Don't Fear the Reaper (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

      I sighed as I walked in the door after a long day at school. I paused to look at the sunset outside the apartment window. I know most kids don't get out of school at sunset- on the last day no less- but I was a tutor there. Everyone had been scrambling all week to get summer tutoring gigs but it was May 31st and I had come up empty-handed. I needed the money to help my dad pay the bills and getting a "regular job" wasn't really an option. The number one rule in the family was "don't miss dinner." It's stupid, I know, but my mom always said it was important for family members to spend time together because you never know when you might lose one. My dad and I made fun of her for it all the time. Until we lost her, that is. I still remember the day it happened five years ago.
     I was eleven years old sitting in my 5th grade classroom. The teacher said that the principal wanted to see me immediately. Worried I was in trouble, I slowly made my way to the principal's office. When I walked in, my dad was there, crying. He said my mom had been in a car accident. He said...
     I shook off the awful memory as I stepped into the apartment.
     "Dad?" I called out. No answer.
     "Weird," I thought, "he knew I'd be home late all week. He said he'd have dinner waiting."
I rolled my eyes as I put a pot of water on the stove. I heard the door slam and a pair of feet enter the living room.
     "I just got home," I called from the kitchen. "Pasta will be ready in half an hour."
     "Shut up you bitch!" My father's voice shouted from the next room. He and I became very close after Mom's death. Even on our worst days, there was no fighting.
     "Uh, long day at work?" I asked as I walked over to where my dad was standing with his back to me.
     "I guess you could say that," he said as he turned to face me. He looked exactly the way he did when he left his morning, except instead of twinkling green, his eyes were a piercing black.
     "Ah!" I jumped back. "You're not my father!"
     "Well, this is his meat suit, but no, Daddy's not home right now," my dad-or whatever was wearing him- said. "Believe it or not, he can see everything that's going on. He's seeing me talk to you through him, and he's going to watch himself kill his only family. Then he will watch as he slits his own throat. But he might even do that without my assistance."
     I made a break for the door, but with the flick of a wrist, the thing in front of me flung me across the room. I got to my feet but it had me cornered, knife in hand. It swung at me, but I jumped back, the blade just missing my throat.
     "You're a quick one," the creature said, "too bad you'll have to die."
     Just then, two men broke through the door. Whatever was "wearing" my father turned to face them, giving me the chance to run to the other side of the room.
     "Ah, the Winchesters," my "father" smirked. "So good to see you."
     "I'm glad you feel that way, because we're here to end your sorry-ass life," one of the men said, wielding a strange looking blade.
     "Yes, I suppose you could kill me, but you'd be killing this girl's father right in front of her."
     The men looked towards me.
     "You okay kid?" one of them asked me. I nodded.
     There was a minute of silence when all that could be heard was the water boiling in the kitchen.
     "Well, maybe we can't kill you," the shorter man said, "but we can send your ass back to Hell." The other man then began chanting in Latin, a language I learned from my tutoring. Although I knew the language, I could not translate these exact words, but it seemed to have a painful effect on my father- or what was controlling him. I watched as it stabbed my father in the abdomen. A he fell, a black cloud escaped his lips and disappeared out the window.
     "Dad!" I screamed as I ran over to him. The knife had penetrated all the way down to the handle. I knew there was no hope, he was already dead.
     I turned my attention to the two men.
     "What the Hell was that?" I half asked half screamed.
     "Just calm down," The taller one said.
     "Calm down? CALM DOWN?!" I shouted. "I just watched my father stab himself!"
     "It wasn't really him," The other man responded. "He was possessed by a demon."
     "You guys are crazy." I retorted. "Demons aren't real."
     "You've got a lot to learn, sister," He replied. "My name is Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam." He motioned to the taller man next to him.
     Only now did I get the chance to really look at them. They had a similar wardrobe: flannel shirt, jacket, jeans, and boots. But that was where the similarities ended.
     Dean was shorter but appeared to be older, mid-thirties maybe. He had dark brown hair and green eyes that looked as if they were crystal.
     Sam, on the other hand, was a few inches taller and had a slightly lighter shade of brown hair that fell just above his shoulders. He looked about thirty.
     "I'm Blakelyn. Blakelyn Warner," I finally answered.
     "Warner? I know that name from somewhere," Sam said.
     "Any family you can chill with?" Dean asked. "I'm assuming you're in high school?"
     "I'm 16 but no, I have no family. My mom died five years ago and she was an only child. My dad is -was- an only child and I have no siblings."
     "What about grandparents?"
     "The grandparents on my mom's side died last year and I never met the pair on my father's side."
     "By chance do you know if your father's father was named Jack or Harry?" Dean inquired.
     "I think it was Jack. How'd you know?" I responded.
     "That's why that name was so familiar, Sammy. Jack and Harry Warner were Men of Letters."
     "Hold up. If she's a descendant of the Men of Letters, she has to be protected. We need to take her in, teach her how to defend herself. The Warners made quite a few enemies with some pretty dangerous monsters. If we could just..."
     "Stop it, Sammy. She's not coming with us. Everyone who gets close to us gets killed. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Kevin, Charlie," Dean turned away. "Their blood is on our hands."
     "You know none of that was your fault, Dean. They chose to give their lives for this cause."