14. The Transition

Dean drives Baby to Randy's house. We're not the first ones to arrive; there are other cars here. The air feels thick, and I'll bet the air inside that house isn't any better.

The four of us leave the Impala, armed and ready to go. Just as we get to the door, someone random guy opens the door. Cas lifts a hand, shoving the man backwards. The four of us step inside, and I don't see Claire anywhere.

But I do see the gun that's pointed in Cas's direction. But Cas is protected, thanks to Sam, who's got his own gun at the man.

"Don't," Sam threatens.

"Back it up," I say, swinging my batons threateningly. The man obeys, and my brothers hold him at gunpoint.

"Where's the girl?" Cas demands.

I startle at her scream. I get a head start on Cas, flying up the stairs. I crash through the door, and I see a mangy-looking guy pinning Claire down in the room. But my entrance has got him distracted, much so that Claire kicks him in the face. She uses the kick to get up.

She goes to town on the guy, kicking him repeatedly.

"Claire," Cas says. She doesn't stop. "Claire!" He intervenes, grabbing her arm. Claire notices the contact and stops kicking. He slowly pulls her out of the room, and I put a careful hand on her back as we get back down the stairs.

Once we reach the bottom, Claire moves away from Cas and me, like we're infected or something. She could be a tad more grateful. We just helped saved her from...whatever that was. My mind comes up with startling ideas, ideas that fuel the need to kill the man upstairs. If he planned on violating her, he doesn't deserve to live. Family, friends, or none of that, that man is no man. He's a monster.

"Randy," Claire pleads. The man who looks at Claire then dips his head to the floor must be Randy. He's another one I feel shouldn't live. Getting children to help pay off his debts.

"Get her out of here," I tell Cas.

"Yeah. Go," Sam agrees.

"Go," Dean also agrees.

I stay, as does Dean, as Sam, Claire, and Cas all leave Randy's house. With a nod exchange with Dean, we both start to head out. But at the sound of feet moving inward, we spin around, Dean with his gun at the men in the room.

"Hey, back up!" he demands. "Back up. Don't be as dumb as you look."

"Hey!"

I'm shoved out of the way as Dean gets hit over the head with a beer bottle. I nearly go tumbling out the open doorway. It's the man who attacked Claire. I look at Dean, who's on the ground, slightly dazed. I move in, testing the dumbass who thought it was smart to hit my older brother with a beer bottle.

I crack my neck.

"You guys...don't want to do this," Dean rasps.

"Hey!" I shout as Dean receives a kick to the face.

One man shoots at me. It barely hurts. I laugh manically, throwing my head back.

"Oh, wow," I say breathlessly, wiping away nonexistent tears. "You guys are so. Stupid." I pull out a knife, curtesy of Baby's trunk. Screw my batons, they're just blunt instruments of war. A knife...this I can have more fun with. "So, who's first?"

When another guy tries to unsuccessfully kill me, I defend Dean and go all-out.

With speed, I lunge for the nearest guy. He tries to attack me, but I get him with a slice to his throat. As his body falls, two men jump onto me, forcing me to the ground. I bite and scratch, eventually getting some demon power against them, throwing them off me with force. Both fly into a wall, and I get to my feet.

"Oh, you have no idea what you've just done," I say sweetly, showing them my true nature now.

Both men's color leaves their faces. They should be damn well scared for their fucking life, because I'm about to steal it from them.

Behind me, I hear a cry of pain. I spin around. Dean's up, his own knife in hand. He's brutally stabbing an already-dead body. Even though I'm distracted, I'm still able to stop the fist that comes for me. I turn my head sharply and squeeze the man's fist. He whimpers, buckling at the knees from the pain. I hit the man with an uppercut, sending him into the kitchen.

I stumble as another guy—geez, how many are there?—decides it's best to take me down with a chair. It's a wooden chair, easy to dismantle with my strength. I break off a leg of the chair, getting a sharp stake point, before driving it into the guy. His eyes widen from the shock, and I leave the stake in his heart as his body drops to the ground.

Readjusting the grip on my knife, I stalk into the kitchen. The guy who attacked Claire is trying to get the man I'd flown in here up. With a flick of my wrist, I fling the one into the fridge and hold him there as I predatorily make my way to the cowering pathetic excuse of a man who thinks he can escape me by being stuck between the cabinets.

I crouch down, all ferociousness is gone from the man's eyes. I don't stab him, I snap his neck with a twist of my wrist. The snap sounds oddly satisfying. Meanwhile, I can hear Dean letting out his inner animal by annihilating the rest of the men in the other room. He's not making a lot of noise; the men who he's killing are.

