Laurel | A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter One

It felt like acid had replaced the blood in my legs. Every step I took burned, but I ignored the pain.
I pumped harder.
I need to get out of here.
I jumped over a fallen tree, leaves crunching beneath my feet as I ran. I looked up and saw the white light that signaled the end of the forest. I could see the road I would step out on. I pushed myself to run faster, my legs going numb.
I ran out of the forest, smelling the open air, when a heard a crash and felt a sharp pain in my side and leg.
I flipped over a car and landed on the hard road. I would've smacked my face on the pavement if my hands hadn't been out in front of me.
I heard a screech of tires and quickly stood up.
I looked over to see two men step out of a black car, slamming the doors and walking to stand by the trunk.
"If you don't want to die, I suggest you get back in your car, and get the hell out of here." I yelled, staring into the forest.
Any second now.
I held my arms up, in a fighting stance. My right hand gripped tight around the handle of a machete. I ignored the pain that tingled in my palms from all the rocks stuck in them after the accident.
"What the hell are you talking about?" The short one asked. As if on que, an explosion went off in the distance.
"They're coming. Get out of here. Now!" I yelled so loud my throat ached.
The two men took a step forward, concern on there faces when the first one ran out of the forest and straight at me. Two others were behind it.
One of them jumped on me, knocking me to the ground. The air that filled my lungs rushed out of my body. Fangs protruded from its mouth as it snapped at me, struggling to bite me. I turned my head and saw the other two run towards the men by the car. They were fast, but the two men were faster. Without hesitation, the shorter one popped open the trunk of the car, grabbing a machete and throwing the other one to his friend. They each swung, cutting the heads clean off of the vampires in front of them.
Hunters.
I looked back at the thing on top of me and plunged my machete into its chest. Blood rushed out like a waterfall and soaked my clothes. I closed my mouth tight, praying I wouldn't get infected. With one small kick, it was off me and laying on the pavement. I held up my weapon and quickly brought it down, cutting its head off.
I looked back at the forest, waiting for more. After a minute of silence, I turned towards the men who hit me.
"Who the hell are you and why are you here?" I asked as I slid the machete back in the holster.
The two men threw their weapons back in the trunk and closed it. They turned back around and began walking towards me. I quickly drew my gun and pointed it at their heads.
They put their hands up and stopped walking.
The shorter of the two spoke first. "My name is Dean," he began. "This is my brother, Sam. We're hunters." Dean said, "I'm assuming you are too?" He took a step forward and ushered towards me, looking at the blood that soaked my clothes. "Cuz' if you're not we might have a problem."
I cocked the gun.
Sam took a step forward, standing next to his brother. "We came down to check out the vampire case. But it looks like you got it covered." He gestured towards the vampire that layed at my feet.
I cautiously lowered the gun. My heart rate slowed as the adrenaline faded. The pain of my injuries began to surface. My back ached and I slowly reached behind me, trying to asses the damage i couldnt see. My black leather jacket now had holes torn in the back. I could feel blood drip down my back. I winced as my fingers felt pieces of flesh that had been partially scraped off. I looked down at my leg where i felt another sharp pain. My pocket knife was sticking out of my leg. The blade was pushed all the way in and I could only see the small black handle sticking out. I must've landed on it after I flipped over the car.
I reached down and touched the handle, making the pain in my back worse. I thought it over. Leaving the blade in my leg would be a bad idea. I took a deep breath, and gripped the handle, pulling on it slowly, then quickly, trying to get it over with. I yanked it free and stuck it in my pocket. I could feel a warm trickle of blood down my leg.
Maybe I should've left it in.
I took a step forward, limping.

"I'm Laurel." I said. Cautiously walking closer. I tried to walk with confidence, but the limp made it difficult. "I'm looking for my father. You said you're hunters? Maybe you've heard of him?" I stood in front of them.
"What's his name?" Sam asked, sitting on the trunk of the car.
Now that I stood closer, I could tell it was a 67' Chevy Impala. It was in remarkably good shape, especially for it belonging to hunters.
"His name's John." I said, glancing between the two of them. I still didn't trust them.
Sam and Dean shared a look.
"Winchester?" Dean asked.
How could they know that?
I grabbed my gun and held it up again, stumbling as my weight fell on my leg with the wound.
"What the hell is going on? What do you know?"
"Lower the gun." Dean said. His voice was calm, soothing. It was a voice that made me feel compelled to listen. "I guess we weren't very clear when we introduced ourselves." He said.
Sam stood up. I slowly put the gun back in the holster. I looked at Sam as he spoke, the words seemed to float around my head but didn't seem to register right away.
"We are Sam and Dean Winchester."