Warbound Prologue 1/4
Author: banditobane
Betareader: pen 37
charcters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Synopsis: Sam and Dean head to Pittsburgh to investigate a new evil.
A/N: I don't deserve all the cridit pen helped me alot on this.
I am putting the prolauges in parts showing how each character got to where they are. First are the Winchestr brothers, the next is Chloe Sullivan, the third is Duncan MacLeod, and the last is Robert Cross - The Crow.
Prologue 1: Sam & Dean Winchester
“What’s so important that you got to drag my ass out of bed at oh-dark-thirty to go to Pittsburgh dude?” Dean asked his brother as drove his 1967 Chevy Impala down highway heading east.
Sam rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, “Bobby called. There are all kinds of omens that popped up last night. All signs point there. Whatever’s going down, it’s going to be big.”
“Are we talking The Amityville Horror-big, or Night Of The Living Dead-big?” Dean asked.
“Some of these omens are just as big as they were the nigh the devil’s gate opened,” Sam sighed.
Dean’s eyebrows rose at that. “So basically, we may be looking at an entire army of demons vs. two hunters. Sounds fair to me.”
“Then you’re not gone like the rest,” Sam said,
“You mean there’s more?”
“Basically.” Sam said with a tired sigh.
“There’s always more,” Dean muttered. Reflexively, his grip on the steering wheel tightened. It seemed that lately they’d been spending most of the time running from city to city, stopping the end of the world one skirmish at a time
And the kicker was that barely two months ago, they’d thought the war was over.
They’d just come out of a confrontation with a demon named Lilith that they hadn’t expected to walk away from. She’d held all the cards: The loyalty of most of the demons this side of hell, a powerful mad-on for Sam, and the contract on Dean’s soul.
All they’d had was a reformed demon named Ruby, a couple of enchanted weapons and their own stubbornness.
As it turned out, that was enough. Ruby had tried to stab Lilith with a demon-killing knife, only to have it used on her. She’d sacrificed her very existence, but the distraction had been enough. Sam used the precious seconds it had bought them to retrieve their other enchanted weapon: a Colt Patterson that could kill anything. Including jumped-up demons with delusions of grandeur.
For a few days, Dean thought things would get better. He wasn’t going to hell, and the leader from the west was gone. The demons should have scattered without a centralized leader.
But then the demons started massing all over again. As if they were preparing yet another assault. These days, Dean woke to sick the certainty that The War the yellowed eyed demon told them of was far from over. Perhaps it would never be over.
Sam pulled a thick manila folder out of his laptop bag. The action served to drag Dean out of his bleak thoughts. The younger Winchester then produced a handful of website printouts and showed them to Dean.
“The best way I can describe what’s going on is carnage. There have been a few mutilations. I was tempted to think they were werewolf attacks, except that some of the bodies still had their hearts intact. But get this: the ones with hearts were completely drained of blood. It’s like Werewolves and Vampires with overlapping territories.”
“You’re kidding,” Dean looked at his brother in disbelief, “Werewolves and vampires. Please tell me there’s a hot chick in tight leather in all of this.”
“That’s not all,”
“Of course not, why wouldn’t it be?” Dean said in sarcastic tone, “So what now big foot sightings, UFOs, Tinker Bell? Though, I wouldn’t mind hunting her.”
“Pagan gods,” Sam said, “Looks like more than one or two.”
“Sounds like a steel cage death match to me. Dude, think we can get tickets?”
“It’s not funny Dean,” Sam said, “Remember what happened last Christmas.”
“How could I forget,” Dean shuddered “It was like Leave to Beaver directed by Eli Roth.”
“This should sound familiar then,” Sam said. “Some of the victims are getting taken out of their own homes. Police found some of them in an abandoned steel mill, completely eviscerated. And according to Bobby, what the police aren’t telling reporters is that there were ritualistic symbols painted in blood on the walls.”
“So we’re not exactly dealing with the cult from The Wicker Man?” Dean joked.
Sam shrugged his reply “Bobby’s sources say that the symbols are from all over. Some of the are Ancient Greek of Celtic. Others come from parts of Gaul near present-day Southern France. One of them was even from Pictish.”
“Demons, gods, werewolves and vampires, oh my. I’m almost expecting to see some fling monkeys.”
Sam grunted in reply. As he looked over his collected research, his mind was on the dream that Bobby’s call last night had interrupted.
In many ways, it was like the nightmares that he’d had just before Jess had died: So real they could only be glimpses of the future. Yet so horrific that he hopped that they were just figments conjured by his tired brain.
It was always the same. A demon with ghoulish green eyes had them pressed against the wall. And while he couldn’t clearly see the face of the human that the demon wore like a cheap suit, he could hear the voice as if the monster was whispering in his ear.
“I’m gonna enjoy this,”
And even though he knew what was coming, Sam always looked over to Dean, and watched as a gash welled across his neck as if he had been cut by an invisible blade. In his dream, Sam screamed in helpless rage as blood fountained up from Dean’s wound.
