Roads Untraveled ~ Sam Winchester

All American

A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ever Supernatural fanfic! Exciting stuff, I know. My OC is played by the ever-gorgeous Dayana Crunk; one of my favourite alternative models. And, for future reference, 'Smythe' is the old English spelling of Smith - because I'm awkward like that.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I really enjoyed writing this.
This is basically a write-up of the show, including quite a few actual episodes, just including my OCs. This may not be your thing, but I hope you give it a go and enjoy it all the same!
- Rayna xoxo

Becoming a Vampire isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. Especially when you'd been raised a Hunter.
You see, thousands of years ago, dark magic created Vampires. Some of them couldn't hack it and became monsters. Others had their moments. But ones like Elizabeth Smythe were different. They were the ones able to control themselves around Human blood - the ones who could integrate back into society with reasonable ease.
The physical differences were pretty easy to spot, when their fangs were out, anyway...
The ones who had lost control or had their bad moments had a full set of sharp, dagger-like fangs. Vampires like Elizabeth, however, only had two canine fangs. Where do you think the stories came from?

Elizabeth Mary Smythe was born in England in the winter of 1764. Shortly after that, her parents got on a ship and moved to the Americas.
They'd settled in Virginia, raising Elizabeth as a 'true American', whatever that meant.
But not long after her eleventh birthday, Elizabeth's father had been called to war. He lasted a full seven years before he became just another piece of cannon-fodder - a toy soldier kicked into the mud by the man-sized children in charge.
Five years after the war had ended; a twenty-three year old Elizabeth had made her place in the world known. Her exquisite piano skills were the talk of every town she rode into.
She was loving life in the new United States of America. Even if she had to stop her usual habits to assist her mother in a hunt for some kind of Vampire, ghost or Demon.
Everything changed, however, after she met a man. But then, that's how it always starts, right? With a man?
This particular stranger was called Alexander Finley.
Mister Finley was the type of person who flaunted his wealth to the less fortunate with nothing but arrogance and a nose tipped to the Heavens.
He had approached Elizabeth in the lobby of a theatre she had performed at earlier that evening.
His stride over to her exuded elegance, mystery and danger. His dark brown eyes grew black with lust. She was simply too good to pass up.
"Good evening, Miss Smythe." He greeted, tipping his head with a half-cocked smile. "Might I say your performance this evening was positively decadent. I hope to hear more of you in the near future."
He looked at her with a sense of familiarity - like he'd known her in a past life or something.
Elizabeth smiled brightly, curtseying to the man before her.
"Thank you, sir. You are too kind."
Her voice was like an angel's song - delicate and as musical as her fingers. It had surprised even Finley. He wasn't expecting such a well-spoken English voice to come from those full, pale lips.
"My name is Alexander Finley. I was wondering if you'd do me the honour of joining me for a drink." His half smile widened into a hopeful grin.
Elizabeth nodded, placing her hand in the one he'd held out for her.
Biggest mistake of her life.
He had tricked her into a nearby alley and fed from her only an hour later. Like he was a rat and she was his scraps. He force-fed his blood down her throat whilst half-conscious and that was that - the beginning of the end of her life.

When she woke, Elizabeth found herself in a stunning four-poster bed, her surroundings entirely unfamiliar.
A wave of nausea crossed her stomach, causing her icy blue eyes to widen and dart around the room in search for something to catch the contents of her stomach.
But nothing came. Only an overwhelming sense of hunger.
"Ah, you're awake." Finley's voice came from the double doors at the end of the bed. His smile was sickening, but somehow suited his slim, chiselled face. "You've been out for some time now."
Elizabeth scrambled out of the bed, grabbing a candlestick as she composed her memory of the previous night. She held the stick up in front of her.
"Stay back!" She commanded. "Where am I?"
"There's no need for makeshift weaponry, Miss Smythe. I won't hurt you." Finley replied, taking a step forward with his hands up to show her he meant no harm. And there was that familiar look again...
"Where am I?" Elizabeth repeated.
"You're in my town house, Elizabeth. You're only a few streets from the theatre. Do you remember the events of last night?" Finley's brows raised in curiosity.
Elizabeth lowered the candlestick as her eyes fell into a squint, trying to remember what had happened.
"The alley. You... Bit me." She gasped, raising the candlestick once more. "You're a Vampire!"
"Yes, I'm a Vampire." He simply said. "And now, you are too."
Elizabeth's brows knotted together in a deep set frown.
"That's... I can't be. I hunt monsters like you." She breathed.
"And yet, here we are." Finley smirked. "I suppose you're feeling quite hungry about now."
Elizabeth's dry, cracked lips smacked together as she was reminded of her empty stomach.
"This is what your body needs." He told her, motioning to his left.
There was a beautiful, expensive looking dresser next to him with a silver tray sat on top, displaying a wine glass filled with thick, red liquid.
With one inhale, it was all Elizabeth could smell. She licked her lips in anticipation, her hands releasing the candlestick.
"Drink, my dear. You'll feel better, I can promise you that." Finley's brassy voice said.
Elizabeth had barely heard it, though. Her eyes were fixed on the glass and her brain was too busy enjoying what her nose was smelling to pay attention.
Her feet moved without her telling them to, straight towards the man before her and the glass she was so focused on.
With a rat-like hand, Mister Finley grasped the stem of the wine glass and held out to her.
As soon as Elizabeth took the glass, it was at her lips.
The blood she'd tasted when she pricked her finger with a sewing needle by accident as a child tasted nothing like what she was tasting in that moment.
It was cold and velvety, coating her throat like silk. Before, the metallic taste of blood was repulsive to her, but this? This was different. It was more than a craving, it was pure, unadulterated need.
The feeling didn't last long, however. It was vastly over-powered by an agonising sensation in her gums. The glass slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor was what fully brought Elizabeth out of her daze.
Her right hand cupped her mouth as she cried out, falling to her knees.
"Don't panic, darling. This is just part of the process. It will only hurt for a little while." Finley reassured her, crouching down next to her with a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"What's happening to me?" Elizabeth whimpered.
"See for yourself." Finley replied, helping her to her feet so that she could see herself in the mirror above the dresser.
Elizabeth gazed into the glass in awe at the sight of two bright white, sharp fangs where her usually flat canines had previously been. Her usual light blue eyes had darkened like a deep ocean, accentuated by her porcelain skin and red wine coloured hair.
"I'm a monster..." She breathed.
"Not if you don't want to be." Finley smirked. "The things you hunt are past the stage of no return. Stages two and three, I call them. They are the monsters. You are what they could have been before their bloodlust took them. I can teach you to control it. You don't have to be like them."
Elizabeth frowned, mentally thanking whoever that the pain in her gums had subsided.
"My father always said there wasn't any other kind of Vampire - that they were all monsters."
Finley sighed deeply, walking further into the room.
"Your father was wrong. Just like so many other Hunters before him."
"Why did you turn me?" Elizabeth asked.
Finley turned back around to face her, his half smile decorating his face nicely.
"Would it be too forward of me to say that I miss having company?" He countered.
"I think turning me without my consent was too forward, Mister Finley. So I believe we're a little past all of that." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.
"Touché, my dear." He chuckled with a shake of his head.