Haunting ▹ Dean Winchester [2]

PART ONE ; six

      six ; devour your oppressors

      The influential odor of copper drastically permeated through the decommissioned warehouse, the stench pervaded Odessa's senses and the capability to cogitate on anything else. The obscurity of the shadows and the amount of discarded pipes and aged-warehouse utilities prevented her from bearing her customary attire. As of now, as she stealthily dashed through the building alongside the brothers, her apparel consisted of a grey loose, long-sleeved blouse, charcoal-black skinny jeans, and simple black boots, which, unfortunately, weren't heeled. And, as Sam and Dean blatantly mentioned, Odessa was considerably small beside them. She barely reached their broad shoulders, and they were completely amused by this. 

      Speaking of, Odessa and Sam's friendship hadn't improved significantly. She supposed they spoke more frequently and they weren't as snarky with each other. They no longer pretended the other transmitted lethal doses of radiation. She had been satisfied with the lack of communication once, but now, she was beginning to miss him. She didn't have enough vitality to continue arguing with him. Previously, she picked fights with solely for the purpose to vex him. She knew this agitated not only Sam, but Dean as well. She took that a sign to lessen the nettlesome. 

      In the midst of her slumbers, Odessa regularly found herself envisioning nightmares exclusively composed of Sifewood. The dreams ranged from full-fledged nightmares to memories of the Organization of The Elite and their meetings. Some of these dreams impacted Odessa negatively the following morning and hindered her mindset. She didn't understand why. Surely this must've been Sifewood's misdeeds occurring. There was the possibility of her doing this to herself; if she wasn't hunting or sleeping, she was searching for his whereabouts. And every single time she scoured for the man, the trail was always cold. She wasn't making any improvements with her search, and she was slowly driving herself into insanity.

      Flashlights beaming into the darkness, they tracked the splattered puddles of blood and the shivering whimpers. The victim's eyes landed on them, bug-eyed and shaking as he tried to regulate his breathing. The man's hands were stained with his own blood and large bite on his neck. Sam reassured him, explaining they were going to call him an ambulance. "Where is she? Where'd she go?" Dean demanded, his grasp on his machete tightening. Warily, the victim pointed behind where Odessa crouched. Hastily, she stood and dashed though the compacted corridors, ignoring Dean's protests. 

      Eventually slowing to a complete stop, Odessa circled frantically as she searched for the vampire. Swirls of vapor escaped her lips, diminishing into the frigid atmosphere. Her thin long-sleeved blouse gradually became sodden from the lightweight downpour, uncomfortably seizing into her skin. Peeking down at the reflective, elongated blade enclosed by her palm, she rolled her sleeve below her elbow. Elevating the machete overhead her forearm's skin, she pressed the steel against her skin and steadily slashed a thin line. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she confined the threatening wince as blood trickled down.