Heart of a Hunter

14: The Storm Returns

                                          Blair's POV:

My heart raced in my chest, pounding so loud I was sure Sam and Dean could hear it. I stayed frozen, my body half-hidden behind Sam, as the man in the doorway fixed his eyes on me. His presence was unsettling, like the air had shifted the moment he stepped into the room, thick and heavy, pressing down on me in a way I hadn't felt since the night everything fell apart.

It was happening again. The safety I had started to feel, the brief sense of peace I had found in Sam's arms, was slipping away.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, feeling the soft material of Sam's jacket, as if it could shield me from whatever this man had brought with him. But I wasn't naive. Whatever this was, it wasn't good.

Dean took a step forward, his grip tight on the knife in his hand. "You wanna tell us what this is about? 'Cause if you've come to cause trouble, we can skip the talking."

The man didn't even flinch. He was calm, too calm, and the way he stood there, staring at me like he already knew something I didn't, sent a cold chill down my spine.

"This isn't about causing trouble," the man said, his voice gravelly but measured. "It's about her."

His eyes never left mine, and the weight of his gaze made me want to shrink back, to disappear into the shadows. But Sam shifted, stepping protectively in front of me, and for a moment, I could breathe again.

"What the hell do you mean 'about her'?" Sam asked, his voice low and dangerous. I could feel the tension rolling off him, his body coiled like he was ready for a fight. I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or worse.

The man's eyes flicked to Sam, though his expression didn't change. "You have no idea who she really is, do you?"

The words hit me like a slap. My stomach twisted, confusion and fear colliding in my chest. What was he talking about?

Sam glanced back at me, his face hard but his eyes soft, silently asking if I had any clue what this guy meant. I shook my head, my throat tightening as panic started to rise. I didn't know anything about what this man was talking about, but the way he was looking at me made it feel like I should.

Dean, ever impatient, stepped forward again, getting right up in the guy's face. "You got five seconds to explain yourself, or we'll make sure you don't have the chance to talk at all."

The man didn't back down. He didn't even flinch at Dean's threat. Instead, he slowly reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He held it out toward me, ignoring the way both Sam and Dean immediately tensed, ready for him to pull something far worse than paper out of his coat.

"This will explain everything," he said, his voice still calm. "But I suggest you read it somewhere safe. Once you do, you'll understand."

Sam's hand twitched, and I could see him weighing his options, trying to decide whether to trust this stranger or knock him out before he could cause any damage. Dean, on the other hand, was already edging toward the latter option.

But something stopped me from letting them act. The way the man was watching me—he wasn't lying. Whatever he was here to say, he believed it. And as terrifying as that was, it meant something.

Slowly, I stepped around Sam, ignoring the look of warning in his eyes. I took the paper from the man's outstretched hand, my fingers trembling slightly as I unfolded it.

The first thing I noticed was the seal. An intricate, almost ancient-looking symbol, stamped in dark red ink at the top of the paper. The second was my name.

I blinked, staring down at the letter, trying to make sense of it. My name was there, clear as day, written in sharp, precise letters. I didn't recognize the handwriting, but the words that followed sent a shiver down my spine.

Blair,

You were never meant to be found.

My breath caught in my throat, and I had to force myself to keep reading. The rest of the letter was filled with cryptic references to my family, to a history I didn't understand, and to something I was apparently meant to do—something that was supposed to happen, but didn't. The words were vague, almost nonsensical, but the underlying message was clear: I wasn't who I thought I was.

I looked up at the man, my heart pounding in my chest. "What... what is this?"

"You were never just a victim," the man said, his voice quiet but firm. "You were always part of something bigger. Your family's death wasn't an accident. It was a way to stop what's coming."

My mouth went dry, my mind spinning as I tried to process what he was saying. All I could feel was the cold knot of fear tightening in my stomach. "You're saying... someone killed my family because of me?"

The man nodded once, solemnly. "Yes. To stop you."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. My family hadn't just been taken from me. They'd been taken because of me. Because of something I didn't even know I was part of.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head, taking a step back. "That can't be true."

Sam's hand was on my arm in an instant, grounding me, his voice steady despite the tension in his eyes. "Blair, don't listen to him. We don't know anything yet."

But the man just stood there, unflinching. "You'll know it's true soon enough. The letter is only the beginning."

Before I could say anything else, Dean stepped forward, shoving the man back with enough force to make it clear that the conversation was over. "That's enough. You've said your piece. Now get out before I make you."

The man didn't resist. He just nodded, his eyes flicking back to me one last time. "You're running out of time, Blair. They'll come for you again."

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving behind a silence that was more suffocating than anything I'd felt in a long time.

For a long moment, none of us moved. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of the letter, of what the man had said, but none of it made sense. I wasn't supposed to be found? What the hell did that even mean?

"Blair."

Sam's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to face him, still clutching the letter in my hands. His eyes were full of concern, his hand still resting on my arm like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I shook my head, my throat tight. "No," I whispered. "I don't know what any of this means."

Dean let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Guy's probably just another psycho trying to mess with our heads. We'll figure out what's going on."

But as much as I wanted to believe him, the knot in my stomach wouldn't go away. Something about this felt different—felt real. And that terrified me more than anything.

I met Sam's gaze, my heart pounding. "What if he's right?" I whispered. "What if... my family died because of me?"

Sam stepped closer, his voice firm but gentle. "Then we'll find out why. And we'll stop it from happening again. You're not alone in this, Blair."

I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him. But as I stood there, clutching the letter in my trembling hands, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change. That whatever was coming, I wasn't ready for it.

And I wasn't sure if Sam and Dean were either.