A/N - OK, despite stating in my profile that I would not attempt a Supernatural fic, I could not resist. This is just the start, introducing my idea so it doesn't feature the Winchesters yet but they will certainly appear in the next installment. Hope you like it enough to want to read the next part which I hope will be written and published sometime tomorrow.

Also if the mythology is wrong at any point during this fic just call it artistic licence - I'm no occultist, just a Supernatural fan with a random imagination!

Prologue.

The late night bar was nothing out of the ordinary but filled the senses just the same. As the familiar scent of beer met her nose, her ears registered the sound of jolly, alcohol fuelled banter whilst her eyes scanned the random mix of clientele. A group of bikers shooting pool, a handful of businessmen laughing raucously at a colleagues less than successful attempt to secure the bartenders cell phone number and the odd lone drinkers, propping up the bar.

One such drinker in particular caught her eye. His shoulders hunched the hood of his faded green NYU sweatshirt ruffled and a full shot glass in his hand. She watched as he cast a glance towards the group of overly intoxicated businessmen, his eyes wore the look of sadness and self torture she had become all too familiar with. He focused his attention back on the drink in his hand before tipping his head back slightly and downing it in one gulp.

'Get you the next one?' she asked, slipping onto the bar stool beside him as he placed the empty glass down clumsily. The clunk of glass against wood suggested he did not really need another, had quite clearly had enough.

He looked her up and down, a flirty smile creeping across his face. 'I won't say no. What's a pretty girl like you doing alone in a place like this?'

The unoriginality of his chat up line and the slurring of his words suggested he was either out of practice when trying to seduce women or had never really been much of a womaniser either way. She smiled sweetly at him and rolled her eyes, jovially.

'I don't know, what brings you here?' she leaned forward enough to make sure his attention remained with her, even if his eyes were focused slightly further south than her face.

'Looking for something, I guess,' he shrugged turning his head slightly to acknowledge the bartender as she placed another shot glass in front of him.

'That's specific,' she smiled again, holding his gaze long enough to give him the confidence to continue in his flirtation.

'Maybe I'm looking for you,' he said, a flicker of something passed across his face as though he were surprised by his own boldness. Surprised or maybe afraid.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled coyly at him as though his words had had an affect on her. Gently, she placed her hand on his thigh, not so far up that it would distract him completely but far enough to imply other intentions. He looked down at her hand for a moment or two before turning back to his drink and throwing it down his throat more forcefully than before, perhaps out of eagerness, nervousness or just simply drunken clumsiness.

'Oh, you missed a bit,' he hadn't but he wasn't in any state to doubt her. She leaned closer still and rubbed her forefinger gently against the corner of his mouth, catching a drop of alcohol that wasn't there. Judging by the way his pupils dilated slightly, he was taken in.

'Yeah, I'm definitely looking for you,' he said, almost in a whisper before leaning forward quickly and pressing his lips desperately against hers.

She returned the kiss briefly before pulling away and taking his right hand and gently lifting it up, tilting it slightly so his wedding band glinted in the dim overhead lights above the bar. He glanced at it guiltily and the confidence he had shown visibly disappeared.

'You're not looking for me, honey,' she said gently a small, compassionate smile on her face.

'I know,' he said, the sadness evident in his eyes. 'But neither is she.'

'Doesn't mean she isn't thinking about you, wondering where you are,' she suggested, lowering his hand to his knee and placing hers on top.

He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled a short, bitter laugh.

'I doubt that.'

'Why would you say that?' she asked, stroking his fingers comfortingly.

'I used to be like those guys over there,' he jerked his head in the direction of the businessmen. 'But then I lost my job, our house is in foreclosure and I can feel her just slipping away.'

She did not react as tears welled in his eyes and he choked back a sob. She had seen men in this state enough times, it did not faze her. It was an expectation of her…influence. He trusted her and all it had taken was one kiss.

'Do you love your wife?' she asked, plainly.

His shining eyes lifted to look at her. He nodded.

'Then go home, tell her and don't let anything come between you.'

She watched as the expression of revived hope and renewed confidence dressed his face. He nodded, wiped away the single stray tear that had managed to escape and stood up. Hesitating for a moment he looked down at her.

'Go!' she said with encouraging firmness.

He threw a half smile at her, dashed a small kiss upon her cheek and left the bar. She sighed contentedly. He was a decent guy, just needed a push in the right direction and she was more than happy to provide it.

* * *

The street was alive with noise and chaos. Sirens blared quietly in the distance as well as right by the houses. Curious neighbours stole fearful glances from behind their curtains, those who felt braver ventured onto the front lawns to see what was happening.

'Drop your weapon and hold up both of your hands,' a police officer called, calmly and firmly although the faint tremor of trepidation could be detected. His hands adjusted on the pistol which aimed at the man in the doorway.

'Please help me!' the strangled cry came from the woman held tightly by the suspect, one arm around her neck. In his other hand he brandished a long bladed knife.

'Come on, son, it's better for everyone if you let her go,' the police officer called out, attempting to negotiate.

It was difficult as his eyes kept flickering to the lifeless bludgeoned body of the man lying on the grass. From the limited information he had received, and the use of his own intuition, it appeared the suspect had returned home to find his wife in bed with another man and had subsequently attacked in what could only have been a frenzied rage. Now it appeared, he intended the same fate for his spouse.

'Please let me go,' the woman begged again.

'I can't,' he said calmly before plunging the knife into her throat. 'I can't let anything come between us.'

The officer fired and fired. Each shot of the bullet echoed in his ears as he watched his target drop to his knees, blood soaking the green sweatshirt he wore, turning it an unpleasant shade of brown.

A/N - if this was a Supernatural episode the title would explode on screen right now but it's not, sadly, but I hope it still interested you and thankyou for taking the time to read this little ramble!