REVIVE ▸ d. winchester [2] ✔

Chapter 11

Dean's POV

Tom and Nancy found no part of our story shocking. At no point did they accuse us of being crazy or liars or mentally insane. They just listened. They listened to the story of who we are, sitting intently as we spoke of how we got into this whole situation. And we explained Azrael, along with everything he plans on doing and the things he had already accomplished. Their lack of reaction only fed my curiosity as to who these people really were.

"To be honest, we're running out of leads. We don't really know why we're here," Sam finishes. "But for once, we didn't find a dead end with you. So anything you can tell us, anything at all, about Larry Ganem, it would help."

Tom sits in his chair, clearly more awake from his nap than he was when we arrived. His hands still sit on his lap, lightly grasping his wife's, and he listened keenly the entire time.

"Nancy," Tom speaks in a raspy voice once we finish, turning towards the woman next to him with a small smile. "Would you ever believe that there are hunters sitting in our living room." Nancy only responds with an uncertain squeeze of her hand on his. She looks to us, and while her husband seems to have accepted our facts, she seems hesitant to trust us.

"Tom, hunters are... barbarians," she whispers, not seeming to care that we were sitting no more than five feet away from her and could hear her perfectly well. Sam looks at me skeptically, and I find myself wondering if I should take offense to what the woman said.

"Maybe when we knew them, darling," her husband responds. "Maybe way back when, but they're doing our job now."

I clear my throat and interrupt the couple's hushed conversation. "Tom, you mentioned something earlier- The Men of Letters. What exactly is that?"

"That's whose work you gentleman have taken over," Tom says simply. "The Men of Letters was a secret society, one that was built upon the secrets of the supernatural. They were beholders, observers, preceptors- they held the knowledge of the world between each of them."

"So, there used to be a worldwide society of people who... hunted monsters?" Sam asks skeptically.

His answer is a simple nod. "You can call it that."

"So, what happened to them then?" I ask. "If they were so great, where'd they go?"

"Every great empire eventually falls," Tom puts it after a slight pause. "The Men of Letters was a force to be reckoned with, but as you've probably discovered yourselves, there's always something out there that is... unexpected."

"In 1958, the Men of Letters was at the peak of its strength. We had significant numbers, the weapons were greater than ever and there were worldwide connections- if fact, the night that everything went to hell, I was at an initiation of one of my dear friends. He was proud to be part of such an organization, even if he couldn't tell his wife and son of it.

"Henry, my friend, he would have been a great leader. But I was never able to see him be that. That same night, the whole organization fell apart. The base I was stationed at for the initiation was attacked by a woman. We had never seen anything like her before, and it wasn't until years after that I discovered what she really was: a Knight of Hell. Abaddon was her name. Oh, she was full of such fury. With a single hand she brought down the whole American branch of the Men of Letters. Every man in that base was killed, and I never saw Henry again. Only I was left, but she took from me my sight, not my life. She took from me my family, the one that I had created within the Men of Letters."

Tom stops talking and just sits, remembering and submitting himself to the memories. Neither Sam nor I urge the man to continue- we knew he would. What he had in his head, his knowledge and memories of this society, it could solve everything for us. It could be the key we've been looking for. So we don't push him.