“Sam?” Dean voice snapped him back to reality, “What’s matter? You look like you’re still asleep.”
Sam shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Dean had that faintly concerned look in his eyes that he used to wear just after Jess had died. Back then Sam had tried to hide his burgeoning powers from Dean. Had even tried to pretend that they didn’t exist.
Experience now helped him to realize that he needed to tell Dean everything.
“Dean, you remember those dreams I’ve been having? I think they’re visions.”
Uneasiness flashed in Dean’s eyes, before it was quickly hidden by his familiar smirk. “Oh, come on Sammy,” he said, “It was just a dream; you lost your powers when we wasted ol’ yellow eyes.”
“I think they’re coming back.” Sam said softly,
Hurt flashed in Dean’s eyes. “And when the hell we’re thinking of telling me?”
“Come on Dean…” Sam rolled his eyes.
”Sam I almost went to hell for you,” he shouted, “And you didn’t think it was important that I should know what started all this shit is coming back to bite us in the ass?”
“Hey you aren’t the only who had to go through this hell,” Sam shouted back, “You remember Ruby died to protect you right?”
“Yeah well, we didn’t need her help in the first place.”
“You serious?” Sam looked at Dean in disgust, “How many time did she save our asses? Dean she gave us more help than any hunter cared to offer.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Dean knew that Sam was right. They’d lost a valuable ally in Ruby. But it was easier to pretend he didn’t care, than to dwell on the loss.
“At least she got off easy and didn’t go back to the pit.” Dean said after a moment of silence between the brothers.
“Only because she was annihilated,” Sam said grudgingly.
Dean held his sigh inside. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this okay, really.
The silence drifted between them a little while longer. When Dean decide that he couldn’t stand it any longer, he reached for the radio knob.
“Okay, enough of this emo crap.” He turned to Sam with a smirk, “Whatta say, Sammy? Let’s go raise a little hell and waste some evil sons of bitches.”
“What ever you say?” Sam said with a sigh.
Foreigner’s ‘Hot Blooded’ filled the air, Dean bobbed his head in time with the music, and made faces at Sam
In response, Sam shook his head. A faint grin tugged at his lips “Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Retard.”
“Samantha.”
Dean turned the radio, and CCR’s ‘Bad Moon Rising’ filled the cab. “I see a bad moon rising, I see trouble on the rise.”
“Dude, that’s a little creepy, don’t you think?” Dean said.
Betareader: pen 37
charcters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Synopsis: Sam and Dean head to Pittsburgh to investigate a new evil.
A/N: I don't deserve all the cridit pen helped me alot on this.
I am putting the prolauges in parts showing how each character got to where they are. First are the Winchestr brothers, the next is Chloe Sullivan, the third is Duncan MacLeod, and the last is Robert Cross - The Crow.
Prologue 1: Sam & Dean Winchester
“What’s so important that you got to drag my ass out of bed at oh-dark-thirty to go to Pittsburgh dude?” Dean asked his brother as drove his 1967 Chevy Impala down highway heading east.
Sam rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, “Bobby called. There are all kinds of omens that popped up last night. All signs point there. Whatever’s going down, it’s going to be big.”
“Are we talking The Amityville Horror-big, or Night Of The Living Dead-big?” Dean asked.
“Some of these omens are just as big as they were the nigh the devil’s gate opened,” Sam sighed.
Dean’s eyebrows rose at that. “So basically, we may be looking at an entire army of demons vs. two hunters. Sounds fair to me.”
“Then you’re not gone like the rest,” Sam said,
“You mean there’s more?”
“Basically.” Sam said with a tired sigh.
“There’s always more,” Dean muttered. Reflexively, his grip on the steering wheel tightened. It seemed that lately they’d been spending most of the time running from city to city, stopping the end of the world one skirmish at a time
And the kicker was that barely two months ago, they’d thought the war was over.
They’d just come out of a confrontation with a demon named Lilith that they hadn’t expected to walk away from. She’d held all the cards: The loyalty of most of the demons this side of hell, a powerful mad-on for Sam, and the contract on Dean’s soul.
All they’d had was a reformed demon named Ruby, a couple of enchanted weapons and their own stubbornness.
As it turned out, that was enough. Ruby had tried to stab Lilith with a demon-killing knife, only to have it used on her. She’d sacrificed her very existence, but the distraction had been enough. Sam used the precious seconds it had bought them to retrieve their other enchanted weapon: a Colt Patterson that could kill anything. Including jumped-up demons with delusions of grandeur.
For a few days, Dean thought things would get better. He wasn’t going to hell, and the leader from the west was gone. The demons should have scattered without a centralized leader.
But then the demons started massing all over again. As if they were preparing yet another assault. These days, Dean woke to sick the certainty that The War the yellowed eyed demon told them of was far from over. Perhaps it would never be over.
