Photographs & Gasoline

Lexanna Raen was born into a normal family - a normal family, that is, until the death of her mother leads her father back into a dark life he never thought he would have to return to. Moving around throughout her entire adolescence was normal to her, but watching her father being murdered by an unnameable creature from hell was definitely not. With new knowledge of who her father was, and who her siblings were raised to be, Lexanna sets off on a journey to find the supernatural creature that murdered her father and return the favor. However, she's not the only "Hunter" out there. Though she had knowledge of the infamous Winchester family, she never thought she would come across them. Until she did, of course, and then there was no going back. Now traveling with Sam and Dean Winchester; Lex must struggle to keep the secrets of her horrific past in the dark.


3. Medication

I began to shift as I regained consciousness. I could hear voices in the background and I was thankful that they weren't the voices in my head. Rather than hearing simply their pitches, I could hear their words as well. The owners of the voices must have noticed my movements because I could hear shuffling enclosing on me in addition to the vibration of their footsteps on the floorboards. My head was throbbing with pain. I could feel sharpness on the side of my skull. I started to open my eyes, but when I was overwhelmed with dizziness, I snapped them shut.

"Is she dead?" asked the shaking voice of a young girl.

"No, Tyler, she's not dead," said another, matured female voice. "Go back to your room, okay? Let the grownups handle this."

There was a sigh of protest and footsteps exiting the room. With one less member, the others moved in closer—so close that I could feel their breath on my face.

"Ma'am, are you all right?"

"Oh, God, I hope she's okay. I thought she might be dead. So many strange things have been happening around here."

"She's definitely alive."

"She doesn't really look it."


"What? Don't give me that look."

I made another attempt to open my eyes. When I finally managed to, the light rapidly flooded into my corneas, causing me to squint. I held my hand above my face to shield myself from the light. I waited until they adjusted to the sudden brightness to study the faces. My vision was still clearing out, but there were two faces I knew—Susan and Sherwin's. I moved my eyes to the left side of my body, where there were two men I didn't recognize. One was tall and brunette and the other was shorter with dirty blond hair. The four of them were staring at me intently, which was beginning to make me uncomfortable.

"Are you all right?" the brunette male asked in a soft, lulling voice.

I looked up to him and then sat up slowly. My hand flew to my head when it began to radiate pain across my entire skull. The two men leaned down, helping me to sit up. I looked between their faces and swallowed hard. "What happened?" I asked hoarsely.

"It looks like you were having some trouble and you hit your head on the dresser," the taller of the two men said. "How did it fall over, anyway?"

I looked over to the dresser, which had since been lifted and put back into place. I knew what happened—I remembered it clearly, but I didn't want these people to think I was a complete lunatic. "I don't remember," I lied. "I just remember feeling dizzy and then everything went black."

"It seems like you're okay now," he said, looking me over. "Though, I think we should call the paramedics so that they can look you over, just to be sure."

"No," I said quickly. "That won't be necessary."

"You hit your head pretty hard…"

"I'm okay," I insisted. I started to stand up, but my knees buckled. I began to fall back to the floor when the dirty blond man caught me. He stood me straight but kept his arm around me for support.

Susan looked at us before taking a few steps back. "I'm going to go check on Tyler. Sherwin, can you get Miss Kelly some ice?"

"Of course, ma'am," he replied, following her out the door.

I looked between the men, feeling extremely nervous to be alone with them. I was on edge and ready to strike at any given moment necessary. The one supporting me jerked me towards the bed, which caused me to stumble over my feet. I glared up at him and shoved him off of me. Despite being unstable, I slowly made my way to the bed and sat down. The men stood in their spots, staring at me, shifting their weight.

I looked between the two of them with squinted eyes. "You don't have to stay. I'm fine now and, honestly, you're making this a lot more awkward than this needs to be."

"Oh, right," the brunette said. They began to turn but noticed my bottle of pills on the floor. The one with dirty blond hair squatted down and picked it up, studying the label.

I gritted my teeth. My attempt at convincing these people that I wasn't a lunatic was already a bust. I stood up, marching over to the man and held my hand out, waiting for him to give me the bottle back.

He ignored my hand. "'Zyprexa,'" he said, rolling it between his fingers, "generically known as 'Olanzapine' prescribed to Ashley Heim." He then looked to me and flashed me a smile. "Didn't Susan Thompson jut refer to you as 'Miss Kelly'?"

"The name on the bottle isn't the same name I was referred to, so what? What does it matter to you?" I asked and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I'm just wondering who you really are."

"Wouldn't you just love to know?" I growled at him, snatching the bottle from his hand. "You can kindly leave now."

"That's an illegal thing you're doing, you know."

"Thanks for the lecture, Dad. I'll be a good girl next time."

The brunette glared at his counterpart and stepped in front of him, giving me a polite smile. "Sorry about that, my brother can be a bit of a jerk sometimes," he said. "I'm Sam; this is Dean. We're here antiquing."

I took a step back, looking at them. I knew their names and I knew their purpose. They were Winchester brothers, sons of John Winchester; a family of well-known 'Hunters' of the supernatural. I wasn't going to let them know I knew them for fear that they would know me. "Fascinating," I said in an uninterested tone. "Why don't you go and do that?"

Sam frowned over to Dean and sighed, nudging him as he turned around. Dean, however, stared at me, looking vaguely interested. He took a step forward, flashing a charming smile. "I'm also a licensed paramedic," he lied through his teeth. "So, why don't I give you my number, and you can call me if there's any more trouble?"

