A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ever Supernatural fanfic! Exciting stuff, I know. My OC is played by the ever-gorgeous Dayana Crunk; one of my favourite alternative models. And, for future reference, 'Smythe' is the old English spelling of Smith - because I'm awkward like that.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I really enjoyed writing this.
This is basically a write-up of the show, including quite a few actual episodes, just including my OCs. This may not be your thing, but I hope you give it a go and enjoy it all the same!
- Rayna xoxo

Becoming a Vampire isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. Especially when you'd been raised a Hunter.
You see, thousands of years ago, dark magic created Vampires. Some of them couldn't hack it and became monsters. Others had their moments. But ones like Elizabeth Smythe were different. They were the ones able to control themselves around Human blood - the ones who could integrate back into society with reasonable ease.
The physical differences were pretty easy to spot, when their fangs were out, anyway...
The ones who had lost control or had their bad moments had a full set of sharp, dagger-like fangs. Vampires like Elizabeth, however, only had two canine fangs. Where do you think the stories came from?

Elizabeth Mary Smythe was born in England in the winter of 1764. Shortly after that, her parents got on a ship and moved to the Americas.
They'd settled in Virginia, raising Elizabeth as a 'true American', whatever that meant.
But not long after her eleventh birthday, Elizabeth's father had been called to war. He lasted a full seven years before he became just another piece of cannon-fodder - a toy soldier kicked into the mud by the man-sized children in charge.
Five years after the war had ended; a twenty-three year old Elizabeth had made her place in the world known. Her exquisite piano skills were the talk of every town she rode into.
She was loving life in the new United States of America. Even if she had to stop her usual habits to assist her mother in a hunt for some kind of Vampire, ghost or Demon.
Everything changed, however, after she met a man. But then, that's how it always starts, right? With a man?
This particular stranger was called Alexander Finley.
Mister Finley was the type of person who flaunted his wealth to the less fortunate with nothing but arrogance and a nose tipped to the Heavens.
He had approached Elizabeth in the lobby of a theatre she had performed at earlier that evening.
His stride over to her exuded elegance, mystery and danger. His dark brown eyes grew black with lust. She was simply too good to pass up.
"Good evening, Miss Smythe." He greeted, tipping his head with a half-cocked smile. "Might I say your performance this evening was positively decadent. I hope to hear more of you in the near future."
He looked at her with a sense of familiarity - like he'd known her in a past life or something.
Elizabeth smiled brightly, curtseying to the man before her.
"Thank you, sir. You are too kind."
Her voice was like an angel's song - delicate and as musical as her fingers. It had surprised even Finley. He wasn't expecting such a well-spoken English voice to come from those full, pale lips.
"My name is Alexander Finley. I was wondering if you'd do me the honour of joining me for a drink." His half smile widened into a hopeful grin.
Elizabeth nodded, placing her hand in the one he'd held out for her.
Biggest mistake of her life.
He had tricked her into a nearby alley and fed from her only an hour later. Like he was a rat and she was his scraps. He force-fed his blood down her throat whilst half-conscious and that was that - the beginning of the end of her life.

