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Free Supernatural Fanfiction – Chapter Summary:

A tense hunt turns chaotic when a demon and a djinn collide—leaving one hunter marked by deadly touch.

Rating: PG-13
Contains:   For supernatural violence, peril, and brief intense imagery

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT:  
A Slight Complication

WE SPENT THE NIGHT at the abandoned warehouse. I would’ve much rather slept in the truck; at least I would’ve had less of a chance of a rodent scurrying over me while I tried to sleep.

Sam called the next day while we were preparing our arsenal—silver knives dipped in lamb’s blood. The auction house had been vandalized. Contrary to what Sera had said on the phone, Sera’s mother was shaken but not seriously injured, only sustaining some minor cuts and bruises from a scuffle. Fortunately, Sera had been out of town procuring items for the auction house, because the vandalism included anti-angel symbols—alongside others she didn’t recognize.

Sam said there was no clear indication that it was supernatural. Coincidence or not, Sera felt better after Sam checked the place out. Everything seemed fine. The symbols were a mixture of sources, so a targeted anti-angel attack seemed unlikely, according to Sam. Probably just some punks.

Sam asked if we needed him, but Dean told him to stay in New York for a few days to make sure things remained normal.

Dean’s shift in attitude surprised me. I wasn’t sure if it was because Sera was a Nephilim—her angelic powers offered some protection against supernatural threats. Maybe Dean just wanted Sam away from these mutant monsters. But I was still here, so that probably wasn’t it. More likely, Dean was focused on his father and the group of hunters we were staying with.

They were nice—rough around the edges, but that came with the hunter territory. It made me wonder if my own personality had hardened since meeting Sam and Dean. John and the other hunters hit it off immediately. They stayed up late swapping stories the night before, each trying to out-boast the others. I went to bed. Dealing with Lucifer was my most impressive “hunt,” but I didn’t want to get into that story.

AS THE SUN BEGAN TO SET, we moved into position. Everyone was on high alert. We didn’t know if the djinn would split up or attack together. If they split, they had a better chance of taking a few of us out.

We wore gloves and hats—not just for the cold, but to prevent skin contact. As long as they didn’t touch us, we’d be fine. I wanted to wear my scarf too, but it had vanished. I remembered wearing it into the warehouse, and then it was just… gone. We didn’t have time to dwell on it. If that rat took it…

Christian, John, Dean, and I came in from the west side of the city. Each of us had a street block to watch. I was closest to the city line. Dean was the next block over, followed by John and then Christian.

“You guys ready?” John asked as we reached the first area.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Dean said. He looked over at me. “Be careful.”

With a slight squeeze of my hand, he left me at my post and walked to his. John and Christian continued ahead.

I watched as the final rays of sunlight disappeared. The street was quiet. We’d seen a few people on the way over, but now it was deserted.

As I stood waiting, I sensed the familiar presence of a demon. It was close—strong enough that I could feel it from blocks away. If this hunt went well, maybe I could swing by and take care of it. It was powerful; that much was clear by the distance.

“Psst,” Dean mouthed. “What’s wrong?”

He must’ve noticed my focused gaze. I mouthed back: Demon. A few blocks away. I couldn’t see his reaction clearly, but I thought he said, “Great.”

I smiled faintly and kept scanning for the djinn. I’d never encountered one before, so I wasn’t sure how they’d feel to me. But nothing stirred nearby.

The demon began to move closer—slowly at first. Eventually, it got close enough for Dean to sense it. I saw him glance over from his intersection.

It was headed our way. We’d have to deal with it before the djinn showed up. I doubted they were working together. I hoped they weren’t. Just our luck—two types of monsters at once.

At least we had more experience with demons.

The demon picked up speed. It felt like it would appear near Dean’s post. I didn’t sense a soul nearby, but there still might be one. Sometimes they were faint from a distance. I stepped around the corner to see Dean better and get ready to help if need be.

Dean slipped his djinn knife into his pocket and pulled out the Ruby knife from inside his jacket. He looked at me, silently asking if I could feel a soul. I shook my head. No. Just a demon. He would have to take care of it. I couldn’t exorcise it from here.

Without warning, the demon lashed out. Dean flew backward, slamming into the wall. I threw my energy out to stop it. The demon felt me and glanced in my direction—just for a moment—before turning back to Dean.

Dean stood, but the demon was pressing its energy hard, pinning him against the wall. It didn’t advance. Rather than trying to kill us, it was toying with us.

I’d never seen a demon attack like this before.

It took another step toward Dean. I decided to use its own energy against it. I steadied myself and focused on repelling it. Hopefully, that would stun it long enough for Dean to strike.

I used its energy and some of mine to push back. The force lifted the demon into the air and slammed it against the opposite wall. I relaxed slightly as Dean stood. I felt shaky from the distance and the demon’s strength.

Then I felt something near me.

I turned—and faced a dark-haired woman with tattoos. Her eyes glowed blue. I didn’t even have time to think. Her hands were around my neck.

I was stunned.

A djinn.

She touched me.

She touched my skin.

As quickly as she grabbed me, she slumped over. Dean stood behind her, the knife dipped in lamb’s blood in his hand. He looked startled.

“Did she…?” He couldn’t finish the question.

As far as we knew, there was no cure for this kind of djinn. I wouldn’t sleep and burn with a fever like Dean had years ago. I’d remain awake—hallucinating nightmarish visions until I died.

I started to shake. “She touched me,” I muttered.

Footsteps pounded down the street. I jumped.

It was John.

“Hey!” he called. “What…?”

He stopped, taking in the scene.

Dean barely looked at him. “She touched her,” he whispered.

“What?” John asked, though I knew he’d heard.

“She touched her,” Dean said louder.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Dean barked. He looked at his father, then turned back to me. He placed his hands on my arms, steadying me. “How long?”

John sighed. “Probably twenty-four hours or less…”

Someone called John’s name from down the street.

“Take her back to the truck,” John said. “We’ll handle it from here.”

Dean nodded. As John jogged away, I swore he looked back—and smirked.

Image by Copilot

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