A Scene inspired by Supernatural

writing

I am sure most of you will think this is fan fiction and guess what it is. I usually force myself to find my own story and really only be inspired by the television, movies or books I fall in love with. It has been a while though and I think it works best as fan fiction. If you don’t enjoy this little scene, I am sorry, I will go back to my poetry and original stories tomorrow. Today I am being a little fan girl.

Also if you are a fan of Supernatural reading this let me know what you think. I hope you are not expecting a script though, because script formatting is not how my brain thinks for the first draft on paper.

The scene opens with Sam and Dean standing in the bunker’s library area. Sam has an old book in his hand and there is a door drawn on one of the brick walls. Both of the boys are staring at the wall.

After a moment Dean states, “I thought you said it would work.”

Sam responses with, “Just give it a minute.”

As soon as Sam’s words are spoken there is a crash and burst off. The chalk door on the wall flashes like a bright strobe light three times and then all is dark again for split second. The lights come back on and there is a woman, almost as tall as the boys, clothed in every imaginable weapon. She has two large pistols drawn and pointed at the guys.

As soon as the three of them see each other, the woman swings around looking for any danger. When she sees all is  cleared she lowers her guns. “What the heck and how did you do that?”

Uncertain of what to say the two brothers look at each other before Sam answers, “We needed help and was actually thinking we would be summoning some one else.”

Sam’s remark noticeably offends the woman, “Of course you did.” She starts to point one of her pistols at Sam as she talks and tells him, “Well if you are all-powerful now, you can send me back, reverse your stupid summoning ritual. I have a vampire werewolf hybrid to kill.”

Dean smirks and says, “Hey lady, how about you calm down. We’re hunting the same thing. We should hunt it together.”

The woman now is pissed off, “Hey lady?”She starts to aggressively advance to Dean, “Hey lady?! Really Dean, do you want to be shot?”

Sam goes to his brother’s side and calmly tells her, “He meant nothing by it. We are just trying to hunt the same thing.”

Now both guns are pointed at the brothers, “Let me get this straight, you are hunting a vampire werewolf and decided not to call me on my phone to tell me that you now believe me. No, instead of admitting, once again that I was right, you decide,” She looks around to where she came from, “You decide to create a summoning door to summon someone else to hunt my monster?! Well, sorry if I am not happy when you two basically tell me I’m crazy and to go fight it myself then I get yanked back to the bunker when I am mid-fight.”

The two brothers stare at her as she waits for one of them to say something, anything. She waits to strike again. The boys just stand there confused, so she finally shouts, “Really. you’re going to just stand there and act dumb.”

“We’re not acting, so how about you put the guns down and explain from the top what you’re talking about.”

“Shove it, bitch.” The girl says and holsters her guns. She turns while walking towards the tables. The boys slowly follows. She sits on the table while the guys swing chairs around to sit down. She takes a deep breath. “Okay what were you actually summoning for?”

“Help, we need help with the vampire,” Sam started and corrected himself when he saw the woman’s clenched jaw, “with your monster.”

“And why didn’t you just call me, you knew I was on my way to fight it. Why didn’t you just let me in on your penis party?” The woman said and waited for a retort.

She childishly mouthed along with Dean, “It wasn’t a penis party.” Dean was a little taken back by her knowing what he would say. “Who are you?”

“Dean, now is not the time to play that game. You know ever since we were kids it was you two and dad training, while I was stuck with mom, grandpa and the books. Just answer my question. What happened to the phone saying, we’re idjits come back, so we can fight it together.”

Sam looked at her just as puzzled as Dean was. Sam asked her, “Who do you think we are?”

The woman who was not amused told them, “Seriously, I am not in the mood for games. If you made a summoning door just to grab me from a fight tell me and we’ll move on. I’ll moved out, but we’ll move on.”

The woman stood up and readied her self to leave or for one of the guys to stop her. It was Sam who spoke as she stood, “Our mom died when I was six months old.”

