pre-programmed number.
"Hello?" came the slurred response.
She blinked in unfaked shock. "Are you asleep or are you drunk?"
The chuckle warmed her through. "Neither. I was close to sleep, though."
"Thought angels never slept."
"I occasionally like to indulge." His voice held nothing but pleasantness. "You've never contacted me before. Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted, getting back into her car and turning the engine over. "I'm a few miles outside of Oak Park, Illinois. the closer I got, the more -- wrong -- it felt."
"Ruby," he chided softly. "Turn off the car and pay for the gas."
Grousing, she obeyed. "I will never understand money," she growled as she headed for her car again. "It was so much easier paying for things in herbs or food or sexual favours."
He laughed, warm and rich, in her ear. "You aren't that old. You understand money. What you don't understand is my insistence that you do things the honest way."
"Damn your mind-reading," she snarled. "Why do you keep insisting on this, anyway?"
"Think of it as a way of helping both you stay out and the soul still there get out of Hell."
"Fine."
"Wrong, how?"
She sighed. "I lost control. I felt my eyes change and I -- I felt... It was like being back in Hell. Such pain and anger and want..."
"Find a motel nearby. Call me when you've got a room. We're coming."
"We?" She frowned at the dial tone. "'We'? Who's 'we'?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Seven hundred miles away, Dean Winchester jerked awake, breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat, with the mental screams of a redheaded ghost ringing in his ears.
On to part two...
NOTE: This is the first of an arc. The next story is part of it, then there are a few stand-alones, then back to the arc. As Mileage started out with an arc based on "All Hell Breaks Loose", this is one based on "The Magnificent Seven" (the SPN episode, not the TV series. Sorry. *grin*)
THEN
The robed figures drew closer and closer, and the young redhead sobbed out, "No....please, no...."
"Aah," one of the figures moaned. "The sound of despair....intoxicating...."
"You can enjoy your high later," another barked. "You've got a mission to complete."
The first one sighed and took the knife. "Very well. But you owe me a hit."
"Deal."
The woman's whimpers turned to gurgles as the knife was sliced across her throat.
Her blood was collected and the light slowly went out of her eyes. Her body was pulled out of the chair roughly and thrown onto a trash pile.
Her blood was poured onto a sigil carved into the floor. It began to smoke and the figures began to chant.
Thick black smoke poured from it, and hovered around the robed figures before it slid into the mouth of the one who'd spoken of intoxicating despair.
He opened inky black eyes and his lips curved into a cold smile. "You have done well, my children," he purred. "This place is mine for the taking. And once it is mine in fact -- we will raise my brothers and sisters!"
NOW
The instant her car passed the sign that read OAK PARK 10, she frowned. Going on a couple of miles, she suddenly hissed, her blue eyes snapping black.
She spun the wheel, making a U-turn and getting as many miles between herself and the town as she could.
When she pulled over to put gas in her car, she picked up the phone resting on the seat and punched in the single pre-programmed number.
"Hello?" came the slurred response.
She blinked in unfaked shock. "Are you asleep or are you drunk?"
The chuckle warmed her through. "Neither. I was close to sleep, though."
"Thought angels never slept."
"I occasionally like to indulge." His voice held nothing but pleasantness. "You've never contacted me before. Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted, getting back into her car and turning the engine over. "I'm a few miles outside of Oak Park, Illinois. the closer I got, the more -- wrong -- it felt."
"Ruby," he chided softly. "Turn off the car and pay for the gas."
Grousing, she obeyed. "I will never understand money," she growled as she headed for her car again. "It was so much easier paying for things in herbs or food or sexual favours."
He laughed, warm and rich, in her ear. "You aren't that old. You understand money. What you don't understand is my insistence that you do things the honest way."
"Damn your mind-reading," she snarled. "Why do you keep insisting on this, anyway?"
"Think of it as a way of helping both you stay out and the soul still there get out of Hell."
"Fine."
"Wrong, how?"
She sighed. "I lost control. I felt my eyes change and I -- I felt... It was like being back in Hell. Such pain and anger and want..."
"Find a motel nearby. Call me when you've got a room. We're coming."
"We?" She frowned at the dial tone. "'We'? Who's 'we'?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Seven hundred miles away, Dean Winchester jerked awake, breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat, with the mental screams of a redheaded ghost ringing in his ears.
On to part two...