When she woke, Elizabeth found herself in a stunning four-poster bed, her surroundings entirely unfamiliar.
A wave of nausea crossed her stomach, causing her icy blue eyes to widen and dart around the room in search for something to catch the contents of her stomach.
But nothing came. Only an overwhelming sense of hunger.
"Ah, you're awake." Finley's voice came from the double doors at the end of the bed. His smile was sickening, but somehow suited his slim, chiselled face. "You've been out for some time now."
Elizabeth scrambled out of the bed, grabbing a candlestick as she composed her memory of the previous night. She held the stick up in front of her.
"Stay back!" She commanded. "Where am I?"
"There's no need for makeshift weaponry, Miss Smythe. I won't hurt you." Finley replied, taking a step forward with his hands up to show her he meant no harm. And there was that familiar look again...
"Where am I?" Elizabeth repeated.
"You're in my town house, Elizabeth. You're only a few streets from the theatre. Do you remember the events of last night?" Finley's brows raised in curiosity.
Elizabeth lowered the candlestick as her eyes fell into a squint, trying to remember what had happened.
"The alley. You... Bit me." She gasped, raising the candlestick once more. "You're a Vampire!"
"Yes, I'm a Vampire." He simply said. "And now, you are too."
Elizabeth's brows knotted together in a deep set frown.
"That's... I can't be. I hunt monsters like you." She breathed.
"And yet, here we are." Finley smirked. "I suppose you're feeling quite hungry about now."
Elizabeth's dry, cracked lips smacked together as she was reminded of her empty stomach.
"This is what your body needs." He told her, motioning to his left.
There was a beautiful, expensive looking dresser next to him with a silver tray sat on top, displaying a wine glass filled with thick, red liquid.
With one inhale, it was all Elizabeth could smell. She licked her lips in anticipation, her hands releasing the candlestick.
"Drink, my dear. You'll feel better, I can promise you that." Finley's brassy voice said.
Elizabeth had barely heard it, though. Her eyes were fixed on the glass and her brain was too busy enjoying what her nose was smelling to pay attention.
Her feet moved without her telling them to, straight towards the man before her and the glass she was so focused on.
With a rat-like hand, Mister Finley grasped the stem of the wine glass and held out to her.
As soon as Elizabeth took the glass, it was at her lips.
The blood she'd tasted when she pricked her finger with a sewing needle by accident as a child tasted nothing like what she was tasting in that moment.
It was cold and velvety, coating her throat like silk. Before, the metallic taste of blood was repulsive to her, but this? This was different. It was more than a craving, it was pure, unadulterated need.
The feeling didn't last long, however. It was vastly over-powered by an agonising sensation in her gums. The glass slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor was what fully brought Elizabeth out of her daze.
Her right hand cupped her mouth as she cried out, falling to her knees.
"Don't panic, darling. This is just part of the process. It will only hurt for a little while." Finley reassured her, crouching down next to her with a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"What's happening to me?" Elizabeth whimpered.
"See for yourself." Finley replied, helping her to her feet so that she could see herself in the mirror above the dresser.
Elizabeth gazed into the glass in awe at the sight of two bright white, sharp fangs where her usually flat canines had previously been. Her usual light blue eyes had darkened like a deep ocean, accentuated by her porcelain skin and red wine coloured hair.
"I'm a monster..." She breathed.
"Not if you don't want to be." Finley smirked. "The things you hunt are past the stage of no return. Stages two and three, I call them. They are the monsters. You are what they could have been before their bloodlust took them. I can teach you to control it. You don't have to be like them."
Elizabeth frowned, mentally thanking whoever that the pain in her gums had subsided.
"My father always said there wasn't any other kind of Vampire - that they were all monsters."
Finley sighed deeply, walking further into the room.
"Your father was wrong. Just like so many other Hunters before him."
"Why did you turn me?" Elizabeth asked.
Finley turned back around to face her, his half smile decorating his face nicely.
"Would it be too forward of me to say that I miss having company?" He countered.
"I think turning me without my consent was too forward, Mister Finley. So I believe we're a little past all of that." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.
"Touché, my dear." He chuckled with a shake of his head.

That's how it started, but between a couple of close calls that would've resulted in a one way trip to Hell and skipping every town in the US, it didn't get really interesting until the autumn of 1993.
That was when she met John Winchester and Bobby Singer.

Hell would have frozen over before Elizabeth stopped hunting. As far as she was concerned, it was her birth right.
After perfecting her Vampire-enhanced skills, she was the most formidable Hunter to walk the Earth.
But she almost met her match on the aforementioned autumn night of 1993.

