Hi guys!

Now I know there is an abundance of supernatural stories on here, but I started the series this year, and of course I adore it.

Which is why I had to write something, anything, just to get rid of the craving. So here is my Supernatural fanfic!

Not gonna lie, I'm a definite Dean girl, I love the guy. So this fic is focused on Dean, but I'm hoping to not eclipse the other characters because of this, because I love Sammy and Cas too, obviously. So they will definitley not be minor rolls in this, and they will appear frequently with their own little side stories/agendas.

This is gonna be a long one guys, and I hope I avoid unnecessary fillers/chapters, and I truly welcome any criticism, be it constructive or positive, so don't be shy. If you feel like I'm not writing the guys true to style let me know, I want to capture their personalities as much as possible.

One last thing, the fic is set sort of in season 8, but look at it in a way that's like a seperate series. Like series 8.5, it's its own story, just set at that time in their lives, as I dont just want to inject the OC into the story that supernatural already has and just have her say a few lines that make her relevant.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Prologue:

The light burns.

It's so fierce that for a second I fear that if I open my eyes, the organs will burn right out of my head.

How long has it been? How many years have passed now?

Too many. Far too many.

I open my eyes slowly, vision returning in a hazy mess, piecing together bit by bit as it pierces the veil of darkness that's been my home for God knows how long. Alongside the half assed return of sight, feeling crawls through my limbs at an agonisingly slow pace, parts of my body being freed as the seconds tick by. Pins and needles announce themselves across my arms, through my legs, a ferocious burn that chips away whatever it is that's encased me.

I flex my fingers experimentally, objects in my field of vision becoming clearer and clearer. Raising one hand, I squint, not sure what to expect. When flesh – albeit pale from lack of exposure to the sun for so long – greets my eyes, I smile, teeth throbbing in unison with my restarted heartbeat. The darkness inside stretches, yawning, awakening from its slumber.

As expected, as soon as I relax inky black tendrils begin to swirl into appearance across my skin, smoke rising as it consumes my hands, claws extending without prompting. Like onyx stone, they're a sight for sore eyes, and the inner monster purrs with approval as I allow it a bit of leg room, speaking metaphorically. The darkness is like a deadly glove, and it writhes its way up my forearm, stopping short of my elbow.

It's only when the silence – unnoticed before – becomes deafening that I bother to look up, finally acknowledging those who have come to undoubtedly enslave me.

Who is it this time? A high level demon, maybe?

They'd have to be strong, that's for sure. Strong enough to invoke the curse. Only the harshest of sacrifices can release the bonds that bind me here. Wherever here is.

Wide eyes meet my own, half a dozen women staring up at me on my pedestal, mouths ajar. Some look terrified, those standing further back, and others look excited, the one in the front clutching the one thing that will dictate how this situation we've got ourselves into plays out. I narrow my eyes at them, taking in their distressed states. They look a little worse for wear, but not very threatening.

So it's definitely a surprise when a knife thuds into my shoulder, penetrating deep enough to have me wincing. None of the women threw it, so it looks like we have even more company.

I raise a brow, eyeing the dagger as I pull it out of my flesh. The slight sting is barely noticeable as the wound begins to knit itself back together, and the blade itself, despite being coated in my blood has an intricate design carved into its sides. Something recognisable, although I can't quite place it.

Three men stand to the right of the women a little ways off, and by their equally agitated postures I gather that they're not with the women, at least, not in a friendly way.

It's almost comical the way they're eyes widen as my gaze settles on them, their bodies tensing as one. The one in front has his arms spread out across the other two, almost as if he's protecting them.

Cute.

"Dean!" The long haired, tall one in the back snaps, and the one in front reacts, eyes flickering to him before settling on me again.

"What?! I was aiming for her heart, sue me for trying."

Long haired shakes his head, and I smile slowly, canines lengthening considerably. All three stiffen in response.

"Kill him, kill Dean Winchester! Kill them all!"

The shrill voice comes from the woman in front from earlier, still clutching the object. Blood runs from an open wound on her lip, and the smell hits me as she's draws my attention.

