Killing Sam Winchester (Sam Winchester FANFIC)

Killing Sam Winchester (Sam Winchester FANFIC)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 33m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 9, 2017
I was asked to kill. This is my job. I kill people for a living. I see people's life run out of their eyes for millions of dollars. The very source of themselves dripping away into Hell. I enjoy the pay, yes. I have cash in the bank and food on the table and thats what counts. It's what I do. I kill. A little bit about me? I'm a Delora Nettles. I've been dead for seven years now. I was brutally murdered on a cold November night with nothing more than a knife and cold heart. No, I am not actually dead but rather faking my death. It's just easier for the job to be done without anybody scratching at my records. I have many names, Abigail, Chloe, Rene... You get the point. Nobody can really make sense of who I am anymore, heck along the journey I've been slowly losing myself to the demon inside. We all have that naughty creature crawling up and down our spines, I just can't shake it off. It seems that everytime somebody puts a blade in my hand, that very demon stirs. I now have a new assignement. Kill Sam Winchester.
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They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.

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