“Sammy, that is not funny.  You’re twisted.” She turned to walk out of the bunker, but before she could take a step she saw Castiel standing. “What?” She asked as she quickly rushed to take off her weapons. “How?” The sword that was hanging on her back was the first to leave her body, then the holsters with the two large guns, then the belt with assorted knives and two smaller guns. “I thought.” Next was the long sword that was around her waist along with the two sais that were strapped to her thighs. “We all thought you were.” She unwrapped throwing knives from her calves and then stood up. “There no more weapons.” She walked over to Castiel still rushed and without thinking hugged him tightly, “We all thought you were gone.”

When Castiel did not embrace her as tightly as she did, the woman pulled away. “Cas? What?”

“I am sorry, do I know you?”

The statement visibly hurt the woman. “Cas, look into my eyes and please tell me you know who I am?”

Castiel did as he was told, but could not lie. He could see that she wanted him to know who she was, but he did not, “I am sorry. I do not know who you are.”

“But you know them?”

Castiel nodded and the woman returned to her spot on the table severely defeated. “Guys, no joking, do you know who I am?”

Dean shook his head and Sam whispered, “No, do not.”

The woman kept her eyes down”Are you two the sons of John and Mary Winchester?”

Sam again answered for both of the brothers, “Yes.”

She looked up at Sam and asked, “Did you ever have a sister?”

“No, our mother died when I was six months old.”

With pain filled eyes she asked, “What killed her?”

Dean answered, “The yellow eyed demon.”

“The yellow eye demon? How dad tells.” She paused before correcting herself, “How my dad tells the story he was hardly a hunt. I mean it got Grandpa Samuel, but that was how dad told mom that he was a man of letters and how dad found out mom was a hunter. It was their first hunt together.”

“Your dad was a man of letters?” Sam asked.

“Your’s wasn’t?” She asked.

Sam told her, “Our grandfather, Henry, died before he could tell our dad. “

“Was it when he time traveled to the future to fight Abaddon?”

Dean looked at her, “How did you know?”

“Because you two jerks told me to wait in the car. You said it was too dangerous and you did not need me. I didn’t listen and killed that bitch. Grandpa went home and told dad to name me after him.”

Dean paused and asked”Wait what’s your name?”

“Henrietta.”

“How old are you?” Sam asked.

“27.”

Sam smiled and told Dean, “Mom lived for another four years.”

“My mom died 10 years ago. She lived until I was 17. “

Dean asked, “How?”

Henrietta answered, “Saving our lives.” She then looked straight into Castiel’s eyes and told him, “If you’re brother is pulling anything or playing with me in any way, I will kill him.”

Sam stood up from his chair and patted Henrietta  on the knee, “I could use some coffee before we go on this hunt. Heni do you want any.”

Dean looked at Sam a little confused. Henrietta also looked at Sam but she was a little taken back, “Did you just call me Heni?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that is your nickname for me.”

Dean laughed and asked, “Heni, like a chicken?”

Henrietta looked at Dean with a blank face and told him one word, “Don’t.”

“So, chicken do you want coffee.”

“You know it seems like so much is different but you are still a tool.” She shook her head with a slight smile and got up. “I think I’ll need something before this hunt.” As the four of them walked  towards the kitchen she mentioned, “We can figure out what’s what while we drink.”

Castiel made sure to walk next to Henrietta and asked, “Why did you take off all your weapons before hugging me.”

“My Cas doesn’t or well didn’t like weapons. He said he came to bring guidance not violence. You would still smite any one that needed it. Honestly I just think all those weapons made it uncomfortable to get close.”

With that they leave the library area of the bunker and go to the kitchen to drink coffee while they discuss their plans to hunt a vampire werewolf hybrid. They leave figuring out Henrietta until after the murderous monster is taken care of.

 I do have a whole detailed back story for Henrietta, but if you missed the major points; Henrietta is the boys’ sister from an alternate time line or universe. In her time line their mother fights the Yellowed eyed demon when she first meets him and kills him. He kills her father, but the demon brings her and John together. John knows about hunting and supernatural things because his father never died in the battle with Abbadon. Henrietta saved him and he was able to raise john as one of the last Men of letters, which helped him help Mary fight the Yellow eyed demon. 