"Not on your life."

He looked taken aback for a moment. He then nodded and took a step back. "I get it," he said. "I'll go."

"Well, it's about time," I said.

His jaw tightened and then he turned away with Sam and led him out of the room.

I watched their backs and rolled my eyes when they were gone. I walked over and shut the door behind him. I returned to the bed and looked down to the pill bottle with a quiet sigh. I opened the bottle, took one of the pills out, and forced it down my throat. I then lay back on the bed and closed my eyes tightly.

I was tired of the voices—tired of the nightmares, but nothing would stop them. No amount pills or therapy has ever been enough, and I wasn't exactly expecting things to change. I felt trapped—I felt like a complete nut-job. I didn't want to feel that way anymore.

At some point of lying on the bed and contemplating my life, I was overcome with exhaustion and succumbed into slumber.


It was black here—as black as black could possibly be. There was nothing around me. I was standing in the middle of nothingness—in the middle of the oblivion. My body didn't feel cold, but there was a white cloud of breath escaping from my lips. I looked back and forth, but I continued to see nothing. What kind of a dream was this? I couldn't make sense of what was happening. My dreams—or rather nightmares—were always racy and filled with quickly passing images, but this was, quite literally, nothing.

I took a step forward and saw the shape of a body appear in the distance when I did. It was so far that I couldn't tell who is could possibly be. I started walking forward and so did the body across the way. We were drawing closer to one another, but it was a slow process. In hopes that I could quicken our meeting, I began to run and so did the other. I ran and ran and ran until I smacked into an invisible barrier. I stood up and there he was—staring back at me—my father. I took another step forward. I was so close to the barrier that I could feel my breath bouncing back into my face.

I looked into his brown eyes and felt my heart sinking. He was wearing the same outfit he had the day of his murder. Why couldn't I escape this image? Why did I continue to see him? I wanted it to stop, but I wouldn't—it never did.

My father looked back at me. He began to shake his head and I felt my heart sinking even further. "Why?" he asked. "Why did you let this happen?"

"I'm so sorry," I said, reaching forward to press my palm to the barrier between us. "I'm so sorry for what happened."

"You didn't do anything," he said. "You watched me die."

"Dad, I'm sorry," I said desperately. "I tried to help you, but I couldn't. I couldn't move. I don't know what happened."

"You let me die."

"I didn't mean to. I couldn't move. I didn't know what that thing was. What could I have done, Dad?"

"You could have saved my life."

"I'm sorry!"

"How could you do that to me, Lexi? How could you let your own father die?"

I shook my head, speechlessly. I didn't know what to say—I didn't know what else to tell him. I just stared at him, my palm pressed hard against the barrier. He shook his head disapprovingly and turned his back. He began to walk away from him.

"Dad!" I called out. I began to pound my fists on the barrier in attempts to break through and reach him. "Dad, don't go!" I cried desperately. "Daddy, please!"

"It's your fault, Lexiloo," said his voice in my ear. "You stood and watched me die. You did this."

I clamped my hands down on my ears, watching my father's figure disappearing into the darkness. "I'm sorry!" I shouted to his back. "I'm sorry for what I did!"

I began to hear voices calling my name. I cringed at the sound. I hadn't heard my name in so long, and I was hoping to never hear it again, but now it was circling me. There was nothing but 'Lexanna' over and over and over again.


I startled awake, once again drenched in my own sweat. I sat up and noticed lights flashing outside of my window. I stood up and pulled the curtains back to see a coroner's van, a police cruiser, and Susan giving a statement. I furrowed my eyebrows and immediately jogged downstairs. I went out the door to run into Dean's back. He turned and looked back to me, rolling his eyes. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

"I have no interest in you," I grumbled at him. "I just want to know what's going on. Did something happen?"

"Would there be police and the coroner and something hadn't happened?"

"Okay, smart ass."

He chuckled under his breath and looked up when Susan turned around. "What happened?" he asked, shoving himself in front of me.

I glared at his back and moved to stand next to him, look to Susan for an answer.

"The maid went into his room to change the sheets and she found him hanging from the ceiling fan."

"That's horrible," I said with a glance to the coroner's van.

"He was a guest?" Dean asked.

"He was with the company that bought the hotel. You know, I just don't understand what's been going on around here. So many strange things have been happening, one after another. It's like we're cursed or something," she laughed uncomfortably.

"Huh," Dean nodded.

"If you guys want to check out, I'll give you both full refunds."

"No thanks," I said.

"Yeah, I don't scare that easy," Dean added.

Susan nodded and gave us both a polite smile. She moved around us and headed back to the hotel. She was scared and nervous of what was happening in her hotel, and I began to wonder if there was something happening here.

Dean turned around and began to head up the stairs. I followed him, glancing around. "Is there something going on here that you know about and no one else does?" I asked him.

He turned around and narrowed his eyes at me. "Why are you asking me?"

"You seem invested," I said. "I just want to know if there's something going on."

"No," he said, turning back. "Besides, how would I know? I'm just here to look for some antiques."

"Right," I said sarcastically, watching him ascend the stairs.

I stopped in my tracks and sat down on a step. I had a strange feeling about this place—as if there was something supernatural happening here. "Well," I said to myself. "It's time to gear-up, Lex, because it looks like there's a hunt."

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