Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Mar 31, 2006 17:52:05 GMT -5
Sam felt his temper flare as the newcomer grabbed him by the jacket. He did his best to control the urge to pull away; it just wouldn't end well if he did. Suddenly, he felt a cool breeze across his face and his temper boiled over.
Shoving away from the newcomer, Sam wrenched his jacket from the man's fist and cocked his own back. Time seemed to slow down and his vision sharpened significantly. He was aware vaguely of Dean and Alex both moving, Dean's voice booming in the silent diner. Sam saw his own fist on a path straight for the stranger's face, felt it connect with a sick crunch. His other fist was swinging up and caught the other man just below the eye.
The newcomer stumbled back against a table, his nose bleeding and pure, murderous rage in his eyes. "I don't threaten," Sam said, his voice low.
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Apr 1, 2006 0:39:35 GMT -5
"There are worse things I could have done." Came her response cooly as to how she still hit. The whole situation wasn't fair, they both knew it. Brows wrinkled together for a moment as she glanced away from him. No, there were some things in life one couldn't fix. Form shifted once again . Seeing Han again after so long, it was different. He hadn't changed much, in ways neither had she. Still the terms hadn't been level. In a way she'd left him dishonestly. Left a note for him, asked him to let her go. That she needed it, the vision quest was something she had to do on her own. If he could have been with her, but it was too late for that now. Maybe in a sense she wanted to protect him, he'd been to hell and back already, she didn't want to infect him with her own demons. Part of her knew he could see right through her. No one got her like he did. It didn't change the fact that she'd loved him, that somewhere she still loved him, and always would.
Thats what she got, for falling, never getting him out of her head. She helped save him, and maybe it was because he was damaged like she was, made it all that more easy to fall for him. It was the way he made her feel, way he kissed. Head shook slightly to push away thoughts of him. His words did a good job of that. They shot through her. For a moment her resolve was cracked and her barrier came down. It hurt, but her words hadn't been much better. Before she could say anything more Sam was up and between them. "Sam..." It was too late, she knew Hannibal and how he'd react. Weight shifted as arms dropped to her sides. Moving to get to the side as she watched Hannibal grab the jacket of the younger brother. What happened next she wouldn't have expected out of Sam, Dean perhaps, but not him. There was something about Sam, he was easy to talk to and there was a sincerity to him. Maybe from his own personal losses. Instead of turning inwards he tried to help others. Hit happened before she could stop him.
"Is there something in you're genes about thrilling heroics?" Eyes darted to Dean as she spoke, watching him stand. Hannibal was back against the table he'd once been sitting at and Alex took the distance between the men to her advantage. Unfortunately they'd started to draw a crowd. Form moved closer to Hannibal, he still held that look in his eyes, a look she'd seen before and one she didn't care to remember. It was a look that meant trouble. Hands splayed against his muscular chest. The touch after so long still caused a slight tingle. Arms straightened slightly as she applied pressure keeping him back from the brothers. "Han, don't."
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Post by Hannibal King on Apr 1, 2006 15:06:26 GMT -5
The grip on Sam’s jacket was still firmly secure as he watched the brother for a moment. By the way he looked Hannibal was sure he would realize he made a mistake and back away. Though it would take someone stronger to walk away then to fight. Hannibal wasn’t the one to walk away, and in a way it was his weakness. Maybe it was due to his past, he’d been changed into something that lived for the fight. Something that loved the echo of pain in a victim’s voice. The overwhelming sensation of seeing blood. Hannibal shuttered at the memory. He wasn’t that monster anymore, though he knew some of the characteristics would always haunt him. Sam didn’t really look much like a fighter, though it didn’t mean he couldn’t. Hannibal was highly underestimating him; the look in Sam’s eyes wasn’t the calm collected look Hannibal had seen before. Now only a slight rage burned in the pupils. Though a look meant nothing. It was action that made the fight and without warning it struck.
