A Supernatural Fanfiction.

Finding Carrie Singer

The coffee steamed from the mug, thawing my fingertips. The diner booth I’d been seated in had a rogue spring prodding my lower back for the past 20 minutes no matter which way I sat. The bell on the door jingled, my hand immediately gripping the cold metal hilt of my pistol.

Two men walked in, seating themselves just a few booths in front of me, near the door. Leaning over the table, they talked hurriedly in hushed whispers. Sipping the scalding liquid still simmering in the mug, I shivered as it slid down my throat warming me from the inside out.

Then, the smell of sulfur forced its way into my nostrils. A waitress approached my table, a pungent odor of rotten eggs wafting off her. An evil grin spread wide across her face, and I whipped out a flask filled with holy water, spraying its contents on her.

Buying myself some time, I jumped over the booth seats, nearly colliding with the two men, on my way to the exit. Scrambling out, I began chanting an exorcism, drawing the demon out of the diner and into a trap. She took the bait.

Suddenly, gunshots erupted, causing me to lose focus long enough for the demon to knock away my bag, the devil’s trap throw blanket and holy water filled syringe spilling onto the gravel. The two men came barreling through the diner doors, and with a flick of her wrist, the demon sent them flying through the air.

A laugh rang across the parking lot. “My my, you sure have grown since the last time we met.”

Positioning my right arm further behind me, I gripped tight onto my holy water filled syringe. The two men helped each other up, only to be forced down once again by the demon.

“Bitch!” Shouted the shorter of the two.

Turning her head, the demon opened her mouth to respond, giving me the perfect opportunity to inject the holy water into her calf. Kicking open the devil’s trap throw, I shoved the demon into its prison and continued with the exorcism. Gasping, I stood above the dead body as black smoke seeped into the ground on its way back to the pit.

“What the hell just happened?!” The shorter one shouted, storming toward me.

“How about a ‘thank you?’” I responded, cleaning up the mess.

“Dean, calm down.” The tall one said to Dean. “How did you do that?”

Pulling the devil’s trap throw from beneath the body, I rolled it up. “It’s called an exorcism.” Meeting his eyes, I continued. “Leave while you still can. Cops should be here in three minutes.”

Dean spoke again. “Yeah, and what makes you think we’re going to just walk away after watching you gank that demon single handed with a needle and a blanket?”

Pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I walked away from them toward my car. “Since you know about demons, I’m assuming you know about holy water?” I opened the back door to my 1976 Jeep Cherokee, tossing my bag in. Repositioning my pistol to the back of my waistband, I turned to look at him. “All I did was get the holy juice pumpin’ through her veins.”

“That’s…” Dean began.

“Brilliant.” The other interjected.

“Shut up Sammy!” Dean scolded. “So are you a Hunter?”

Slamming the door, I let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. “Well, look at you! Someone ate his Wheaties this morning.” Sam laughed, quickly trying to cover it with a cough. “Yeah, I’m a Hunter; you two?”

“We’re Hunters. I’m Dean Winchester, and chuckles over there is my brother Sam.”

“It’s been a pleasure Dean, but I’d rather not get arrested.” Starting up the engine, I put the Jeep into reverse.