"Aren't we all Damaged?"
Being a Hybrid has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages. Abigael had been on both ends of those sticks, she's been on them for a while. But there was a fraction in the Demon world that would want her dead and another...
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I kept an eye on the Winchester men, following them the best I could. Though it had been a few weeks since I first saw them. I decided to insert myself in their lives, hoping to play 'Hunter' once again. With my knowledge and resources, I found a case in Rock Ridge, Colorado, that the boys couldn't walk away from. Three men are dead so far, due to unknown reasons. My heels clicked against the marble flooring of the coroner's department. I pushed the double door to the morgue, my eyes landing to the right to see the corner and two tall giants across from him.
"May I help you?" The elderly coroner spoke, eyeing up my particular outfit. I dug into my blazer pocket, while walking towards the table.
"Agent Hill, FBI," I flashed the fake FBI badge to him, and the fake american accent that I had perfected over the centuries. However, he briefly looked over the badge before cocking his head to the gentleman.
"Friend of yours?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, making the boys smile for a moment before turning their heads to me.
"They office didn't say they were sending backup," Dean replied with gritted teeth, staring up and down at me.
"Well, neither did they say they were sending out two knuckleheads," I remarked quickly, closing the badge and placing it back in my pocket. "Guess we're both disappointed," a thin smile crossed my face, as I stood at the end of the autopsy table, seeing Dean pull a bitch face. "Proceed," my eyes went back to the coroner who had already cut through the body.
"First dead body?" The coroner asked, flicking his gaze between me and the boys, as he continued to do his job of cutting the body open.
"Far from it," Dean replies, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the process go on.
"Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe," the coroner stretches the skin open, pushing it back to create those flaps, and the internal organs could be seen. "Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?" He nodded his head to the table, where laid the equipment for the autopsy. Dean was the closest to them, so he reaches over and grabs the rib cutters, passing them to the doc. I noticed Sam taking a deep breath, and his face squirming slightly, but he was stopping himself from showing. The sweet sound of bone breaking, and squishing of the organs came to my ears, as my eyes adjusted back to the body.
"Is that from a wedding ring?" Dean questions, seeing that the guy's left hand held a bit of discoloration, due to a ring being sat on his ring finger. "I didn't think Frank was married," he turned his head to Sam.
"Ain't my department," the coroner spoke, not even looking up to Dean, but he continued to cut and do his work. Sam reached out with his gloved hand, and gripped the wrist of the victim, and began to lift it up.
"Any idea how he got these?" Sam questioned, examining Frank's arm which was full of scratches, as if he went to town and scratched himself blind.
"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop," the coroner didn't seem too bothered about his physical injuries, because he already knew what Frank died from. "Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground," out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam lower the arm back to its original position. "Huh," he seemed to be looking at Frank's heart.