Sam’s hands pressed against Hannibal’s arms shoving him back. The first fist made contact with Hannibal’s jaw. He was quick to react, his right fist came up and kicked Sam’s left cheekbone. Hannibal tightened going for another hit, Sam’s second blow hit Hannibal right below the right eye, also smashing hard into the side of his nose. His legs stumbled back, Hannibal was strong but he wasn’t superman, the hits hurt. His palm caught the edge of the table as he leaned slightly. Slowly his head arched as he slowly looked up at the boy. He hit pretty hard, Hannibal wasn’t expecting that at all. He smiled slightly as his hand reached up and checked under his nose. Bleeding, he figured as much but it was a habit to check. Anger had burned in Hannibal’s eyes before, but now it wasn’t just any normal emotion flickering in his eyes. "I don't threaten.” The low voice made its statement clear. Hannibal smiled and stood straight up. He was ready to take this guy on. “Yeah, I see that, though you don’t think either.” Hannibal made a quick move as he went for Sam.
He was stopped by a familiar touch. Alex was standing in front of him her hands laid against his chest. A quick glimpse of the past flashed through his mind. Though his eyes weren’t on her, they stared down Sam. Oh how he wanted to push past and take the kid out, or at least have a fulfilling fight. His breathing was fast and heavy. It was easy to tell Hannibal didn’t play well with others. He was pissed. Then Alex spoke. Her voice was loud but still had her soft soothing voice.
"Han, don't." He didn’t look down at first. Eyes still glued on Sam, Dean was right next to him. He could take them he thought to himself. His thoughts were cut short as his eyes gave into the touch that was applied to his chest. Looking down he saw Alex. She looked up at him with a look that he easily recalled, the look she had made the few days before she left him. She would always look at him that way when they talked, as if she was trying to say sorry with her eyes. He gazed into the same eyes as he had before. His throat tightened. Vengeance still ran through his veins but his body relaxed. It was hard to look at her this close. He had always been farther when he checked in on her, now he was close enough to reach out and hold her. Finally say sorry. His hands reached up and grasped hers. Slowly taking them off him and holding them for a split second then he let them fall to her sides. In his eyes the same look she had given him reflected onto her. It wasn’t easy for him. This was a battle he’d lose every time.
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Dean Winchester
Threat
"That fabric softener teddy bear... Ooh. I wanna hunt that little bitch down."
Posts: 35
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Post by Dean Winchester on Apr 5, 2006 2:57:25 GMT -5
Shifting he weight against the bench seat Dean stretched his back a little as he swallowed coffee. As diners went this one was pretty standard. It had the typical train-car setup with booths and a breakfast counter, with a recent addition in the rear as to segregate the smokers in the ‘train-car’ from the more family and elderly oriented non-smoking section. Although he didn’t partake of the cancerous addiction, Dean preferred to be where they were. With their talk usually pertaining to something of a darker nature he was careful where he and Sam spoke. Dean sure as shit didn’t want to contribute to the youth of tomorrow’s nightmares. At the rise up of tensions and he nearly made the first move toward Alex and her former beau, but much to his surprise it was his kid brother who took the reigns on this shit storm. “Stay away from her.” It was all he could do not to choke on his coffee at seeing little Sammy act the tough guy. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d think his brother had a crush on Alex; worse, that he was trying to keep Dean from further injuring himself. It wasn’t as if Sam couldn’t hold his own but this behavior was bizarre. Sam was almost never so quick to anger. Lips pursed as he did his best to hold back an expression of pride. This cross country hunting trip was revealing more and more of the man his little brother was growing into. The thought of this pleased Dean. “Don’t ever threaten me again.”The elder Winchester paused in mid-forkful, tossing down the utensil. The restaurant had grown quiet and still as patrons and staff alike seemed to pause. Sammy took the first swing. – It was the only signal Dean needed. He was on his feet in seconds, grabbing at the back of Sam’s jacket. Alex was stepping between them, her voice seething. "Is there something in your genes about thrilling heroics?"“Trade secret.” He grinned. “Come on Sam, we best get ourselves out to Byberry before someone decides to call the cops.” Tossing down nearly triple their tab, Dean tipped his head in the direction of the door his fiery look stating simply that he did not have time for any more bullshit. “I’ll meet you in the car.” He shot back in their direction, his eyes glancing between Sam and Alex, leaving it somewhat unclear as to which he’d just spoken. He slammed the driver’s side door hard and gunned the engine. His crooked elbow rested against the frame of the lowered window as he popped in a tape and cracked the volume. Eyes closed, body eased back against the leather seat and deafening sounds of Metallica’s “Welcome Home (Sanitarium)”. worked its magic on his nerves.