John and Mary raised all three of their kids as hunters and men of letters. However, John was more protective of his little girl and tried to keep her in the bunker, which had been their home for most of their. Since their father was protective of the only girl in the family the brothers were also overly protective of her. Still she did train and was actually pushed to train harder than the guys, since she had something to prove. 

Okay I can go on and on about this character. I am liking her and keep trying to put her in a story of her own, but in my mind she is so tangled up in Supernatural that I can’t.

Any ways,  This is all I can do for tonight. If you ask I will explain more or write another short story about her, but for now it is off to bed for me.

 

200th post… celebration

encouragement

That quote seems to fit this moment. I just published my 200th blog post. It seems fitting to talk about the journey and how much I have changed in the 200 posts. I will try to make it interesting and not lame.  I am going to be going through the old posts that I made. Hopefully  I find a good sampling.

This blog started as an outlet for my reviews. I had an idea that I would watch and review over 300 movies. I mean I had reviewed a few movies for a class I had taken in college, so I should be able to right 300 hundred of them. I did give myself 6 years to complete it and I still have a few years before that is up. I still have the list, but my life will have to dramatically change to find time to write reviews.

I also started this blog, because I did not think I would have any other outlet for my love of movies and entertainment. I did not think a ‘real career’ in the entertainment industry was an attainable dream. Now, it may still be far off, but I don’t believe it is unattainable. It will take hard work, struggle, time and sacrifice, but I can do it. That is why I started to write the DreamWard Bound series. I honestly believe my creativity will one day be my only job.

Next, I added Story Time With Pink Sunshine. It was supposed to be short stories that could be transformed into chapters in a book. I did not get very far with that, though. It was a big story with lots of details to write. I still plan to tell this story. It will always be in my heart yearning to get out, but I will a solid amount of time to actually write it out.

It seems with the starting of Story Time I started to branch out with my creativity on this blog. I started to write poems,  updates, thoughts, and even a few short stories. It seems like once I gave myself freedom to do anything on this blog I did do anything. I have grown with this blog in my creativity and have changed my life, because a few people read my writings and my thoughts.

It may still be a small blog, but hey I wrote 200 posts and I am pretty sure each one was read by some one. I think that is enough minds touched to celebrate and change your life a bit for. So, thank you for taking this journey with me and if you want to compare my journey through my creativity I will leave you a few links that you can compare.

 

First poetry.

First Poem Post (Dream of plans)

Last Poem I posted (Poetry Of Words)

Short Stories

First One (My Testimony)

Last Short Story I Posted (Free Lobster)

Funny both are true stories

Review:

First (Amelie)

Last (Lost Colony)

Updates / talking about what was going on in my life

First (All My Projects)

Last (This Past week’s DreamWard Bound)

Okay I am done boring you with lists. Let me know what you think though. Can you see the change?

 

 

Poetry of Words.

poetry
Let me twist you
distort you
and make you my own.
I want to ring you out
and squeeze
every bit of meaning out.
Then I will fill you with flowers
and the sweet scent of love.
Once I dissect you
I will stitch you back together.
Once I know your insides
and can hold tight to your outsides,
then I will use you,
then I will love you dearly.
First,
Let me twist you
distort you
and make you my own.

Wow, that became a dark poem. I am talking about learning different words though, I swear. The you is a word. 

One More (A Goodnight Poem)

 

 

 

I know this is posting during the day, but I am writing it at night so bear with me or wait until it’s night to read it. 
poetry

Inspiration push
one more poem
one more rhyme
before my brain runs out of time.

Please shine your light
for one more minute
just for one more writing
so that I can call it a night

The day was long
yet I want just one more poem
pushing myself to meet my goal
of one more
because I always want one more.

So push on inspiration
come close muse of my mind
dance out one more poem
sing out one rhyme
until we are out of time.

Paradox of Life (poetic random thoughts)

writing

I love my life
yet I fight for it to change.
I work towards my dreams
that may force my loved ones away.
I am happy with myself
but am always changing.

It’s like
the night wishing to be the day,
sunshine wishing to be the rain,
the light wishing to be darkness.