Elizabeth had been in Detroit, handling a string of Demon possessions.
She'd found herself in an abandoned house and quickly got herself surrounded.
Her Vampiric speed enabled her to take out the Demons with ease - that and her trusty Colt Paterson 1836. She had had it made by Samuel Colt, himself, along with bullets enchanted by a Witch specifically to kill Demons.
A slow clap interrupted her, however.
"Not bad." A deep, gravelly voice spoke.
"Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you leave." Elizabeth growled, turning to face the man.
He was tall, wearing a grey t-shirt under a button-up, under a thigh length black leather jacket, jeans and work boots. The sawn-off shotgun in his hands made her a little unnerved.
"Sorry." He smiled. "Can't do that."
"Look, I can see you're a Hunter. But so am I. I just have the misfortune of being one of the things I hunt as well. So if you walk away now, I won't be forced to defend myself." Elizabeth replied, accentuating her lazy shrug by throwing her arms up.
"What are you?" The man frowned.
"I'm a Vampire."
The man let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head.
"Those things exist? Holy crap..." The way he barely seemed to care unnerved Elizabeth more than she would have liked.
"Look, let me go and we never have to cross paths again. I really do have a schedule to keep."
"I really can't do that." He said.
Elizabeth sighed heavily, tucking the Colt into her thigh high black boot.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it already. Just put your bloody gun down and we can talk."
He thought for a moment, but eventually threw it to the ground.
"It only would've stung you anyway - rock salt shells." He told her.
Elizabeth stuck out her bottom lip as she nodded in approval.
"Can't say I've ever thought of that one. Though, I'm usually too up close and personal to need shotguns." She replied, taking a seat on some stacked up wooden pallets. "So what's your name, Hunter?"
The man let out another chuckle.
"Name's John Winchester. Yours?"
"Elizabeth Smythe." She replied.
John gave a nod as he rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out what to do next.
"How do I know that you won't hurt anybody, Elizabeth? Vampire's gotta feed somehow." He huffed.
"Because I have my snack pocket." She shrugged, reaching into her floor length leather jacket.
John watched cautiously as she pulled out a blood bag and removed the seal.
She charged it up in the air like a champagne glass before putting the tube in her mouth and sucking.
John had never seen anything like this before. He practically recoiled in shock as he watched her feast.
"You don't feed on Humans?" He asked.
Elizabeth shook her head as she swallowed her mouthful.
"Not since people started collecting blood for medical procedures." She replied. "Even before then, I'd never kill a Human. I had... Friends. They willingly gave me their blood in exchange for protection and food."
John was amazed. He'd never really made time to actually discover Vampires existence, let alone discover they had different eating habits.
"You see, it's easy to tell the killer Vamps from the blood bag Vamps." Elizabeth continued. "Vampires with a full set of fangs are the people killers - the ones who've lost control or never had it in the first place - Vampires like me, have only two canine fangs."
John frowned, but gave another understanding nod.
"So... Are you a Hunter because you're a Vampire or a Vampire because you're a Hunter?" He asked.
"Technically neither." Elizabeth smirked, adjusting her position on the wooden pallets so that one leg was tucked under the other. "I was born into a hunting family, sure... But I had just finished up a piano concert when I was turned."
"When was that?" John folded his arms across his chest.
"Seventeen Eighty-Eight." She replied, taking another sip from her blood bag.
John's eyebrows raised.
"Wow. Yo-you look good for your age." He gave a light-hearted chuckle.
Elizabeth smiled brightly.
"I suppose it helps that I was only twenty three when I was turned. Immortality just wouldn't be worth it if we aged." She giggled.
"Perimeter's clear." Another man said, walking in.
Elizabeth instantly hid the blood bag in one of the gaps in the crates, giving John a nervous look.
He just gave her a small wink, silently telling her he wouldn't tell his friend what she was.
"Bobby, this here's Elizabeth. She's been kind enough to do our job for us." He smiled, motioning to the dead Demons littering the floor.
"Great. I love driving all day and night for no reason." Bobby grumbled, rubbing his beard scruff as he looked over the bodies. He then looked up at the girl in front of him. "No offence."
"None taken. I get it. It's not like all Hunters keep in touch to find out who's going where." Elizabeth smirked at the man's annoyance.
"Oh, she's British too. Great." Bobby huffed.
"Something wrong with that?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.
"No, sorry." Bobby sighed. "Guess I'm just tired. These guys didn't give you any trouble, did they?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"No trouble at all. I've been doing this long enough for them to become rather predictable."
"You didn't even use any sigils. That's impressive." John hummed in mild amusement.
"I'll say." Bobby agreed.
"Like I said," Elizabeth replied, rising to her feet. "Predictable."

The trio kept in touch, occasionally going on hunts together and exchanging information about the creatures they went after.
John had even gone as far as telling Elizabeth his backstory; about the yellow-eyed Demon, about his sons, his wife - everything.
In return, Elizabeth told him her story and gave him journals she'd written about some of the monsters she'd faced over the centuries.
But they never told Bobby about her Vampirism. John was convinced that he wouldn't understand - that there was no way a Vampire could possibly be good.
Of course, all that had to change one day. They just didn't know when that would be.

And then John went missing. Bobby had reached out to Elizabeth to help in the search, but it was no use until his sons eventually found him. By then, she'd heard it had been too late to get back in touch with him, as he had died not long after.

Elizabeth wasn't in the habit of having role models or heroes or even people she looked up to, in fact, she had something against it, even if she didn't know what exactly it was. But after befriending John and hearing his story, not to mention his apparently easy decision to not kill her on sight - not that he knew how - Elizabeth found herself inspired by someone so strong, yet so kind... Kind to her, at least.