Wanted Dead or Alive | 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

PROLOGUE

[ 00 - PROLOGUE ]

― highway to hell ―

The brisk night air was chilling as it whipped across Meg Masters' face. The blustery wind was the only thing that seemed to be alive on the barren backroad, which was only fitting when taking into consideration the poignant reaper that lurked behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Meg snapped, sensing the reaper's presence before she'd even turned to face her. "I didn't summon you."

The fair-skinned reaper, known to a select few as 'Mara', sauntered forward until she stood only a couple feet away from one of the demons who controlled her. She eyed the crimson red ring Meg wore around her finger. She wanted more than anything to be able to rip the wretched thing off of her hand and throw it into the depths of an ocean, but she knew that could never happen. Azazel - Mara's overlord, per se - had gifted Meg that ring in response to her unceasing willingness to serve him. It granted her the shared power of control over Mara. To be able to summon her and order her to help with whatever was necessary to ensure the success of Azazel's plan. If Mara so much as brushed the tip of her pinky finger across the ring, she would be decimated, in direct accordance with how Azazel had designed her oppressing piece of jewelry.

The entire existence of the ring was appalling. Reapers weren't supposed to be controlled like a dog on a chain. They were the servants of death. It was their purpose to ferry souls to the afterlife where they belonged, and to remain neutral in the everlasting war between angels and demons. Mara felt sick to her stomach every time she was forced to help with the search for John Winchester and his children. It wasn't in her nature to do things like that.

"He let them go," Mara stated simply, referring to none other than the yellow-eyed demon she despised and the small group of hunters he was tracking down.

Meg twisted her beloved ring around her thin finger, and Mara winced at the sight of the demon's hand on it. Meg sighed as she hummed, "I noticed."

A pair of headlights appeared in the distance, almost blinding in contrast to the overwhelming darkness of the two women's surroundings. Meg's short, choppy hair was blown to the side as the speeding truck drove past.

"So is that it?" Mara questioned, allowing her hopes to get up in light of what had just occurred. "We're done? Has Azazel given up on the cause?"

A malicious grin crawled onto Meg's face as she turned her gaze to the reaper that stood beside her. "Sweetheart, we're not done until John Winchester is burning in hell."

Mara's lips turned down into a frown, and she felt her heart sink in her chest. She'd been hoping Azazel had dropped his search for the covert Winchesters. It would mean freedom for her - something she'd yearned for since she was torn away from her duties. It would mean John's sons could finally reunite with their father without having to constantly watch their backs for evil deities. Most of all, it would mean the heart-wrenching pain she felt would finally cease. She hated being forced to bow down to Meg and Azazel, and even though she knew she wasn't doing it of her own free will, she hated making herself an obstacle to the Winchester children. They were trying to make the world a better place, a task too daunting for a handful of mortals, and it wasn't equitable for Mara to stand in their way.

Mara's sorrowful influx of thoughts were interrupted when Meg huffed and said, "You're a reaper, Mara, not a human. So you might as well just give up on that humanity you're holding on to. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She paused, her flickering glance a cue for Mara to leave in her characteristic disappearing manner. "My ride is here."

With one last despairing look in the demon's direction, Mara vanished into thin air, and the hitchhiking woman whose every word she was bound to follow climbed aboard a van, her sole purpose committing an act that Mara could only describe as an atrocity.