Where it All Began//Supernatural Fanfiction

17- A Journey in the Dark

The road to the village was quiet. The moon only slightly illuminating its crooked lanes. There, stumbling slightly on the sharp rocks. Walked a man. Tweed coat hanging limply on his skinny frame, head, once held up proudly, hanging in shame and weariness. He walked with a certain weight on his steps, as if each were a journey in its own. He walked quietly, until he entered the village. Head still bent in shame, and feet dragging beneath him.

"Akash?" a small, sweet voice asked. Suddenly breaking the thick silence. The voice, belonged to a small, teenage girl, with large doe-like eyes and thick, dark hair that cascaded gently down her shoulders. The man stopped, looking up slightly, blood-shot eyes locking on the girl.

"Akash?" The man hissed, "Akash is long gone." His voice was harsh and gravelly. The young girl gasped, backing away slightly and staring at the man that was once her brother.

"Then where is he?" She asked boldly, ignoring the desperate, pleading calls from her family, who were still sheltered in the safety of the house behind.

"Dead." The man hissed.

"No," she whispered disbelievingly, "he can't be. He- he promised."

"He promised what?" The man snapped, "that he would come back?" When the girl didn't answer, the man began to laugh. Harsh, biting laughter that pierced the night like a blade running against metal.

"Humans," his laugh came to an abrupt halt as he began coughing violently. Dark, thick phlegm falling from the corners of his mouth to the ground. "I'll never understand them, with their sentimentality and their empty promises." Suddenly, his body took a fierce jerk and he fell to the ground. Twitching and convulsing while the young girl watched on in horror. Abruptly, it stopped. The girl reached down tentatively, hand gently pushing her brother's shoulder.

With a start, the weak body shot up, gripping the girls hand in an iron fist. Eyes searching desperately for something. The person sitting before her now, no longer seemed like the confident, but ailing man that had been there before. This one seemed desperate, afraid.

"Rain," He gasped, and then she realized it was her brother again. "Rain, you must run, they are coming for you." He yelled in pain and clutched his side, bending over and spitting out blood.

"I cannot hold them much longer," he pleaded desperately, hand reaching up and grasping her shoulder tightly, dark blood wetting his lips and dribbling down his chin. "You must run! Now!" As hard as he could, he pushed Rain away. Falling to the ground groaning and holding his abdomen tightly. The young girl hesitated, looking frantically back to where her family stood, huddled against the door frame, fear encompassing their every move. Then back to her brother, who lay convulsing on the ground, begging her to leave. With one last desperate glance back to the only home she knew, looking for the last time into her mother's dark, terrified eyes. She turned around and fled, worn shoes stomping loudly against rocks, and wind slapping against her face and sending her hair flying behind her. And then, in an instant, she was gone.

Blair

I remember back to my first year of highschool, for freshman English, we read a book. Now what book, I don't remember. But I do remember one thing, a phrase, one that, for some reason, stuck to me, "blinded by pain," I remember reading that and scoffing slightly.

Blinded by pain? What does that even mean?

The prospect of it, the very idea, seemed preposterous.

But now, now I understand that expression fully. Pain overtook me, surrounded me, pulled me harshly into its awaiting arms.

And I was too weak to fight it.