𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 || 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Chapter 5 ~ Grim Tidings

Episode: Season 11 - Thin Lizzie Pt. 2 

"Alright, this is it's how it's gonna go," Dean announced, the car door slamming behind him loudly as he turned to face me, leaning his elbows on the passenger door to glance inside, "Sam and I are gonna take care of this whole Lizzie Borden thing and you are gonna sit your dead behind down and stay here, got it?"

I glared daggers up at him before he got shoved from view and replaced by the tall figure of Sam, who leaned down to peek his head inside.

"Look, it shouldn't take that long to take care of this. It's some pretty routine murders, we've seen a lot like this before..." he assured me, although I was still unconvinced, clenching my jaw in annoyance at being barred from joining them.

His hazel eyes softened then at my expression and I could read sympathy there in his gaze as it locked on my own, "Are you gonna be okay out here?"

Sighing deeply in resignation, I chewed my lower lip. It's not as if Sam had much of a say over this anyhow since Dean had apparently decided this for the both of them. And it was progressively getting darker outside, leaving them not a lot of time to investigate. But...it would give me a chance to figure out more about the Winchesters. After all, who could resist doing a little snooping in the Impala? Nodding to him finally, I plastered on a fake smile. It wasn't much but it seemed to convince him as he smiled back, nodding once to his brother as he stood up and they headed on inside the Inn.

As soon as the door shut behind them, I crawled over the front seat to fall into the driver's side. My dark brown gaze scanned the objects lying in the floorboards- stray burger wrappers, a couple of books in Latin, an empty crimson-stained vial, scattered Asian Beauty magazines and something unidentifiable that I could only guess was a...tooth? Cringing, I slid across the leather cushion to the other side, my hands quickly working to open the glove compartment. There wasn't much there to be found though as it fell open, spilling over into my lap: a couple of faded pictures - one of two little boys I assumed to be Dean and Sam in childhood, another of a dark-haired middle-aged man who eerily looked like Negan from The Walking Dead with a blonde woman beside him - and a single very-worn bracelet. Frowning, I ran my fingertips over the purple beads before flipping it over in my palm. The lettering was badly faded, obviously from being handled countless times, but the name printed on the beads was still visible - J E S S.

Jess? Who was Jess? Another hunter? A relative perhaps? But I didn't have time to dwell on it before a scream pierced the air and my head snapped to the sound. It was a woman's scream, high-pitched and full of fear.

My heart stopped in my chest for a millisecond as I realized exactly what it meant - death. The one I'd sensed earlier today. A sigh emitted from my mouth, shaking my head as I glanced down at the little mark on the inside of my wrist. The usually black ink was glowing bright red in the darkness, confirming what I already knew to be true. All reapers had it - a small tattoo of a scythe. It wasn't very noticeable - mostly it was just a way for Death to trace his reapers when the need arose. As well as a way of notifying the reaper in question when a soul was ready to be taken.

Quickly, I shoved the photographs back into the glove compartment, shutting it back with a loud slam before wrenching open the passenger door. The cool night air bit into my skin but I ignored it as I took a step forward, about to head inside when I stopped short. The bracelet was still nestled in my palm. Frowning, I contemplated putting it back when another shriek rang out in the air, emanating from the Inn in front of me. Without another thought, I stuffed the bracelet into my jeans pocket as I raced towards the entrance.

It didn't take long to find the source of the screams. In fact, thanks to the tattoo on my wrist, I found the room it came from immediately, almost like there was a magnet pulling me towards it. As soon as I pushed the door open with the tip of my Converse shoe, a gruesome scene met my eyes. The woman was lying on the floor, her snow-white nightgown soaked crimson around the base of her neck and shoulders. It was clear she had been hit with an ax based on the gashes embedded in her skull as well as the thin tendrils of blood spilling down her forehead. Nothing in the room itself looked disturbed though, leading me to believe it was possible the killer was already in the house when the murder occurred. Briefly, I too note of the time on the clock that blinked back at me: 12:25 AM.

I frowned, my hand sliding down the wooden door as I bent down next to the lifeless body. She was middle-aged, more than likely someone's mother.

"Excuse me? Excuse me, what's going on here?" a feminine voice asked and my eyes drifted up to the ghostly figure of the dead woman hovering in the corner.

Her face was ashen, more from fear than death, I would say, and there was a stark look of fear and confusion in her gray eyes. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her - or rather, for the family she was leaving behind. Getting to my feet, I gingerly stepped towards her, careful not to scare her further.

"What's-what's happening to m-me?" she choked on the words, tears filling her eyes as I gave her a sad smile.

"I'm sorry but...your life here on this earth is over. It's time to go home now," I told her softly.

This was the hard part - convincing them to let go. Let go of the only life they'd ever known, the only existence they knew to go off into the unknown. But it had to be done, it was the way things worked - the circle of life. And death.

"But my son, I can't-I can't just leave him here. He needs me! That isn't fair!" she told me vehemently, her mouse-brown hair that was streaked with generous amounts of gray flipping over her shoulder as she shook her head.

"Life isn't sometimes. No, actually, most times it isn't. And I know that you want nothing more than to stay here. But it's time - it's your time," I told her gently, walking over until finally I stood right in front of the scared woman, "Your son will be okay. Loss is...hard but you get through it. So will he... It's time...it's time."

Through her tears, she nodded and with a gentle touch, I placed my hand on her cheek, directing her gaze to me as I slowly enveloped her in an embrace. There was a bright white light then and I let my eyes flutter shut. I felt the energy of her aura dissolve into me in that moment, my body absorbing her soul like a flower absorbs the sunlight. When I finally opened my eyes, the woman had disappeared and I let my arms fall back to my sides. A sense of finality washed over me as it always did when I reaped and I turned just in time to be met with a pair of cautious hazel eyes.

"Sam," I said, arching my eyebrows in obvious surprise, "What are you...what are you doing here?"

It was then that I noticed the gun in his hand, hanging limply at his side. Strands of his long brown hair fell onto his forehead as he responded, "I heard a scream. I thought... But I guess I was too late."

Both our gazes shifted to the dead body then, still lying in a puddle of blood on the floor.

"There was nothing you could've done," I confessed, "She was marked for death - it was her fate to die tonight."

But Sam only shook his head, clearly not believing my words, "Not like that."

Suddenly, my tattoo began to burn and I hissed in surprise, placing a hand over my wrist. Sam's eyes immediately snapped to me, assessing the situation. When he noticed the expression on my face, he quickly crossed the room to where I stood. His 6-foot frame towered over my much smaller one and after a look from Sam, I rolled my eyes before pulling my hand away. Flipping my wrist over gently, he glanced down to look at what I'm sure he assumed was a wound. But when he saw the mark, his eyes widened in surprise.

I couldn't help but let out a humorless laugh, "What? Never been close enough to a reaper to see their mark?"

"No, I...I didn't know it was possible," he said, his piercing gaze making me glance away from him before he went back to inspecting the marking which was now glowing a bright red in the dim lighting of the woman's now former bedroom, "What does it mean?"

A sigh emitted past my lips and once again, I felt the burning intensity of Sam Winchester's gaze as I met it with one of my own, "It means she wasn't the only one destined to die today."

Note: I know I shouldn't be but I'm oddly happy that I got to finally write Carter reaping souls lol XD