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Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Apr 9, 2006 21:20:03 GMT -5
Sam was ready for more than just two punches. The stranger needed his ass beat and he was more than willing to help him out in that department. Sam was starting to go at him again when Alex stepped between them, keeping the stranger where he was. It was like someone threw a switch in his head and the inexplicable rage that had washed over him was gone, leaving Sam bewildered.
What had happened wasn't like him- it was like Dean and even that was pushing it. Dean could be a hot head and all sorts of other unflattering things, but what would he have done? Sam shook his head as if to clear it and felt a sharp sting under his left eye. Lifting his fingers to touch his cheekbone, they came away bloody from the small cut there. He'd have a black eye for sure and he stared at the blood in something like amazement.
“Come on Sam, we best get ourselves out to Byberry before someone decides to call the cops.”
Alex shot Sam a look that was half pissed off and half confused as she followed Dean out the door. Sam followed and felt a strong jolt, almost like a bolt of electricity as he passed a pretty, slender brunette standing by herself among the crowd of spectators. She didn't look anything like the woman who had triggered his vision earlier, but she gave off the same vibe.
"Sam!" Alex's sharp voice snapped his attention back to the here and now and he turned toward the door.
Dean was waiting in the car, Metallica blaring from the Impala's open windows. He gunned the engine impatiently, giving Sam an annoyed look that was tinged with concern. Sam got in the car and barely had his door shut before Dean sped out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.
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Dean Winchester
Threat
"That fabric softener teddy bear... Ooh. I wanna hunt that little bitch down."
Posts: 35
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Post by Dean Winchester on Apr 9, 2006 22:54:40 GMT -5
Dean gunned the engine hard, peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires on the asphalt. Yet another public fight was not something he wanted to deal with. It was bad enough that in their wake they seemed to be leaving an eminent trail to their arrest, but to have it come from Sammy was near unfathomable. He turned the music down in order to be heard. “What the hell go into you back there?” Dean broke eye contact from the road for a second to share his fiery anger. “Last thing I expected from you, from you - is to see you get lead around by your dick. I’ve never seen you get baited into an argument so easily.” His thumb depressed the antique button popping the tape. He flipped it over to the other side and adjusted the volume low enough that they could still talk over it. His fingers drummed against the wheel along with the tinny drone of the lead guitar of Mötorhead’s Ace Of Spades. A small smirk worked over Dean’s features as he heard his bother’s explanation, wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “Sammy… I’m not gonna say I’m proud of you, but – wow. That guy was like a refrigerator with arms and a head. He must have hit pretty close to the mark to get you all riled up like that.” Dean flipped the blinker, as he turned the impala off of River Rd., to connect with Interstate 95 toward Philadelphia.
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Post by Hannibal King on Apr 9, 2006 23:50:48 GMT -5
Hannibal’s eyes gleamed with a presence that would send a chill up anyone’s spine. Anger was too nice of a word to explain how he felt. His eyes had left Alex only for a moment, returning to her flawless face. Being this close to her was hard. Her body was only a few inches from him, even less. His face was blank, as she stood there motionless before him. She was beautiful. Even though it wasn’t the best of circumstances he was glad to see her. Distracted by the voice of the older gentlemen Hannibal looked up once again.
“Come on Sam, we best get ourselves out to Byberry before someone decides to call the cops.” Eyes shifting to one man to the other, then to the crowd that began to get the nerve to stare continuously. The exhausted eyes landed once again on the victor. Though the look on his face was one of confusion. Sam’s hand slowly made it’s way to the cut along his newly bruised cheek. The look on Sam’s face was sheer amazement, like he just realized he was in a fight. Alex’s face moved to Sam as if to say something with her eyes. She was always good at that. She could express anything with those “windows to her soul.” Her eyes were one of many things that made Hannibal fall in love with her those few years past. They had a way of telling him it was going to be all right when all hell broke loose. Sam slightly stared off into the crowd as if his attention was drawn to a person, but before Hannibal could look to whom Sam’s line of vision has changed. King felt Alex’s figure leave as she turned to follow Dean out of the diner. She was so close, and yet within moments she was gone again. She beckoned to Sam to follow her as her hands pressed the clear glass. Her eyes met Hannibal’s once again as she waited for Sam to exit the open door.
