supernatural one-shots

#2

    The first time the duo had taken a life from someone, they were less than best friends. They were both drunk and tired from partying, but something told them both to follow that girl home. Neither were sure why they decided to, or why they ended up killing her. However, both of them remember how it felt. The rush of fear and exhilaration. The smell and the sounds. Sweat and screams.

    The girl was young, probably about sixteen. The boys were seventeen and eighteen, and they were quickly becoming inseparable. The older one was new to the town, and the younger barely had any friends. After he'd lost his mother and brother in a house fire, he became an outcast. Everyone thought he was unstable. No one wanted to touch him or upset him. That wasn't true back then, but it sure as hell is now. The older one was just looking for someone. He had absolutely no family or friends. He didn't know if they were dead or just ignoring him, and quite frankly, he didn't care. As soon as he'd met the younger boy, he knew he found his someone.

    The night of June 8th was the night of the last day of school, and nearly everyone in their year had come to the party at Willow Bell's house. She had a pool and an enormous house, and her parents were away. How could any graduating high schooler resist? The night of June 8th was also the night Skyllar Russo died. She didn't go gently into the good night. Her death was slow and painful and messy. Her blood was everywhere, seeping into the carpet. Her fear was thrown up from her mouth in loud, gasping screams. Both boys took pleasure from this experience. In the moment, they were killing her for a very serious reason, at least to a high school kid. Now, in their twenties, they can't quite remember why they took her life. They just know they're grateful that night happened. They kept what they'd done hidden very well, clearing away and evidence. They were naturals. They even had a signature symbol. The older boy carved a pentagram-like symbol into the girl's arm. When the police and FBI came into play, they acted innocent and upset, telling the authorities that she was the younger boy's girlfriend. Their lies were believed. No one would ever find out it was the green-eyed boy and the one with the raven hair. Not even after they fled town. Skyllar Russo remains an open case, seven years later. The green-eyed boy and the raven-haired boy are still out there.

——

    "Dean! You forgot my blade!" Cas snapped, rummaging through the bag full of weapons and other various items. Dean bit his lip and looked over at the other man. He stared, just for a moment, at the way that the streetlights lit up his face. Every time they passed one, his eyes shone, the blue taking over. Dean smiled, realizing for the hundredth time how lucky he was. Sometimes, he'd think about Skyllar. If she hadn't walked home alone that night, they probably never would've gotten so close. They would never experience what it felt like to kill. Dean turned his eyes back to the road before Cas could look up and see him staring, again.

    "I'm sorry, Cassie. I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise," Dean said, smirking. Cas' cheeks turned red and he looked away, staring at the trees as they flew by. Dean chuckled and turned his attention back towards the car. If there was anything in the world Dean loved more than Cas, it was his car. He'd had it since he was seventeen, and it had stayed in amazing shape since. Except for the one time he had to crash it to fake his own death. That was awful. It took months to fix it back up, and during that time, they'd had to use random junky cars. The cars smelled like food or sex or smoke. To make it worse, they couldn't even find any victims. Cas and Dean had both decided to forget those few months existed.

    Tonight, the victim was a girl named Marrin. Dean had seen her at a few bars around where they were staying, and he thought she'd make a perfect surprise for Cas. Plus, the girl reminded Dean of Cas. They had nearly the same hair and eye color. They both were very different. Dean had watched her enough to know that she was staying in a motel a few miles away from theirs. She wouldn't exactly be an easy target, but Dean knew she wouldn't be waking up tomorrow. He knew she'd be at her motel room, probably showering. He'd watched her for a few days, learning her pattern. She seemed to have a very strict routine. At first, something seemed a little off about her to Dean. He figured he was just being paranoid, considering he nearly left evidence behind during their previous kill. Dean pulled into the motel driveway, letting Cas know that this was where the girl was.