Unhuman Nature

Bedtime Stories

When I was a kid, my mom used to talk about the monsters under my bed. She would tell me stories every night of the heroes who called themselves hunters and protected us from all the evil in the world. She said that the hunters were heroes, but that I was to stay away from them.

The night my mom died is an image that will be forever burned into my mind. I heard shouts coming from her room, I was right outside the door when I saw a bright flash of light and then there was silence. I ran into the room and she was slumped against the wall. She had a rapidly growing stain on her shirt that told me she wouldn't live much longer.

I ran to her side and held her hands and sobbed. "Box... in the... closet..." she managed to say as best she could with blood dripping out of her mouth. I didn't want to leave her side for one second for fear that she'd leave without letting me say goodbye. Nevertheless, I followed her instructions and found an old shoebox, covered in a layer of dust, lying in the far corner of the closet.

I picked it up and brought it over to her, she took the lid off and brought something out. She placed it in my hands and I saw that it was a knife. It was beautifully crafted with a twisted silver blade and a smooth black handle. She told me to keep it hidden and to never lose it. My mom said it was the only thing that could protect me from the bad people who would want to hurt me. Then she told me one last story.

I was too young to fully understand the weight of the words, but now I know why it was so important. She told me about a little girl who had a special power and that she used her power only for the good of the world. Who protected the world and herself from all that was bad, it was also the first time she'd ever talked about my dad. Growing up my mom never talked about my dad and asked me to never mention him or ask about him. I assumed it was because she'd had a crappy relationship with him which was why he'd left when I was a baby.

She told me that my dad was a powerful being who was not to be trifled with. He was "an abomination to heaven" she blatantly put it. So, being the darling daughter I was, I never asked about him, I'd never even known his name. That night she told me his name, she spat it out as if the word itself was poisonous.

"Lucifer. You're... father's name is... Lucifer." She rasped. By now her hands were growing cold and her skin had taken on a grey tinge. We'd never gone to church so I wasn't exactly familiar with the whole Satan being thrown out of heaven stuff.

My mom coughed a few times and even more blood dribbled out of her mouth. I leaned in closer, hugging her as tight as I could without hurting her more. She stroked my hair softly and whispered with her last breath, "I... love you, Indiana. Forever... and ever... no matter... what."

"Forever and ever, no matter what," I repeated her last words in between sniffles.

Once the police arrived at my house, they found me hugging my mother's body like it was the only thing that would keep me accepting reality. I wouldn't, I couldn't leave my mother. The cops had to drag me kicking and screaming down to the station. All of the lights in the house flickered fiercely before shattering into a thousand pieces. My mind and body were numb by the time we arrived at the station, I retreated into my mind, putting up walls to keep myself from being hurt by anyone else.

Shortly after she died I was taken into custody by my aunt Kelly. Don't get me wrong, Aunt Kelly was a great person, but no matter what she did, nothing could fill the burning hole inside me. I'd lived with the heavy weight of grief for a little over three years. All the raw emotion made it hard to control my powers. After that, I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran. I packed what little I owned and I ran.

And ran.

And ran.

I've been running for almost six years. It's a hard life but I've managed to get by. Always moving from place to place. Never staying in one town for more than a week. I've changed my look more times than I can count. Since I ran away, I've cut my hair at so many times over the years, shorter and shorter with every cut. I've now shaved it down to a short undercut. Probably not the smartest choice I've ever made because now I was easier to recognize, and it would take a while to grow back out. I didn't care though.

There was one city where my mom told me to avoid because of who resided there. Two brothers by the name of Winchester and their pet angel, Castiel. As far as my mom knew, Castiel and all the other angels were, in every way, biased against Nephilims. I didn't care why, I just knew that I had to avoid them at all costs.

According to my mom, attracting the attention of the Winchesters and Castiel would only result in painting a metaphorical target on my back, revealing my identity to more hunters and even more angels.

But enough of the tragic backstory. I'm obviously not one for happy beginnings or ends, I'm not very keen on rules or laws either. I guess that's how I found myself in this situation.

Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you'd had to stay on the run out of sight for your whole life. How would you survive? You would probably figure out how to hack credit card accounts or how to pickpocket people without them realizing until it was too late. I suppose it's not that hypothetical because that is exactly what I had to do. Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly a hardcore criminal, I just take what I need and get the hell out of dodge.

Usually, I'm excellent at going about my illegal activity undetected, there have been a few close calls but I manage to keep a low profile. So naturally, the first time I get caught by the cops I just happen to be in Lebanon Kansas. Exactly where my mom told me never to go.

Wonderful.