Sam pulled a thick manila folder out of his laptop bag. The action served to drag Dean out of his bleak thoughts. The younger Winchester then produced a handful of website printouts and showed them to Dean.
“The best way I can describe what’s going on is carnage. There have been a few mutilations. I was tempted to think they were werewolf attacks, except that some of the bodies still had their hearts intact. But get this: the ones with hearts were completely drained of blood. It’s like Werewolves and Vampires with overlapping territories.”
“You’re kidding,” Dean looked at his brother in disbelief, “Werewolves and vampires. Please tell me there’s a hot chick in tight leather in all of this.”
“That’s not all,”
“Of course not, why wouldn’t it be?” Dean said in sarcastic tone, “So what now big foot sightings, UFOs, Tinker Bell? Though, I wouldn’t mind hunting her.”
“Pagan gods,” Sam said, “Looks like more than one or two.”
“Sounds like a steel cage death match to me. Dude, think we can get tickets?”
“It’s not funny Dean,” Sam said, “Remember what happened last Christmas.”
“How could I forget,” Dean shuddered “It was like Leave to Beaver directed by Eli Roth.”
“This should sound familiar then,” Sam said. “Some of the victims are getting taken out of their own homes. Police found some of them in an abandoned steel mill, completely eviscerated. And according to Bobby, what the police aren’t telling reporters is that there were ritualistic symbols painted in blood on the walls.”
“So we’re not exactly dealing with the cult from The Wicker Man?” Dean joked.
Sam shrugged his reply “Bobby’s sources say that the symbols are from all over. Some of the are Ancient Greek of Celtic. Others come from parts of Gaul near present-day Southern France. One of them was even from Pictish.”
“Demons, gods, werewolves and vampires, oh my. I’m almost expecting to see some fling monkeys.”
Sam grunted in reply. As he looked over his collected research, his mind was on the dream that Bobby’s call last night had interrupted.
In many ways, it was like the nightmares that he’d had just before Jess had died: So real they could only be glimpses of the future. Yet so horrific that he hopped that they were just figments conjured by his tired brain.
It was always the same. A demon with ghoulish green eyes had them pressed against the wall. And while he couldn’t clearly see the face of the human that the demon wore like a cheap suit, he could hear the voice as if the monster was whispering in his ear.
“I’m gonna enjoy this,”
And even though he knew what was coming, Sam always looked over to Dean, and watched as a gash welled across his neck as if he had been cut by an invisible blade. In his dream, Sam screamed in helpless rage as blood fountained up from Dean’s wound.
“Sam?” Dean voice snapped him back to reality, “What’s matter? You look like you’re still asleep.”
Sam shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Dean had that faintly concerned look in his eyes that he used to wear just after Jess had died. Back then Sam had tried to hide his burgeoning powers from Dean. Had even tried to pretend that they didn’t exist.
Experience now helped him to realize that he needed to tell Dean everything.
“Dean, you remember those dreams I’ve been having? I think they’re visions.”
Uneasiness flashed in Dean’s eyes, before it was quickly hidden by his familiar smirk. “Oh, come on Sammy,” he said, “It was just a dream; you lost your powers when we wasted ol’ yellow eyes.”
“I think they’re coming back.” Sam said softly,
Hurt flashed in Dean’s eyes. “And when the hell we’re thinking of telling me?”
“Come on Dean…” Sam rolled his eyes.
”Sam I almost went to hell for you,” he shouted, “And you didn’t think it was important that I should know what started all this shit is coming back to bite us in the ass?”
“Hey you aren’t the only who had to go through this hell,” Sam shouted back, “You remember Ruby died to protect you right?”
“Yeah well, we didn’t need her help in the first place.”
“You serious?” Sam looked at Dean in disgust, “How many time did she save our asses? Dean she gave us more help than any hunter cared to offer.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Dean knew that Sam was right. They’d lost a valuable ally in Ruby. But it was easier to pretend he didn’t care, than to dwell on the loss.
“At least she got off easy and didn’t go back to the pit.” Dean said after a moment of silence between the brothers.
“Only because she was annihilated,” Sam said grudgingly.
Dean held his sigh inside. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this okay, really.
The silence drifted between them a little while longer. When Dean decide that he couldn’t stand it any longer, he reached for the radio knob.
“Okay, enough of this emo crap.” He turned to Sam with a smirk, “Whatta say, Sammy? Let’s go raise a little hell and waste some evil sons of bitches.”
“What ever you say?” Sam said with a sigh.
Foreigner’s ‘Hot Blooded’ filled the air, Dean bobbed his head in time with the music, and made faces at Sam
In response, Sam shook his head. A faint grin tugged at his lips “Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Retard.”
“Samantha.”
Dean turned the radio, and CCR’s ‘Bad Moon Rising’ filled the cab. “I see a bad moon rising, I see trouble on the rise.”
“Dude, that’s a little creepy, don’t you think?” Dean said.