𝔑adia Turner welcomed the wind blowing through her window as she drove down the road in Pontiac, Illinois - the home of Route 66. Though it was September, the summer season clung to life as fall prepared to take its turn.
The sun was scorching hot and the air so humid that the twenty-six year old kept swiping at her forehead. The wind stopped her from perspiring. Yet, she could still feel her body fight against the hot temperatures that be.
Annoyingly, it was always a hot day when she was on a case that called for finding an unmarked grave. She was a fall girl at heart, but a job was a job.
Nadia steers with one hand while tracing a path on the Pontiac map. Four more miles, and she arrived at the edge of the city at the outskirts of an inhabitable forest. She parks on the side of the road, cursing the sun while getting out of the car.
Armed with a shotgun of rock salt, Nadia journeyed through the forest with a duffle bag of supplies.
Out of all cases she'd done, getting rid of a vengeful spirit was one of her peeves. It was less about the work and solely about the person being haunted. For some reason, they always deserved it.
Who kills someone and buries their body where no one would ever think to look?
"Someone who deserves to be hunted," Nadia thought out loud.
Sticks cracked under her boots with every step. She wiped her forehead, adding to the sweat building in her palms.
The unmarked grave would be a few feet away from a deserted campsite below a tree with a cross carved into the trunk.
Nadia kept walking until she stumbled upon the campsite. There were animal prints in the dirt going in and out. A torn tent, tarnished fire pit, and undistinguishable dry goods littering the ground.
Any place deserted naturally put her on edge. She gripped her shotgun and did a 360-degree turn until her eyes landed on the cross-carved tree.
"Bingo," she got to work and started digging.
It was a little over two hours when Nadia finally hit the jackpot. She pants in relief and exhaustion, standing neck-deep in the grave.
Covered in dirt from head to toe, she regretted wearing shorts and was even annoyed that it never crossed her mind not to.
Nadia tossed the shovel to the side and dug with her hands until every bone was uncovered. She climbed out with what strength she had left and drenched the corpse in salt and gasoline.
"Well," Nadia pulls a match. "It's been fun."
Before she could light it, the spirit appeared. She was just as her murderer described: covered in dirt with asphyxiation bruises on her throat.
Simultaneously, their eyes dart to the shotgun. The spirit reacted fast, flinging Nadia into a tree.
The matches slip through her fingers as she lands on her stomach with a groan. She noticed they were in the dirt, merely a few feet away, and groggily crawled toward them.
The tiny box was on the edge of her fingertips when the spirit flipped her on her back. She straddled Nadia and wrapped her hands around her neck, just as her murderer had done to her.
Nadia dug her nails into her skin, staring desperately into her revenge-thirsty eyes when a white light suddenly soared across the sky. It landed in the distance, sending a shock wave through the ground like an earthquake.
Using the distraction, Nadia grabbed the matches, lit a stick, and tossed it into the grave. The spirit screamed in agony, vanishing in a fiery haze.
"Too close," Nadia gulped, catching her breath. She held her neck, hoping there wasn't a bruise left behind. Climbing to her feet, she brushes the access dirt off her clothes and knees.
YOU ARE READING
Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)
Fanfic"She was a true fighter, you could see it in her eyes. She was not born strong, she was made strong." ---- [LATE SEASON 3 - SEASON 4] ---- I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL. ONLY MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND PLOT.
