Super Freaks

I'm Back On The Road Again

Its been eight years since I left Salem and have been hunting down every evil son of a bitch I can get my hands on. Werewolves, Demons, Spirits, Shapeshifters, Cannibals that have turned, Vampires, those god damn rugarues, and all other non human things imaginable. But no pagan gods.

It hasnt been easy, being a hunter, even with the first three years of assistance of Crowley and his teachings.

Even though he was a demon, for some reason I couldnt bring myself to kill him in the time we spent together. I had every opportunity to do it. Hell, he was the one who put weapons in my hands and told me to come at him. It was most certianly to be the death of me, but with the promise of finding my remaining family memebers and helping them find my father, then I would gladly take the chance and dance with demons to do so. He was my teacher, and I was the pupil. I wanted answers and he was willing to provide them. It was mutual. Completely. Otherwise, I couldn't stand the man.

At first, Crowley helped me train in every goddamn self defense technique on planet earth, teaching and coaching every manuver needed to dodge the right opponent at the right time and at the opportune moment. In this he included when and how to use the right weapons on the appropriate opponents. It was basically the training to surviving in any given situation and fight any son of a bitch and win. I thanked my stars for my flexible and already slim body for training would have been hell if I was out of shape and Alot of the moves were simple ones I had practiced in mock fights in the circus, making training me easy on his side. I had everything I needed to take even him down in a fight.

The second thing he taught me was how to make my way amongst other people and become untrackable. From this, I learned my brothers were already wanted for multiple felonies. It was hilarious when I fucked up at the gas station and the feds came down looking for me. That was a great time for us to cover up. At least it wasnt as bad as when Dean robbed the Milwaukee bank. I rolled over laughing at that.

And the last thing and the easiest was how to track the supernatural signs of a case. Weather trackers, words in newspaper clippings, ect. In this training I gained a super dorky computer and weather radar. I was pretty much set for the apocalypse at this point, which was basically the idea. The basics of hunting all summed into three years.

Once my training had been completed, Crowley dropped off the face of earth and hell, and even when I tried to contact him he didnt answer. I finally gave up after 5 months of attempting a ritual every full moon and went off on my own, to work my own cases and make my own contacts.

Eventually I found myself in Oregon, working a case on the deceased Allan Berk, a man charged with more rape and murder charges than anyone of his time, and still haunting his town in which he was executed. Hall, a friend of mine and a fellow hunter I met down in a bar in Missouri when I was tracking a demon, called saying he had a case for me. Possesion, he said. My specialty, along with witches, although I hate working with them. Always stupid females desprate to serve a demon and putting body parts everywhere. Messy little scanks. I prefured to face demons. Smarter.

  "There are girls going missing by the batches, always memebers of the church disappearing from their homes in the middle of the night and found the next morning mutilated on the foot of the church and ALWAYS found by the head priest running confessions. Their bodies always are missing one organ, a play on Jack The Ripper it seems.
In the past two weeks ten girls have gone missing  and authorities are flipping shit trying to pin it on somebody. Right now I'm having to lay low due to the car incident but I ain't got a whole lotta time to play hide n seek. Can you get down here no later than tuesday to exorcise the bitch?" Hall asked. I looked around me at the gas station, the scenery pretty enough to be worth staying, leaned against my 1967 Lincoln Continental, my cell phone pressed to my right ear, the plastic clacking as I rubbed it as I shifted against the three piercings I had pierced all myself in the past two years for spiritual reasons, and my left containing three as well.