Within moments Hannibal caught himself moving after the three. The night air was refreshing to the dull enclosed atmosphere that was inside. The taillights of the black Impala caught Hannibal’s eyes as it sped off into the dark. Staring was all he could do at the moment. “Nice seeing you too.” The words escaped to the unseen person they were directed to. Running a hand through his hair, he brought it down touching his sore cheek. A slight vibration was felt from his pant pocket. He reached for his cell, grabbing it he hesitated a moment, then he flipped it open.
“King here,” Hannibal’s eyes made their way across the parking lot. He wasn’t in the mood to be on the phone with an employer, especially after a job had been done. To top it all off his ex-girlfriend just left with two shifty men. Alex was a tough girl and she could fend for herself, but whether it was the immense jealousy Hannibal had or the fact the two men were strangers to him, Hannibal didn’t trust them.
The voice on the other end was anything but pleasant, “Hannibal, have you gotten what I so distinctly remember sending you after?” Sleepless eyes landed on a white, beat up 65’ Shelby Mustang. A familiar grin crossed Hannibal’s face as his legs carried him to where the car was parked. His hand drifted to the handle, unlocked. Some people made it way too easy to take what was there’s. The voice on the phone was getting louder annoying King who easily tuned it out.
Interrupting the man on the other end Hannibal cut in, “Hey, hey simmer down hot shot. What you wanted is being sent to you as we speak, I have a few errands to run before we rondevu for tea” King’s voice was cocky in attitude with a hint of sarcasm. Which was normal for him. Though now was not the time. He knew where he was going to go. Whether it was right or not Hannibal’s mind was made up.
“And where are these “errands” smartass.” Remarked the bitter other end.
Hannibal smiled as he got into the car slamming the door, “Byberry”
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Apr 14, 2006 20:41:43 GMT -5
Alex couldn't breath for a moment. Touch triggered memories to flood her mind. He was still as built as she had remembered, a quality she'd rather liked, even in his vampiric state. But what happened, shouldn't have, she knew Han was capable of loosing his cool. The look in his eye what had her worried, it was dark. Hands joined for a moment and her heart ached. Alex was torn. He'd left her, broke connection, maybe part of it had been for the best that didn't mean it still didn't hurt. Part of her wanted to kiss him just once, the other wanted him to hurt the way she had. Throat tightened when she thought about the night she'd needed him most. Han shifted away from her and she stepped back herself hearing something from Dean she glanced his direction. The Byberry. One of the reasons she left Hannibal in the first place as part of her vision quest. What brought her back here now. Eyes turned over towards the bewildered Sam for a moment then back towards Hannibal.
Slowly she pulled away glancing towards the ground as she passed the other patrons of the diner. Maybe what happened between them would be one of those questions she never got the answer too. Pausing she pulled open the door hand splayed against the glass. "Sam." She beckoned but her eyes weren't watching the younger Winchester they were fixed on King. The way he still stood there. Ready to just let her go again. Neither of them saying anything more, with plenty tension to fill the void of this left unsaid. Things that needed to be said. As Sam got closer she moved away climbing into the back of the Impala. With out many other words the Impala took off with the roar of the engine.
Alex shifted watching the darkened scenery with her fingertips pressed slightly against her full lips. Brows narrowed some as she thought about what had happened. Why he'd shown up there of all places, they could have run into each other in the past. When he stopped calling she only looked for him a few times. King was working for someone else, doing the dirty deeds that needed to be done. Cleaning up messes, even if he sometimes added to them first. Brunette hunter listened to the conversation between the brothers for a moment commenting finally. "Don't let his looks fool you, Kings smart." Weight shifted on the black leather covered set as she sat up slightly, leaning closer to the front bench and the brothers, her question coming out like a shot from the dark. "What do you know about the Byberry?"
