Third Person POV
"FBI," said the two suited men, "We were wondering if you wouldn't mind telling us what had happened the night of Amelia Thomson's murder."
"Why," the young, brown haired girl scoffed, "so you can laugh at me too?"
"We're not here to laugh at you. We're just here to figure out what happened," the larger man with longer hair stated, "Anything you can tell us is helpful."
"It's like I told the police," she began after a long pause, "I was walking to my car after my shift at the bar. When I turned the corner I saw some guy standing over Amelia's body. She was covered in blood and it looked like the guy had it on his mouth too. And he had these- these teeth. They were sharp a-and almost looked like shark teeth. I-I don't know."
"Was there anything else that might've stood out to you? Like a scar or a tattoo of some sort?"
"Actually, yeah, now that you mentioned it, he had some sort of Celtic looking tattoo on his left forearm."
"Alright, ma'am, thank you for you help. If you remember anything else or see anything," he flashes his business card, "give us a call."
"Yeah, sure," the girl replied as she slowly closed the door.
"So," began the shorter of the two as they both walked to the black, 1967 Chevy Impala parked across the street, "what are we looking at, then? Vampire attack?"
"Looks like it. And his favorite snack seems to be women in their early twenties; specifically ones that hang out at the local bar," the tall one says while climbing into the passengers seat, "Why don't you go talk to more of the locals while I go back to the motel and try to figure out more about our suspect."
"Sure thing," the other sighs before closing the car door and driving off.
»»-------------¤-------------««
Max's POV
"David Winters," I say to myself, "So you're the vamp I'm going after."
I stare at the picture of the scrawny, ginger man with the strange Celtic tattoo before shutting my laptop. I quickly put on a dress and do my makeup before grabbing a syringe of dead man's blood and strapping my machete to my leg. A dress is not my ideal outfit choice but someone's gotta be the bait and I'm not letting anyone other than me to get close to that monster.
Why couldn't the victims be girls in jeans and leather jackets?
»»-------------¤-------------««
Once I arrive at the bar, I take a seat against the wall and begin to scan the room. After about twenty minutes of waiting, I notice a man with ginger hair and a Celtic tattoo plastered on his left forearm walk in and take a seat at the bar counter.
That's my cue.
"Hey there," I say as I sit next to the man, resting my chin in my hand.
"Hey cutie," he smirks, "What's your name?"
"Olivia," I push my short, dark chestnut red hair behind my ear.
"Well, Olivia, don't you just look delicious."
"What do you say we go out back, then, and you can have a taste of me," I flirt while internally cringing.
"Gladly."
I grab his hand to lead him out the back door where he then pushes me against the wall. His hungry eyes study every inch of me while his hands tightly grip my shoulders.
"You look very delicious indeed," he says as he opens his mouth to reveal his fangs. I clutch the syringe in my left hand while getting ready to grab my machete with my right. He moves in closer and I ready myself when--
"Hey, you pervert," I hear a husky voice call out. Both me and the vamp turned to see two men: One with short, light brown hair and a taller one with medium length, dark brown hair.
The vampire hisses as it lets go of me and charges at the two. The three of them begin to exchange punches, accompanied by the occasional swipe of a machete. Despite his small structure, this vamp seemed to be stronger than they had anticipated. Before I knew it, the taller one was knocked out against the wall while the vampire had the other pinned to the ground by his neck. I groan before walking over and bringing my machete down on the vampire, cutting his head clean off. The shorter man then kicks off the corpse and rushes over to the other guy.
"Hey, Sam, you alright?" he shouts, shaking his partner.
"Ah, yeah, Dean. I'm fine," Sam groans as he sits up.
"You know a thank you would be nice," I mutter under my breath.
"Thank you?" Dean questions, "You were pinned against the wall about to get bitten before we arrived. You should probably be thanking us."
"Yeah you actually made this hunt a lot more difficult than it had to be so thanks for that," I scoffed, "Not to mention that I just saved both of your asses."
"Wait. You're telling me that you're a hunter?"
"No, I'm a damn circus clown. Yes, I'm a hunter! I don't know if I can say the same for you two, though, seeing as that vamp almost got the best of you."
"Are you ser-- do you even know who we are?"
"Nope."
"We're the freakin' Winchesters. Every monster and hunter knows who we are."
"Wait, Winchester? Are you like John Winchester's brothers or something?"
"Wha-- no we're his sons."
"That's impossible," I scoff, "John only had a daughter."
"Daughter? No, he only had two sons. Well, also Adam, but that's besides the point. Who do you even think you are, talking nonsense about our dad?"
"Maxine Winchester. John Winchester is my father."
A/N: Hey guys! Hope you liked the first chapter of this crappy story lol. If you have any ideas for what should happen in this story, please let me know! :) ~Mel
YOU ARE READING
Bloodline
FanfictionAfter her mother was killed in an unnatural fashion and her father had disappeared, Max has become a hunter. Now that she's 19 years old, she's faced almost every monster known to man. She had been doing fine on her own until she runs into two hunte...