Without A Trace >> Dean Winchester

07 | The Bat Cave

07 | The Bat Cave

MY EYES ADJUST to the dark walls. When I was dreaming, I felt like I was in such a bright room, being shined with dazzling white light. I look over to the sunshine peering over the oval window, being the only source of light in this room. Sunlight lies on the tiled floor like sweet honey. I could faintly hear the birds chirping from outside, but I doubt this is some kind of fairytale with birds singing their song and ready to help me with laundry. Sweat trickles down my back, like free flowing condensation on a window plane. It beads on my forehead, then drips from my chin.

Just how long have I been asleep? I just had to dream of that awful piece of memory, didn't I? You see, kids, waking up from a nightmare is the best way to start the day. Not a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.

I tie my brown hair up into a loose ponytail, ignoring the knotted locks. With a million questions currently surging though my brain, I waste no time with storming out of the room, grabbing the spare knife I've hidden underneath the heel of my shoe ever since day one of hunting. Gotta be prepared, right? I've been called the mastermind of hiding stuff by my classmates back at elementary when I was younger, since I could jam in packets of chips in one of pockets to nibble on it during class. Of course, I didn't continue school because of the infamous King of Hell, who waltzed into my home gracefully with a baby pink tutu on.

The only thing I remember from last night was killing a hellhound. If I wasn't walking in that neighbourhood that very night, I wouldn't have been able to kill that hellhound and save their asses and accomplish the hunt. Then what happened? I hitched a ride with them, and that's all I remember.  The overwhelming chain of events were simply too much.

I look both ways before completely exiting the room I've been placed in.

Clear.

After debating with myself whether I should go right or left, I take a left turn, slowly moving towards to the edge of the hallway with nothing but a knife as defence. I could've brought a whole cannon with me if I knew I was gonna wake up in an unknown place like the movies.

With my light footsteps and my dilated eyes, I'm on full caution. Just like a predator approaching its prey, I take on each step as if I'm walking on a thin sheet of ice.

Before I could take a sharp right, I collide with a hard surface and I instantly back away to take a good look of my enemy, already positioning for attack.

"Woah, there! Easy, girl!"

"Dean!"

Holy shit my god.

Relief washes through me for a moment at the sight of Dean, but I stop myself from lowering down the knife. I stay on a defensive stance. "Where am I? Why did you bring me here?" My eyes widen, "you're working for that douche, Aren't you?"

"Who!"

"Crowley, you numbskull!"

I earn a raise of his eyebrow and he stares at me with disbelief. "What! No! Of course not! We'd know better than to work with Crowley. We're the Winchesters, remember? ( cue season ten ) We met last night when you saved us. When I offered you a ride afterwards, you fell asleep immediately at the backseat. We carried you into a room and you slept soundly all throughout."