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Post by Hannibal King on Apr 14, 2006 22:32:47 GMT -5
Hands gripped the steering wheel tight as cold eyes glanced in the rearview mirror. Back at the dim lights of the somewhat distant diner. A quickened heartbeat was the only sound that echoed in King’s mind. The repeating thud was a reminder he wasn’t that monster anymore. The sound grew irritating, so Hannibal quickly reached for the radio. He often regretted having this human trait. In a way he felt he didn’t deserve it. Alex was the one thing that made him believe in himself after she saved him. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it. His thoughts went back to the diner, where her hand touched his body. The way it had so many times before. Telling her everything had crossed his mind quite a few times. Though he never could bring himself to go through with it. Remembering back to a night where the rain poured onto the streets of New York. She was staying at a hotel. King’s drenched body stood right outside her door. Fist ready to knock but the sound never came. The cliché of it all was it was her birthday. The one day Hannibal had an excuse to lean on. Even with that this former “monster” couldn’t face her. A car door slammed, followed by the rental pulling out of the vacant hotel. Leaving a momentum right outside the door. A bouquet of flowers rain drenched, but none the less meaningful.
The Mustang made it’s way around the curves in the road. Hannibal wasn’t sure where he was heading but sooner or later he’d spot them. Unless they found another turn King didn’t see. Maybe this was stupid. Chasing a car who’s destination was unknown. He had the name but the directions were still a secret. Then he spotted them. Taillights of the black Impala license plate KAZ 2Y5. He didn’t turn his headlights off as he pulled behind the car. As far as they could tell it was just another driver. Though it wouldn’t be long until they figured it wasn’t just coincidence. They’d hit the gas and try to ditch the follower but Hannibal would only do the same. He wasn’t going to let Alex slip away again. At least not without her knowing the truth.
The Impala turned, shortly after the white Mustang followed. He wasn’t sure where Byberry was. Whether it was a city, town, or even a place at all. However that wasn’t all that consisted in King’s mind. What was she doing with these two brothers? What was she hunting for now? Jealousy was a key factor to the pursuit of the gang. There was a time when Alex went to him when a problem needed to be solved. Not that she couldn’t handle it on her own, she just liked watching him fight. He smirked slightly as he thought a little deeper into that. Now she was with those two. “Who the hell are they?” as King slipped into thinking out loud, “Of all people she had to hook up with them, are there no ugly ghost hunters?” Hannibal’s jealous side was full of comments to help fuel the fire. In a way it wasn’t the fact they had the looks to hook her in, deeper into the conscience was the true answer. She had found someone else to be her knight in shinning armor. Since the one she trusted before only showed up when it was to late.
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The Wanderer
Threat
Why, my little party's just starting!
Posts: 15
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Post by The Wanderer on Apr 16, 2006 14:05:58 GMT -5
"Byberry." The word echoed like a faint whisper in the Wanderer's mind. She knew the lore of the area and Byberry was something spoken about in hushed tones. It had been a place for the insane, a place that had seen much suffering and death during its time. Places like asylums, hospitals and prisons just soaked up the pain and suffering like a sponge, making it a virtual playground for things like the Wanderer. Now that Byberry was abandoned, it was a haven for partying teenagers and those who 'practiced' the dark arts. There was rumored to be a hallway someone had painted completely black to perform Satanic rituals. It supposedly was a gate way to Hell.
The only real gate way to Hell she knew of was the one in her own heart. There were many others like her, walking the world and doing the unimaginable. No one, not even the Wanderers themselves, knew their origins for certain, but they had roamed for centuries. Things like wars, famines and epidemics had been triggered by Wanderers. Their beauty was unparalleled and they used it to warp mens' minds, making horrors like the Holocaust and the Inquisition things of reality.
Byberry was where the Wanderer was heading as she crossed the parking lot and straddled the bike. Busying herself with a pair of gloves she had conjured, she vaguely heard a click as a gun glinted in the security light on the back of the diner. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hulk of a man standing there, the gun pointed at her head.
"Give me your money and the keys to the bike, bitch," he said, his voice low and measured.
The Wanderer smiled, a slight quirk of her lips. "Make me," she said, her voice soft.
"Bitch! Don't be stupid!" the hulk hissed, thrusting the gun in her face.
