Something Wicked This Way Comes (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

"I don't see what Amelia has to do with anything." A man said behind me. I was tied up, my hands behind me, in a cement room. It was dark and cold.

"She's still different, can't you tell?" Another man said, both men I can't see. I was sitting in a chair in what seemed to be a warehouse. It was too big and roomy to be a basement. I turned my attention back to the two men, who seem to be bickering over my life.

"And what do you plan to do with her?" The second man asked, he was the only one against killing me, and acted as the first man's conscience. I wondered why.

"Isn't it obvious? Kill her." The first man walked toward me with a knife in his hand, his features covered in the shadows. The knife was medium in size and, when he came at me, it reflects in the small light. Engraved on the blade near the handle was initials; A. R.

My alarm clock started to play music, telling me it's 9:30. "It was the heat of the moment." It takes a few tries to shut the stupid thing off, but I got on my third try; my hand was shaking from my dream. Why? It was just a stupid dream. None of it was real.

I get out of my bed and walk to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black t shirt. I get dressed and pull my long, wavy brown hair into a pony tail. My mirror in my room showed me that my normal light blue eyes was almost... icy. That surprised me, since my eyes were never like this. They almost always had an amuse tint in them, a happy, friendly look. Never have they been icy or cold. Weird.

After the three years of living alone, after moving out of my parents house when I was eighteen, after the... incident, I hated the emptiness. I pulled on my black coat, got my keys out of my small pocket and went out to my car, a blue Ford Taurus. Heat of the moment by Asia was still playing. "It was the heat of the moment."

I drove to the library with a stack of books. An older man, maybe 50, held open the door for me on the way in. "Thanks!" I called happily back to him. The elderly aren't always this nice, so you take while you can. I walked over to the front desk and turned in my books. Just as I turned to leave, a man bumped into me. I almost fell, but he caught me, his muscles rippled through his shirt, and he felt almost... steel-like. He must work out a lot.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry. I'm Sam. And you are...?" The man -Sam as he said- has brown eyes and brown hair that came a little past his ears. He was wearing a light brown leather jacket over a grey plaid shirt and jeans.

"Mia Reyes. Thanks for... well, not letting me fall." I mummer, slightly embarrassed for being clumsy. I pull a piece of hair that had gotten loose behind my ear. Sam stared at the motion before looking at my eyes.

"Could I talk to you over there? I have a few questions." Sam pulled out an FBI badge out. Sam Grey was his name, according to the badge. I was curious about the man's clothes, since he was an FBI, but he might be off the clock or something. I don't know much about the FBI to tell if this is protocol for this type of day.

I followed Sam over to where the newspapers were, and not a lot of people. Not that they were normally there. People in this town usually don't come here. That's a shame. Libraries should be used, not empty.

"Did you know any of the people that disappeared?" He started, pulling the badge back into his coat and a black pocket notebook returning. He flipped it open and waited for my reply.

"Derek Miel. I knew him from high school."

"How well did you know Derek? Do you think that he would leave town?" He asked, his face neutral, but his eyes sympathetic, as if he knew the pain of loosing someone. As if I already didn't know.

"I don't know him well. My lab teacher always paired us up. I don't know if he would run away or not."

"Okay. If you know anyone else, or if you can remember anything about any of them, don't hesitate to call." Sam handed me a business card. I looked down at it for a second, then back up to Sam. I studied him for a moment. He looked sympathetic, too sympathetic for the average FBI agent. His eyes looked too kind, even if that doesn't make sense.

I nod once before Sam and I turned away as his phone rings. He looks at the caller ID, and walks away before answering. "No one knows anything about them, Dean. I can't find any reason for it to take them." Sam sighed, obviously not aware that I can still hear him. I didn't know what he was referring to as 'it' but whatever it was didn't sound too good.

"Yeah... Yes, I know... Cherry? Okay." Sam hung up and walked out the library's doors after letting out an exasperated sigh. I walked out the door and back to my car. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and there was someone watching me.