I strive to change
when there is no need.
I work towards a new life
when my own is wonderful.
It must be how I am wired
always looking for better
when I already have greatness
searching for more love
when love is already overflowing
and looking for sunshine
when there is not a cloud in the day’s sky.

Yes, I love my life
yet I fight for it to change.
I work towards my dreams
that may force my loved ones away.
I am happy with myself
but am always changing.

This is what is going on in my head right now. It’s part wondering and part simply realizing, I have a good life, yet I still am looking for more. 

Past never my Future

writing

I can see what people search for when they find my blog, or what they search for to find my blog. Today I saw a very cool sentence that I am sure is from something, but I’m not sure what it is from. I am going to use it as a writing prompt for this post. The quote is. “you can only narrate my past but you can never write my future.” 

I hope you enjoy.

You can narrate my past.
Please do,
and tell me all the things I went through.
Speak the words that you believe
the words that will add up to my story.
How do you see my life?
How will you narrate my past?

I ask you to narrate my past,
but you can never write my future.
I myself can only plan the unseen.
I do not write my story,
so you cannot either.
Let the future be
and tell me all about what has been.

Yes, You can narrate my past
but you can never write my future.
You can tell me my story,
but will not be able to force the unseen.

Crumble Down (a poem)

poetry

When I build me up
I crumble down
and feel nothingness surround.
When I build me up
I forget to stand
and fall to the earth’s sand.
Crumbling and falling
I can not survive
Forgetting you breath
forgetting you live inside.
My strength and hope
my way and life.
I forget
I crumble down
so you can stand out
I do not stand on the sand
because you push me to your rock.

I will remember to crumble down
only to your will,
so that your love with stand.
I will stand aside
knowing you are my rock
so that your hope will shine bright.

Yes, I will crumble down
be pushed aside,
so love, hope and mercy can survive.

 

I have realized lately that I have felt this weird crumbling emotion towards my life, as if I am not in control of my life. I know I am not in complete control of my life, but people like to think they are. I want to believe what I am doing with my life means something and that my life is mine. Well, I realized on Sunday at church that the reason I felt lost and a crumbling of myself in my life is because since I am a follower of Jesus my life is not my own. I love Jesus and have given my life to him. This means I work  with the gifts and talents God has given me to spread his love, hope and truth. 

I started to write this poem (in my mind) as  an expression of  loosing myself and not feeling right. As I actually wrote it down though, I realized why I had that feeling and turned it into a poem for God.

I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think.

Stay (A Poem)

poetry

Can I give you strength?

Will you run away

If I tell you I love you

If I build you up

will you stay?

How can I help you

How can I help you grow

If I do what will happen

If I lend a helping hand

Will you show me that you care?

I really do hope I can help

I really do hope you will stay.

 

At the Windmill (a poem)

poetryThere is a little cafe near my house that I believe I am becoming a regular at. Today I went by myself and had breakfast. I decided to write a little as I waited. This is one of the poems I wrote while enjoying their food. It really is a great place.

With painted wall,

warm and inviting

art hangs welcoming guest

saying be who you are

do what you will

and enjoy the good that is served

 

With the sky on the ceiling

bright and pleasing

curtains hang to welcome guest

saying come near or far

do what you will

and enjoy the food that is served

 

So I write and dream

sitting in the corner so I can watch

the couples eat

The students study

and an other lone female reading the paper

I sit, watch and writing

doing what I will

and enjoying the food that is served.

Writing Process (a free verse poem)

poetry

Poetry comes out
with my eyes closed
when sleep in near;
brilliant poems flow
when paper is far
and repeating is not enough.
Wisdom and intelligence overwhelm me
when the only outlet is to speak it to myself
or when no one is listening.

Yet when I open my eyes
words fly away
like fading dreams they fly.
The poetry inside is trapped
like a rat in a house unable to be freed
as soon as the paper is in reach.
I open my mouth when some is around
and only babble spews out.

So I write with my eyes closed,
freeing my poems from the paper trap
and write when no on is around
with the quiet of my mind.