The Wanderer turned her attention to him fully and her smile broadened when she saw the terror dawning on his face. She loved the look that humans got when they saw their death in her eyes. Murmuring in Latin, she made a slight gesture with her hand and heard a sharp intake of breath as the gun in the man's hand began to meld with his skin.
"No! No! Make it stop!" he said, shaking his hand to get rid of the gun. The gun began to seemingly melt, oozing over the man's hand and down his arm in a molten stream. It turned his skin silver as it marched up his arm and spread across his chest.
He made a strangled sound as the stream of silver disappeared under the sleeve of his T-shirt, reappearing as it flowed over his throat and toward his face. "You should be careful of whom you decide to call bitch," she said.
The man fell to his knees with a metallic clunk, having turned completely silver. The Wanderer got off the bike and walked over to him, looking down at his silver face, which had frozen in an expression of pure agony. His eyes moved, the whites slowly taking on a metallic luster. "When a man is a master shooter, he and the gun become one," she whispered in his ear before pushing him over. She turned and got back on the bike, revving the engine and flying out of the parking lot, heading in the direction she had seen the Impala heading.
As she sped along the dark, winding country road, the Wanderer mentally cursed herself. She had forgotten to get directions.
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Dean Winchester
Threat
"That fabric softener teddy bear... Ooh. I wanna hunt that little bitch down."
Posts: 35
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Post by Dean Winchester on Apr 20, 2006 23:39:08 GMT -5
They drove in silence for a while, the Impala eating up the road as they drove down interstate 95 at an even seventy miles per hour. Dean occasionally checked the rearview unsure if they were being followed or not. After they turned off onto Rt. 1 he was sure of it. Without making things too obvious Dean clicked off the radio and spoke to the other two.
“We’ve got company.” Dean sped up, his high-powered classic weaving in and out of traffic with a thunderous roar. Partly he didn’t care, the other part wanted to see if the guy following would be brazen enough to try and keep up. He eyed the traffic light up ahead, seeing it switch from green to yellow; and he let his boot hit the floorboard as he raced though the intersection in the nick of time.
With a grin he slowed down to a respectable speed, turning to his right and idling past the condemned building. Pasted up everywhere were no trespassing signs and from the looks of it he could see why. Even the place wasn’t haunted; it was the perfect setting for teenaged mischief. “Sam didn’t that website say security here was a bitch to get past?” Dean pulled the Impala into the little league field across the street and got out, his usual routine of grab a few things in a satchel applying as he opened the truck to gather provisions.
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Post by Hannibal King on Apr 21, 2006 1:15:02 GMT -5
The darkened scenery passed by the windows of the Mustang as it kept its distance from the trio’s Impala. Looking down at the speedometer the vision became a little blurry. Sleep was catching up with Han. Passing out wasn’t in the near future but his body was sore. He’d been denying it what it needed for too long. Shaking it off, his line of sight moved out the window. King wasn’t sure what road he was on. Signs would occasionally whip by but he was too preoccupied to notice words let alone put them together to form a sentence. His mind was hard at work planning how to move about this. Without thought he had followed Alex and her new friends. She had a way of doing that. Making him act without considering anything. Then again it wasn’t necessarily her fault. King was impulsive at times, especially when jealousy was a key factor. However, now his conscience was giving its two cents. Easily blocking out the voice of reason Hannibal kept his eyes on Dean’s driving. He knew that Dean would notice in time that he was being followed, if he hadn’t already noticed by now. Hannibal’s mind had stopped with the constant echoing of thought and he was left in complete silence. That’s when Dean made his move. Instantly picking up speed the Impala jumped foreword, just edging the Mustang to follow.
Focused eyes latched on to the gleam of the taillights. Cracking his neck slightly Hannibal adjusted his hands on the steering wheel. If it was a chase Dean wanted, he’d get it. The swerving in and out of traffic was like a game. One Hannibal intended to win. A smirk crossed his face as he in turn punched the gas taking the bait of a dangerous game of tag. Reckless was how King liked it. There wasn’t much traffic but just enough that one wrong move could end in disaster. Especially at the speeds they were going. Determination was pumping through Hannibal’s body as he pushed even harder on the gas. That’s when he saw the light changing. Green, yellow, red. The Impala had made it through on yellow and if King wanted any chance of catching them he’d have to run it. Pushing his foot hard down on the gas he clutched the steering wheel tight. His eyes locked on the back of the Impala. The headlights of the oncoming cars gleamed through the driver side window as the white Mustang barely made it through the intersection. An oncoming driver swerved to the left nicking the back bumper of the Mustang causing the back to lift slightly. Just enough to cause the back wheels to swerve. Hannibal released the gas slightly as he tried to control the car. Looking up into the rearview mirror he saw a small glimpse of the same car hitting a ditch. His face formed a frown then quickly formed a smile.
