Samantha Nightingale comes from a family of respected hunters. Her Uncle is a hunter, her Aunt a white witch. She dabbles in magic, it coming naturally to her. She gets a call one day from a family friend, asking her to be with his sons. This is her...
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They trio got some sleep after the long day. However, Samantha could hardly sleep at all and decided to run. The running kept the nightmares away, the horrific memories, the torture all were eating until she fell into a slumber. When she got back, she saw Sam awake and moving around outside.
"Hey." He greeted as the woman pulled out the earbuds that gave her music.
"Hey, what are you doing up?" She asked, panting a bit.
"I was going to run for some coffee, want some?" He offered, gesturing to the impala.
"Sure, but we take my car." Samantha bargained, heading to her motel room. "Just let me get changed real quick."
Sam have her a nod and went to stand by the red Monte Carlo. Inside, Samantha looked around and placed her earbuds on the nightstand. She looked in the mirror and saw bags under her eyes and sweat all over her face. Her running pants and shirt cling to her body. She promised she would be quick so she snapped her fingers and she was in a grey shirt, a green jacket, jeans and brown boots. Her hair was in a single French braid and she was clean. The perks of having some magic, easier and quicker time to get cleaned up.
As soon as she grabbed her keys, Samantha walked out the door. Sam gave her a look of confusion.
"That was less than five minutes." He remarked, getting into the car.
"Perks of having magic." She replied, giving a shrug. "Ready to go?"
They drove off to get coffee, the silence being a bit awkward.
"So, why don't you tell me why you're really up so early?" Samantha questioned, her eyes on the road. Sam gave her a look, to which she shrugged. "I'm like a human lie detector. My aunt taught me how to read people's behaviors."
He let out a sigh, rubbing his fingers through his shaggy hair. "I have nightmares."
"Anything in particular?"
"My girlfriend, Jess. She died recently. She was in the ceiling, on fire. Just like our mom." He explained.
"You think it's the same thing?" She asked, turning a left.
"Yeah. What about you?" He said, directing the attention to her.
She took a deep breath and glanced at the young man. "I have nightmares about being in Hell."
"Hell?" Sam repeated.
"Yup," Samantha answered, popping the 'p'. "I made a demon deal and was there for ten months, which is a hundred years down there. And I remember every moment of it."
Her eyes never left the road, only looking ahead. She did glance at the man, wondering if he was going to talk.
"You can talk, I'm not going to be offended." She chuckled as she made a right turn.
