Wanted Dead or Alive | 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

6 - YELLOW EYES

POST SEASON 1, EPISODE 18

Mara hated the color red. She hated it with a cavernous, burning, raging passion - a passion that her benign nature was not familiar with.

She wasn't sure exactly when her fiery hatred for the color first began to develop. As she was being summoned to an unknown place by a demon she didn't want to know, she couldn't help but wonder if it was due to how often she saw crimson blood while carrying out her duties as a reaper. Or, perhaps, the warm color was a prevalent object in a distant memory that had more of an impact on her than she'd thought. But, once her whimsical form evolved into a physical one, her eyes landing on the shimmering ring that decorated Meg's dainty hand, she knew for certain where her hatred sprouted from. The bright red gem in the center of the ring was the manifestation of it.

"Mara," Meg spoke, her lips curved in a malicious smile. "Long time, no see."

Mara let out a huff, her own lips curling in an uncharacteristic snarl. "Not long enough."

The reaper peered at the walls that surrounded her, her brows furrowed in confusion at the lack of embellishment they possessed. In every place Mara had been, even in the hospitals in the poorest towns in America, there was always something adorning the walls. Even if it was nothing more than a simple welcome sign, the walls were never bare. But wherever she was - whatever ramshackle building it was that Meg had chosen to summon her to - the only thing on the room's walls was ash and dust.

"Where are we?" Mara asked, not bothering to spare Meg so much as a glance as she continued to survey the room they were in. The only piece of furniture was a rotting wooden chair, the only sign of life being a red smear on the north wall. Red. A shiver crawled down Mara's spine.

"Azazel doesn't usually bother with finding John, you know," Meg hummed. Her eyes flicked behind her, toward the only door in the compact room, as if she was nervous. "That's our job."

Mara nodded. "I know. That's what I was doing before you dragged me to this...this closet of a room. Did you have a reason for that or were you just bored and looking for someone to bother?"

If Mara had been speaking to anyone else, she might have winced at the white lies that were spilling from her pale lips. She had been searching for John Winchester as she'd just claimed, but at the same time that she'd been duteously following her orders, she'd been thrusting a gleaming sword in Azazel's back. The yellow-eyed demon would surely assign her a tortuous retribution if he discovered she'd been helping the Winchesters. He'd made it painfully obvious that she should always be prepared to do just the opposite. After all, the ruin of the Winchesters did have a part, if only a small one, in Azazel's grand scheme.

Meg shot Mara a glare in an effort to display her vexation regarding the reaper's derisive tone. "He found John. Or, he thinks he did, at least."

A ray of hope shot up Mara's body, but the expression she wore remained placid as she tried to hide the shimmering emotion that shone from the core of her chest.. If Azazel found John, then that meant Mara's work for him was over. He'd always said he only needed her until he found John, and then she would be free to transport souls of all kinds to their existential destination. She wouldn't have to be a servant to demons anymore. She could go back to serving death, like she was always meant to.