His eyes caught the Impala as it turned into the parking lot of a little league field right across from a building that just screamed trouble. There he saw the black Impala in park, with the trunk open. It looked as if Dean was loading up on supplies. Pulling up next to them Hannibal turned off the ignition and opened the door only to slam it shut once he stepped out. His eyes met with Dean’s, “What the fuck!?”
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Apr 21, 2006 1:45:43 GMT -5
Her question had gone ignored, or perhaps there wasn't anything to comment. The Impala traveled easily over the roads and the trio was left to silence. Once more her gaze turned out to the passing scenery. In the silence it didn't stop her thoughts from going back to King. Sure, sometimes he could be self serving but she had a feeling there was more. Alex knew him better than that. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, trying to move on, forget the past. The car pulled onto another backwater route.In the back of her mind she already knew it, or part of it at least. The last time she was there was just before she turned eleven, before the Byberry closed it's doors forever and moved their Patients. He father had brought her mother closer to New Mexico. Swallowing she shifted as Dean's voice cut into her thoughts. The engine rumbled louder in her ears, and whatever thoughts of her mother ebbed back. Dean took the other side of the road to pass a slower car and Alex shifted looking back behind them. There was a white mustang following close behind, just as reckless. Fingers worked back into her dark tresses staring at the face behind the wheel. King. "I don't think you're going to lose him Dean." The older brother seemed to want to prove her wrong. Speeding the classic muscle car up to sneak through an intersection before it hit red. Turning her chin back forwards she focused on Dean catching the slight smirk through the rear-view mirror. He didn't know Hannibal like she did, Hannibal wasn't going to back down. It was hard pressed to keep him down and out. With the car now slowing and the condemned building in view Alex exhaled. If King caught up it really didn't matter any more. Stepping out of the Impala, the brunette hunter couldn't take her eyes off the Institution. Her mind flooded with any memory she had of this place of what happened. Of what she knew now. They'd been a happy family. Normal by anyones respects on the outside. But her mother had chosen to marry a man that her family didn't approve of. Her grandmother still blamed her father Frank. Slowly she paced past Dean and his rummaging in the trunk and pack. It was as if it had a hold of her. "Daddy, why are we here?" "Don't worry ok, Ally?" A young brunette looked up at the salt and peppered features of her father as he walked with her over a green lawn. The newer wing of the Byberry was still up and functional. Back then she didn't know what it was. What had even happened. It wouldn't be until later that the young girl found out what her father really did for a living, and why she was there in PA. Taking her father's hand she continued walking, eyeing the building, feeling as if it had some sort of presence. Grip tightened once they entered the building. The stark white walls and the wash glow of the florescent lights. Frank Sutherland squeezed his daughters hand. He wanted to tell her everything would be ok, but not even he was sure of that. His wife wasn't much more than a shell of her former self. She was the love of his life, they had a daughter that he'd dreams for. Never thinking things would turn out how they did. Stopping at a door, number 261, he opened it stepping slowly inside. There wasn't any movement from the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the outside world with a blank expression. "Mommy? Mommy..." Girl rushed to her mothers side, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug, with no response. Sinking to her knees childs head rested in the lap of the woman, JoAnn Sutherland, her mother. Small hand clinging for any acknowledgement. It was hard for Frank to watch. When JoAnn looked down at the young girl. "Won't stop...cant stop. No blinking. Always. The others...others will find you...can't stop, won't every stop." Frank stepped forwards pulling his young daughter in to his arms as she started to cry. How could he tell her that her mother would never be the same, that she'd been possessed by something he'd hunted, that he couldn't save his wife. Eyes watched as his wife rocked back and forth still muttering. "I love you, Jo. Come on Alex, we should be going."Alex blinked away the sting in her blue eyes as she heard the rumble of another engine pulling up near them. It had been shortly after her first visit that the Bybarry shut it's doors forever relocating it's patients. It wasn't for another few years that Alex finally knew the truth. Knew more about her mother, and her Indian heritage. Now it stood as a darkened memory. Weedy and overgrown. Signs of chaos from teenagers and vandals. The place was a bad omen. For a time it had even seemed her mothers condition worsened there. She turned just to see Hannibal getting out of the mustang, eyeing Dean up with a growl.
