Supernatural Odyssey: Death and Rebirth

Chapter 24

There is great power in a secret. For it is not the known that shaped the world but rather the unknown--the Presence, the Source, and the Unseen Hands--and the fear of it. Having read hundreds of Greek Myths growing up, Sam Winchester knew this and he knew there was no secret on Themyscira greater than where the nine chthonian witch women walked each hunter's moon.

He has met Hippolyta, the queen of the Amazons and ruler of the island a multitude of times, seeking the answers he's dedicated his whole life to finding. It was said that any man who sets foot on the divine island will be killed, but of course, Sam Winchester was no man...and it was not like the Amazons had the means to kill a being like him anyways.

He has coaxed her, bribed her, and even threatened her, but still, Queen Hippolyta forbade anyone to answer his question. But he would learn some secrets in time, as he would uncover the mysteries of the Amazons himself. Tonight was the night...the hunter's moon would rise, and he would finally uncover what primordial power resided near the island.

But other secrets he would learn too that he did not want to know. Sam, like all children, were precocious and curious, though, unlike most children he was capable...a Hypergod of near unlimited potential. In the high peaks over Themyscira lie two workers' paths, paved by footsteps when the island was still new. The paths converged deep in the forest at the crossroads, and Sam watched the witch women dance and sing.

He waited in the thick trees, hiding himself under a thick dark cloak and rendering himself intangible to prevent accidental detection. Three and three and three. It seemed as they danced, their bodies merged strangely and impossibly into one while their heads and arms remained separate and attached to the same torsel. Their limbs contorted with every syllable of their chant.

"HE-CA-TE...HE-CA-TE...HE-CA-TE..."

Hecate, he realized, the Goddess manifest of the Sphere of The Gods, and progenitor of all magic. Behind the witches was something in the dark, something impossibly ancient, and radiated off unspeakable amounts of power. A cauldron of molten gold sat over a blazing fire which they danced around, three as one.

The lid shook, and a pair of hands--no, three pairs of hands--pushed the lid open and a trio of heads emerged from the molten gold. A singular being with three heads, six arms, and one body rose from the liquid gold, sending droplets of scolding hot metal raining down around them. She had rings of gold around her neck, bracelets with sigils carved into them around her wrists and arms.

One hand held a dagger, one hand held a torch, and one hand held a glowing hot branding iron, and two hands held chains of keys. He recognized her: she was Hecate, the Triple Goddess, his primary target. Throwing off his cloak, he revealed himself; growing to over 100 feet in height, his head burst out through the trees, and his feet stomped through the bushes.

The witches as well as Hecate looked up, startled, by the sudden intrusion. His eyes glowed blue with power. His breathing shook the Earth. Kneeling down, he slammed his fist into the ground threateningly, making the three (or nine) merged witches immediately drop to their knees, begging Hecate. "Please, Lady Hecate, save us!"

"Hecate." said Sam, "because of your past relationship with my late brother, you will be warned once. Surrender your power or face complete annihilation."

Hecate took to the air as well, flying through a magical force field which she conjured beneath her feet to sustain herself. Before his behemoth of a form, the Witch Goddess looked like a small bird. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Sam!"

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't!" Raising her hands, she bombarded him with twin jets of brilliant pink lightning, aiming especially for the weak spots: the eyes, the ears, and the throat. "OW!" Sam felt burning pain in both his eyes, causing him to double over, clutching them with his hands. He couldn't see; his eyes had been burned clean out, leaving nothing but two trails of smoking rising from their sockets.