"What are you?" hisses the man I still have pegged on the fridge.

I turn slowly to him, smirking. I press him harder into the fridge. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare." I release him, and he slumps down, but I grab him by his neck so that he's standing.

I lock eyes with my prey before I stab him. I pull the knife out and stab again. I let the demon in me take over. His blood dots my face the more vicious I get. I feel a giggle bubble inside at me as he gurgles, struggling for breath.

I get a little too carried away and keep stabbing the body, even after I've seen the light disappear from his eyes.

I pant, dropping the corpse at my feet. This feels oddly exhilarating. This is what I missed out on at the bar with Franco. This is what I could have felt, but Cas and Hannah had killed that fun for me.

Yes, this is fun. Or, was, since I currently don't have anyone to slay.

Now it's time to completely cross over. Make the transition complete, in a way. And you know what? I eased into the transition fairly nicely, and swiftly. It wasn't forced, it worked out, as though God intended it to happen. A little nagging thought in the back of my brain tells me that this isn't right, that this is the darkness rearing its ugly head, that I'm to shut it up for good. That I'm supposed to use my powers, for good. I did well. I killed four monsters.

I have a feeling someone's sneaking up on me. This knife is just painted in various victims. I can take one more. One last kill.

I whip around, stabbing my knife towards my intruder. But the attack is stopped, and I feel like an anvil has dropped on my head.

I just tried to kill Sam.

And he sees my eyes. Not the green eyes my meat suit has, but the demon eyes.

My mouth parts in horror as I step back, dropping the knife at my feet. It clatters loudly, making me wince. Sam steps back, and I can see the horror and betrayal on his face. I blink away the demon eyes, reverting them back to their natural color.

"Sam..." I stammer.

Behind Sam, Cas lurks, and I meet his eyes. Claire is nowhere to be found, and neither is Dean.

"Are they...?" The question lingers on my tongue.

"All dead," Cas reports gravely. "It's a...a mess."

I nod, avoiding eye contact with Sam. I feel his gaze burning a hole through my head.

"Sam," Cas tries. I look up to see Sam leave the kitchen in a haste, with me with no explanation for him and two corpses as a result of my demoness. Well, four if you count the other two in the living room from earlier.

It's like Sam has sucked all of the fun of the kill out of me. He fills me with guilt, because I never told him about the big change, other than my new body. He's the only one out of the three of them who didn't know. I was hoping I never had to tell him, and if I had to, there would've been a good time to.

This is far from the best time to have told him. This is the farthest thing from showing him.

"Josette," Cas says calmly. At least he's not looking at me like I've betrayed him. He doesn't look at me in disgust or hate. "We need to go."

"Give me a minute." I clear my throat.

Cas nods before leaving. I slowly pick up my bloody knife, hearing the echoes of the fallen men in my mind. Mindlessly, without remorse, I took their lives. I took pride and joy into killing them. A wrong thing that felt so right.

I'm still debating on whether it still feels that way, post-murder spree.

I dread walking back out to the Impala now, with Sam knowing this development.

Bracing myself, I take a slow walk out of the kitchen and into the other room, which looks like a tornado ripped through it. A table is broken, as are chairs. A lamp is on the floor near a corpse's foot. The corpses reek of blood. I know I'm not responsible for these. The walls are painted with blood too. A perfect post-massacre scene.

I meet Cas out on the porch. I look forlornly at the Impala, where Claire, Sam, and probably Dean are. I sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes.

"Josette?" he asks me softly.

"I'll, uh...I'll be okay." I sniff. "Is Dean...?"

"He got carried away too. The Mark...it took over."

Right, the Mark of Cain. Dean's reason for going a-wall.

"We heard gunfire. Did they hurt you?"

"They tickled," I joke bitterly. "Humans. So naïve. So juvenile. So stupid." I shake my head.

Cas turns my head with his hand, resting his forehead on mine. His support calms me, tries to fight the battle in my head right now. If they see, let them. I don't care anymore. It's not forbidden. I just wish it remains secret just a little longer; I like the idea of sneaking around.

"I'm sorry," I barely catch Cas murmur.

I look at him, confused. "What?"

Before I know it, before I can protest, Cas puts two fingers to my forehead, and the last thing I remember feeling is my body giving out.

**Yikes. Cat's out now.

Confession time: Writing Jo's murder spree was fun. I know, I know, that's evil. But hey, it pulled off, didn't it? And now, she's killed, officially, like Franco wanted her to before they got separated.

How well is Sammy gonna take it, do you think?**