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Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Apr 25, 2006 20:36:32 GMT -5
Sam was silent for most of the ride, but not because Dean was playing music at an intolerable level. He had no explanation for what had happened between him and the man from Alex's past. They had a history together, that much was obvious. How much of a history was what Sam wondered as he caught a glimpse of Alex's pale face in the mirror.
The music abruptly lowered and Dean's eyes flicked to the rear view mirror. "We've got company," he said, his tone grim as he gunned the engine.
Sam and Alex turned in their seats to see the white Mustang barreling toward him. "Dude, I don't think you're going to shake him," Sam said at the same time Alex did. Dean merely grunted and gunned the engine, slaloming them through traffic at deadly speeds. Sam heard the click of a seatbelt from the back seat as he locked his own in place, bracing his hands against the dashboard.
Dean navigated them through a tight squeeze at a red light and King made it through by the skin of his teeth. "Sam, didn't that web site say security was a bitch to get through?" Dean asked as he put the Impala in the parking lot of a little league field.
Sam's eyes widened as he watched Dean head for the trunk and open it. The white Mustang screeched to a halt beside them and King got out, heading right for Dean. Sam had his hand on the door handle when he saw flashing orange lights. Two Ford Escorts with light bars were coming toward them from the grounds of the hospital and he slammed his door, sliding across to the driver's seat.
"Dean! Get in the car! Now!" he yelled, going for the ignition. The keys weren't there- they were in Dean's hand because he had opened the trunk. Dean shot him a bewildered look when he got to the driver's side door and Sam slid back across the seat.
"We've got to get out of here. Remember that bitchy security?" Sam said, pointing at the approaching Escorts.
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The Wanderer
Threat
Why, my little party's just starting!
Posts: 15
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Post by The Wanderer on Apr 25, 2006 20:51:44 GMT -5
The Wanderer wove through the evening traffic on Route 1, turning the corner toward old Byberry. She had gotten directions from a convenience store clerk. The girl had been a little on the slow side, but had given the Wanderer very detailed directions. It had been easy to turn into the man the girl feared the most- her father- and stand there with nothing but a conjured belt in her hands. The smell of the girl's fear was like a fine wine to the Wanderer and she savored it as she left the store.
Reaching the little league field, the Wanderer walked the bike up to the pair of Ford Escorts parked there, orange security lights flashing. Three uniformed men had the ruffian from the diner cornered and pressed up against the side of a white Mustang. Putting the kick stand down and shutting off the bike, the Wanderer strolled over to the men.
"Just wait til the police get here, jack ass," one of the security guys was saying.
"Oh, I don't think the police will be necessary," the Wanderer said. "Let him go, please, and I'll let you live."
The guard closest to her also towered over her and he laughed. "Pretty lady, this situation does not concern you. Get back on your little bike over there and leave this to the professionals."
The Wanderer smiled and the man's own smile faltered. "Professionals...really. You look more like grown men dressed up in Halloween costumes."
All three guards turned toward her then, King forgotten. "Lady, you're starting to piss me off," the big guard said, reaching for his pepper spray.
The Wanderer didn't let him get that far, reaching out and plunging both hands into his chest. His eyes went wide as he looked down at her hands, which held part of a lung and his heart. She tossed them away and pushed him over. "Alrighty then, who's next?"
Five minutes later, the guards were nothing more than steaming piles of gore. Looking down at her blood soaked clothing, the Wanderer clucked her tongue in disgust and made a gesture with her hands. Suddenly, she was wearing clean clothes and a black leather jacket. Smiling brightly at the stunned King, she extended a hand. "You can call me the Wanderer. You are?"
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