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Language:
English
Series:
Part 42 of Supernatural Imagines
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Published:
2015-04-09
Words:
1,688
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1/1
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1
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46
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Kitsune

Summary:

Based off a tumblr post: http://tmblr.co/ZIK8Pv_q0TGc

Imagine being the monster that is being hunted by the Winchesters.

Living as a monster undercover can be hard, until the Winchesters show up and make your life hell.

Notes:

Thanks to (Best Beta in The World) Jessabelle!!!

Work Text:

When she saw him time slowed to a stop. He was so perfect and she knew her life would never be the same because she had finally found him.

The one. The first boy she would ever kill.

He glowed like a Greek God come to earth. All the sounds around her disappeared as she stared in disbelief. Her family told her this moment would come but she never knew it would feel this way. Growing up knowing that she is a monster was hard, being surrounded by humans all of them coddled and weak, food for her kind. Filled with the delicious tasting blood and meat. It made her seethe with a bitter rage. All of them were prey; she was the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her mother and grandmother told her stories of feeding on humans, of the story of the trickster fox spirits who lured men to their deaths. The story of her grandmother’s first kill made everything in her body yearn for it.

‘A kitsune is something to be feared.’ Her grandmother told her, ‘We are strong and fearsome, love.’

Killing him would be hard but she could do it. He would fight tooth and nail to live but everything in her body told her that he was no match for her. She would feel the rattle of death in his lungs and all the fight in his body leaving him. It made a power surge in her core. She grinned like an idiot and felt her body break out in an excited sweat. She ran her fingers over the thick business card that read Agent Samuel Smith, reading the words gave an extra boost to her already system that was wound tightly it almost hurt.

Thick brown hair and a face that was made for the movies. His body was built like a brick house and had shoulders like a lumberjack. He was tall, really tall, enough so that he had to duck to get into a room to avoid hitting his head. She watched him from behind her desk as he laughed and smiled at the other man he was with as they waited to be greeted by her boss, a swarthy man with a thick head of black hair and gleaming gold eyes. She was nothing more than a temporary secretary but he treated her fairly. They were speaking low and looking around. Both men dressed in suits and ties, they looked more like models than federal agents. But they weren’t federal agents, they were hunters and they were looking for her and her family.

Her blood was pumping in her veins with anticipation. She followed him around the office with her eyes and chewed her lip. Before he could leave, she faked illness claiming bad sushi even though she never touched the stuff in her life. The idea of eating that turned her stomach. She waited outside the building in the shadows that the winter provided her.

She watched as the men moved with confident strides towards their car. They stopped and spoke of strange deaths and missing organs from bodies.

A sick grin slicked her lips, if only they knew the truth.

She followed them and watched carefully through the window of their cheap motel room. Both men seemed at ease, if only they knew what was waiting for them in the dark. She needed to get him alone. Then it struck her, ‘she could get him alone by playing a victim.’ She had received a card with his number on it after all.

Back at her apartment, she trashed the place. Throwing things to the floor, breaking lamps and the coffee table. She went as far as to slice her arms with her own embedded claws.

She smeared the blood on different surfaces. She ripped up her clothing and messed her hair to look like she had been attacked. She dialed the phone with trembling fingers. The scene was set and he would be there soon. She cried and pleaded for him to come with a voice that was shaking, not from fear as she made it sound but excitement instead. He promised to be there soon and she added a sob with the words “please hurry.”

He showed up quickly in jeans, a grey shirt and a heavy olive green jacket. He stepped in the place and examined the small details she had created. He grabbed her arms and looked at the wound, his face scrunched up.

“You need to see a doctor.” he said, then rushed to the kitchen. He brought back rags and wrapped them over the slashes. He told her to hold them in place then made sure the place was empty. Her legs were shaking and her guts bubbled as she watched the vein in his neck pulsate.

“What happened?” he asked her with a rough voice. His forehead creased and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Nothing, yet.” She grinned as she locked the front door. The hunter spun around and looked a little shocked. Her body flung at him like a cord had ripped her from the ground to him.

With an unbelievable amount of strength, she took him down. He kicked her off his body and rolled to his knees. She was up with gleaming cat’s eyes and elongated sharp teeth.
As her fingers splayed wide her nails and became weapons that stretched long and black with swirls of white, crimson and orange embedded deep in the tissue. She let out a feral hiss and widened her stance. The hunter pulled a long knife out that had been concealed in his jacket. He held it upright then switched the direction of the blade allowing him to swipe at her easily. The blade gleamed in the low light of the room, silver metal shining like a shooting star across the black canvas of the dark.

“Always avoid silver, child.” Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her head, “It’s fatal to our kind. One touch will burn and poison your blood.”

She leaped for him and swiped at his chest, ruby red blood poured from the long gash in his chest. He reacted by taking a swing at her with his knife. The blade sang in the air with a hiss and missed her by inches. She kicked the knife away from his hand and sent it clattering to the floor. She dropped her feet down and grounded herself to the ground.

She swung at him again with her claws out. He let out as a groan as she sliced at him again. This time connecting with his face.

Her blood was pumping and burning in her veins. The fight was tougher than she thought it would be, but this was just the foreplay for the kill. He was prepared to kill her but she wasn’t dying tonight. The hunter pulled out a gun and she tried disarmed him, but before the gun could slip from his grip, he fired a shot into her body. She felt the burn and sting of the bullet inside of her. Every inch of her recoiled in pain and something in her head told her it wasn’t just a bullet but a silver bullet. Feeling the bullet rip through her stomach she let out a deep bellow that felt like she was screaming to the gods.

She didn’t stop; she lunged at him and slammed him to the ground with a hard and heavy thunk.

All the power of the kitsune was surging through her body, her eyes burned a bright hot golden color with slits of black pupils and her body thrummed. Her fingers curled around his throat. The hunter made a wet gurgling sound then a sharp wheeze filled her ears like a symphony. She grinned at him and pressed harder against his windpipe. His eyes shut as tears streamed down his smooth tan skin. He pried at her wrists. She let out a groan as her nails extended painfully longer trying to find the sweet spot at the base of his skill but she was weakening from the wound to her stomach.

“Hey fox face!” a deep voice howled out from behind her. She turned her face in time to get a fist to her jaw that rocked her off her victim. She yowled out in pain and sprung to her feet. She took a swipe at the other man, another hunter with cropped hair, chiseled jaw and glass green eyes that gleamed in the low light. He jumped back avoiding her talons. He kicked her in the side and she stumbled back. Her body was weakening faster than she expected as the silver mixed with her blood and coursed through her veins.

“Not today, bitch!” Her target growled as he stood behind her. A strong set of arms wrapped around her chest. She struggled against the arm and tried to drop down to the floor but he had her.

The other man looked like her one time target but with shorter hair. His face made her enraged. He pulled a knife from the sheath that hung from his belt. It was long and thin with a pointed end. It was gleaming a hot white color that warned of silver and made her shiver like true death was breathing down her neck. “Why Sam?” the other man snarled at her

“It just had to be him.” She growled and struggled a little harder. She was too weak to escape. Her legs were shaking and everything had a pale glow around it. The man stepped forward and rammed the point into her skin. She felt the tearing of tissue and the painful ice rolling through her body. She let out a cry and stared up at his face. He sneered as he turned the blade then retracted the knife.

Everything inside her body stopped. The last seconds of consciousness was filled with agony as she hit the floor and gasped for air. The pain evaporated but something insidious slipped under her skin, the darkness washed over and took the last breath from her lungs.

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