The Rise of Dawn - Dean Winchester

Chapter 2. Good Job Grandma, You Broke Your Hip

Niamh parked her car at the end of the street, a little farther from the entrance to the visitor center, to avoid detection while she looked around for clues. Darkness was already slowly falling, and the cold autumn wind coming from the direction of the forest was not helping with her shivers either. Before leaving the motel, she put on her black leather jacket, under which the short-sleeved shirt with the red dragon print. She wrapped her arms around herself for warmth and made her way to the entrance of the building. 

As she walked toward the rusted front door, she fumbled in her pockets for a flashlight and the tools necessary to break into the facility while clutching the strap of the rifle that rested on one of her shoulders. A metal fence surrounded the building that served as a visitor center. The once yellow color of it was now rotten from rust that had adhered to the bars of the entrance double door. It was secured with a padlock that Niamh assumed would be easy to remove. 

She turned on the flashlight and clamped it between her front teeth so she had both hands free to handle the instrument. The breeze freshened so that her strands blew in front of her eyes which caused her to push air out of her nostrils in frustration. Before reaching for her latch breaking pick, she tied her thick hair into a ponytail. Niamh noticed that the lock had been tampered with before, but she ignored the said detail and continued with her handiwork.

She inserted the tension wrench into the plug, applied pressure, and reached for a lockpick to fiddle with a mechanism inside the plug. While applying light pressure with the tension wrench, Niamh used the lockpick to push up the pins inside the plug, one at a time. A loud noise came from the center's building. Niamh's breath became shallow, rapid. Her heart pounded faster. Her hands began to tremble from the sudden disturbance. 

Cling.

The lock-picking tool dropped to the ground.

"Get a grip, girl," she muttered through the flashlight between her teeth, taking deep breaths to focus.

She tried the same method again with the lock, and when she applied a little more pressure to the tension key, the lock loosened and opened, causing Niamh to yelp and put her fist in the air.

As she walked along the designated path to the cottage, Niamh carefully considered her surroundings. A dense hedge surrounded the hut, and the flowers in the planters appeared healthy and freshly planted. She did not like the unfavorable conditions, in which she could not see more than a few feet, and the eerie sounds sent a tingle down her spine. The visitor center was a wooden shack made of thick logs that probably came from the forest itself.

Approaching the front door, Niamh mentally braced herself for another break-in. As she slouched down towards the lock, a sharp pain glided through her pained leg making her whimper and instantly put her hand over her mouth. She made a mental note to see if any wound had opened once she got back to the motel.

As the huntress stepped over the threshold of the entrance, she heard the creak of the closing doors and the sound of the wind passing through the cracks between the logs. She pointed her flashlight in the direction ahead and reached for the rifle tucked into the back of her torn black jeans. Moving slowly to make as little noise as possible, Niamh scanned the room, hoping to spot a map of the place that would help her hunt the monster and avoid getting lost. She knew the forest, but since she was gone for so long, she couldn't remember any shortcuts or easier ways to get back safely if she ended up deep in the dense canopy of evergreen trees.

Niamh turned away from the information desk and headed toward the offices. All of sudden, she felt a searing pain in the back of head and neck. She fell to the floor, lights dancing before her eyes. She held out sound, restraining herself to make any more to see what the attacker would do next. The only sound that could be heard was the impact of her shotgun on the ground. Her experience in such situations allowed her to quickly turn on the ground and trip her attacker with her feet. Carried by adrenaline, she jumped back to her feet, pressed her knee to the enemy's stomach. Her flashlight and rifle pointed at an unfamiliar figure that had surprised her from behind.