It's like being doused in gasoline, the smell of tainted blood, oh so recognisable.

"Witch!" I spit, baring my teeth.

She definitely doesn't expect that, her frame positively shrinking as I turn towards her, but her momentary shock is quickly replaced by determination.

"Sadie, no-"

She shrugs off the arm of one of the women behind her, standing straight, eyes focused solely on mine as her mouth sets. Brave.

Dumb.

Sadie, if that's her name, thrusts the object from earlier forwards, presenting it to me.

"You have to do what I say, right," She pants, and I glare at the only thing that controls everything I do.

The moment she shoves the ring onto her finger, it changes everything. My fate is temporarily sealed, and the rings glows, the writing engraved across its sides burning bright, branding her finger and my own.

She collapses, a low, keening sound escaping her lips as she does, clutching her hand. It starts before I can stop it, and the sick feeling of the loss of control, the loss of free will crawls across my skin as muscles involuntarily clamp down on bone.

Breathing hard, the shimmer crosses over my vision and Sadie is hauled up by the others.

"What have you done? The sisters, the others will be furious! You've wasted-"

Sadie shakes her head, pushing away from them before pointing at Dean, the man in front. His eyes widen in response, mouth falling open.

"Kill him."

This time the command is succinct, absolute. I turn away from her, eyeing the one who will die as a haze of red descends through my thoughts, coating them in the urge to kill, to maim.

"Kill them all."

The outcome is set as I focus on the one man, ignoring her second command - I can practically feel death purring over my shoulder.

"Time to go, Cas," Dean grunts, and the other man behind him nods.

I open my mouth, eyes narrowed, claws itching to slice as the dark haired man places a hand on the two other guys shoulders.

They disappear.

Poof.

Gone.

The momentary confusion is distracting enough that I barley have time to catch their scents, but I breathe in greedily, locking the distinct smells into memory.

"No! You- I said- You have to kill them! I ordered you to do it, do it now," Sadie hisses, and God, her voice is annoying.

I roll my neck, flexing my jaw.

Now that the drama is over, I finally acknowledge where the hell I am, and from what I can tell I'm in some underground crypt. The men must've teleported somewhere up above, which is stating the obvious, but I'm still not exactly sure how in the hell they managed to do that.

I hop down from the altar, some weird stone pillar that's covered in so much dust and dirt that I sure as hell don't want to know what entombed me here.

Knowing the previous owner of the ring, the spell encased me in stone, which is why I'm probably stowed away here. And it also explains why my mouth is dry as fuck.

"Are you – Hell, are you even listening?"

I exhale through my nose, closing my eyes for a moment. Although she now controls me, it doesn't mean that I have to like her.

"They will die," I say. She stumbles back, mouth flopping open as I turn to face her, jaw tight.

"When?"

"Whenever I get around to doing it."

She doesn't like that, oh no, she really doesn't. Her friends react too, anger contorting their features.

"We control you," the one who grabbed Sadie's arm earlier snarls, and she too is bleeding, a gash across her forehead that's running quite freely. I watch the blood trail, "You have to do what we say."

I incline my head, "True."

"So, despite Sadie wasting our first command, you have to do it."

I nod, eyes meeting her own. They're dilated, her fear palpable, "Yes, but you did not specify when."

"Immediately," Sadie hisses, "Kill them. Do it now!"

I smile, ducking my head, "Oh, sweetheart," I tut, "Looks like you didn't read the instruction manual. One command at a time, and the specifics have to be said 'immediately'," I mimic, rolling my eyes.

"Well…" Sadie looks absolutely distraught, and I love it, "When will you do it?"

Rather than drag this out, I level my gaze on her. Her eyes are pitiful, so full of tears; they're red and blotchy, the colour emphasising the grey tones, "Soon. Very soon. I need information first to track them," I walk over to the spot they were standing, not surprised to find no trace of their presence, "Considering they vanished into thin air."

Mollified, the two outspoken ones nod, although they look far from happy.

"I can assure you," I say, turning to them.

They straighten in response.

"Dean Winchester will die."