Bad Moon Rising {Supernatural}

A/N: Hi guys! I already have a Supernatural fic up that I'm devoted to, but I decided to go ahead and post this one. It's a stand-alone story that does not take place in any particular season (all you need to know if that Castiel has already been introduced), and it follows a storyline of its own.

DISCLAIMER: My OC, Piper, has a very foul mouth and is extremely crude and suggestive. I feel like in real life Sam and Dean have the demeanor of men who curse a lot, so I've incorporated that into this story. Needless to say, it is definitely a swear fest, with a lot of inappropriate jokes and so on. If that doesn't bother you, hey, Party On Garth.

The "conflict" and plot of this story was video-game inspired by some of my favorites like Alan Wake and Kingdom of Hearts. it won't be on my priority list unless it gains a lot of traction, and it's mainly here to update when I'm bored.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think (try not to be too harsh, I'm a Pisces ;3)

Elizabeth ✡

...

I knocked on the wooden front door of the old house to the same beat as Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls, being that it was stuck in my head from the long drive here. It had been a while since I'd been at the Singer Junk Lot, but it hadn't changed.

     Luckily, I was used to wearing the man-eater boots that I'd paired with skinny jeans and a leather jacket that day, so standing on my feet long periods of time didn't bother me. Hell, I'd hunted in boots like these before. I ain't scurred of no ghost.

     When it came to my job, I was sort of a household name. It was practically sacrilegious for any experienced hunter not to have heard of me at least once. Wherever I went, be it a bar or a hotel, I used all sorts of aliases; this was partly because I liked to remain allusive, and partly because I just liked pretending I was 'Scarlett O'Hara' or 'Tessa Gray.'  People may have only known them as fictional characters, but Piper Lux was very real, and it was just a damn shame if you didn't know who I was. I was raised into the life by some of the bravest men I ever knew, my father being one of them.  From the young age of 9 I was wielding a katana like fucking Samurai Jack. I had been trained well, and I was a deadly woman. 

     Most of the time, I hunted without backup. Attachment issues ran deep in my blood, and I had a hard time really warming up to anyone. When you're a hunter, love makes you fucking weak. Everyone you love dies. Everyone. No exception at all, whatsoever. My dad was the one to teach me that lesson. He was scarfed down by a Rugaru when I was 18.

     As you can imagine, I made paper machet dolls with that motherfucker's intestines.

     Other than my young age of twenty, and ever-soaring skill level, what set me apart from other hunters was the fact that I liked my job. Way too much to be healthy, in fact. And it wasn't for the noble reason that I got to save a few innocent people here and there. I liked my job because I liked equating my evil to that of monsters. I liked feeling like I was the yin to that yang, and then spilling that yang's blood everywhere. I had a disturbing hidden side that few ever got the chance to know about. Hunters might have known my name, but it was a rarity they knew my face. I liked it that way.