Wanted Dead or Alive | 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

15 - POOR UNFORTUNATE SOUL

SEASON 1, EPISODE 22

Reapers were creatures of legend.

In medieval times, when crusaders and heroes alike still roamed the streets in broad daylight, parents told their children tales about reapers to scare them. They told of their innumerable ranks, of the race that never stopped reproducing - for death was never really extinct, though gods and goddesses liked to think it was - and the children shivered beneath their burlap sheets. They begged their parents to bar their doors and windows because if they didn't, a reaper might come and steal their souls.

No reaper enjoyed hearing the stories that were told about them. They weren't heartless, domineering monsters that fed on human souls - they were simply servants carrying out their job.

But Mara...Mara was living up to the legends of old. With every sin she committed, with every soul she stole on Meg's command, she was becoming the very demon that humans were afraid of. She was transforming humanity's misconceptions into something true.

Nevertheless, despite all the innocent people she'd killed and all the trust she'd betrayed, no sin could measure up to the atrocity she was about to commit now. Meg wanted her to steal the colt from the Winchesters, and she was going to have to do it. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to steal the one thing that would enable them to complete their life's goal.

As Mara sat in the backseat of the Impala, her hands gripping the edges of her seat so she wouldn't fall over as a result of Dean's driving, she could only think one thing: I could've grabbed the colt.

And she could have. Back at the hotel room where she'd appeared to the Winchesters, she'd watched, stagnant, as Dean slipped the colt into his waistband. She hadn't done anything but stare, her emotions and her duty trading blows, as the oldest Winchester wrapped his fingers around the coal-black gun he valued so highly. She should have done something - she was wasting time.

But she just couldn't do it. She couldn't help but feel that, if she did carry through with Meg's orders, she would be acting treasonously against her own heart.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could've taken him," Sam spat through his teeth, his jaw tight and his eyes staring straight ahead.

'No,' Mara thought. 'No, you couldn't have.'

Dean's eyes were boring through the windshield and into the road ahead of him. "What we need is a plan. Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we just need to figure out where. They're gonna want to trade him for the gun."

'Or they'll kill you and pry the gun from your cold, dead hands.'

Mara winced at the harsh sentiments that were running through her mind. She couldn't stop them. They were coming, violent thought after violent thought, and no barrier she put up could stop them from penetrating her stream of consciousness.