"Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them. Sunlight won't kill them and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust -- that part is true. They need fresh human-blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." John Winchester explained as Emily poked her head from the back to in between the passenger and driver's seat of her father's 1967 Chevy Impala.

Emily was fourteen-years-old and about to go on her third hunt ever. She had only recently been deemed old enough by her father to start going on hunts with him and Dean. Sam; still too young to join, was now alone in staying at the motel room, something which he was not fond of. When it was him and Emily, then it was okay, but now it was just him.

Dean sat listening intently to his father's words in the passenger's seat, nodding his head.

They were currently sitting outside an abandoned warehouse where a small coven of three vampires was residing. In the small city of Port Angeles, Washington, people had been disappearing and found days later with their bodies drained of blood.

Twenty-one people had already been found dead and five had recently gone missing. John assumed it was a vampire coven, and right he was. It took John two weeks to track down the pesky vampires, pinpointing them to an old fishing warehouse on the coast of Port Angeles. He presumed the five missing people were most likely being held hostage by the vampires inside.

"Okay, but guns will stun em', right daddy?" Emily eagerly asked earning a disapproving look from both John and Dean.

Emily was still in the mindset of hunts being fun and exciting. John wanted Emily to understand that hunting the supernatural was no joking matter, and it was actually a matter of life and death. If any of them did anything wrong, it would not be hard for the vampires to take the upper hand and potentially turn them into their next snack.

"This isn't a joke, Em." Dean scowled, using what he thought was a mature big-brother tone, but what Emily perceived as a 'bossy' voice instead.

Emily rolled her eyes overdramatically, mocking Dean in an extremely immature way. "Dis' ain't no joke, Em. I would know because I'm a big-ass bossy--" Emily's deep mocking tone was cut off by Dean slapping her on the shoulder.

"Stop it, Emily!" Dean growled in frustration as Emily hit him back, both of them getting into a slapping fight, but neither hitting the other hard enough to actually hurt.

"Stop it, Emily!" Emily mocked Dean in a dramatically deep tone.

"Stop it right this instant, both of you!" John bit making both the Winchester children stop, reeling away from the other. "We are on a hunt, and if you cannot act mature then you both sure as hell should not be with me right now!" He barked, Dean and Emily, tilting their heads down.

"Sorry, pops." Dean mumbled at the same time Emily had murmured, "Sorry, daddy."

"We'll talk about you taking everything as a joke later..." John eyed Emily as he said this before turning to Dean. "And I'll talk to you about starting slap fights with your sister later as well."

Both children grumbled under their breaths, John opting to ignore them while taking three machetes out of his large duffel bag. Silently, John handed both of his children a machete, keeping one for himself.

Turning toward Emily, John took that moment to answer her earlier question. "If you fire a gun at them, it may surprise them, but it won't buy you anything longer than a second. And after you fire the gun once, it ain't gon' have the same effect after."

Emily nodded, her eyes turning to the gleaming silver of the machete in her grasp. Her dad taught her a while ago how to wield a machete properly. Some monsters were unable to be killed by things such as guns, some monsters, like vampires, could only be killed by having their head sliced off.

As gruesome and grotesque as it was, John taught all his kids the proper way to behead something. All it took was a sharp, strong, and a clear shot to the neck and the head would fall right off.

John was the first to get out of the car, Dean following, and then finally Emily. Slamming the door to the car shut, Emily eyed the large building in front of her.

It was a cloudy day, the air smelling of rain, informing Emily that a rainstorm was coming soon. Her thoughts were only confirmed when she heard thunder roll in from the near distance. And if she had turned around at that second, she would have seen a lightning strike that looked identical to her eye color light up the sky touching down in a field miles away.

A smile crawled onto Emily's face as the young girl swung her machete around, determination filling her mind. This was not going to be the day she failed at a hunt, this was going to be the day she succeeded. After all, her previous two hunts had gone rather well. She refused for this one to be any different.

"Yo, Dean," she whispered in her brother's ear, so her father couldn't hear her from where he stood. "You look like a girl."

   While that fact was not true in any way, Emily knew that saying that always got under her brother's skin and made him feel self-conscious.

In her mind, as Dean's younger sister, it was her job to make him second-guess himself. She, of course, loved Dean, but alike to all younger siblings she adored messing with him.

"Fuck you." Dean spat back, venom lacing his tone.

This was just great, he was now going into this hunt self-conscious about his appearance. What a jerk he had for a little sister, those were the thoughts running across his mind.

The irony of this entire situation was the fact that Dean looked extremely masculine, especially for being only sixteen. But, when Emily placed thoughts of him looking like a girl in his brain, it simply messed with his mind.

"Dike..." Dean mumbled under his breath, his words a directed insult at Emily, trying to get her as self-conscious as she had just made him.

Unfortunately, Emily was not affected by his words in any manner. She knew she looked far away from being male, and even if she ever did look more masculine than most females, she wouldn't care. Emily Winchester simply was not one to fret over looks.

"C' mon, you two!" John yelled over his shoulder, Emily and Dean trotting after him, all three of them heading for the doors of the warehouse. "Let's kill us some vampires."

☐☐☐☐

Emily's eyes snapped open, the brunette being greeted by a dark room. Groaning, Emily turned over in bed, reading what time the clock on the nightstand next to her read.

3:28 A.M.

Emily huffed, upset that she had woken herself up from her dream. That was not even a nightmare she had been having, in fact, it was a rather nice memory. The hunt had gone well, Emily managed to kill one of the vampires, Dean and her father taking down the other two. Not only that, but they had found three out of the five missing people alive and rescued them.

The other two were unfortunate deaths, but at least they were able to bring home the bodies to their families.

Moaning in annoyance, Emily dragged her hand down the length of her face. Earlier that night, Emily had decided that her sleep deprivation had gone on long enough, so she allowed herself to get a full nights sleep that night in preparation for the next day.

Emily did not want to show up to the quarry looking like a zombie, so she actually went to bed at nine o'clock and planned on getting up at ten the next morning. Eleven hours of sleep ought to catch her up on recent weeks worth she had been missing, right? Or at least, that's what she believed.

Huffing, Emily slowly turned onto her back, so her eyes were facing the ceiling.

It was at that moment that Emily saw it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily could see a towering form standing in the corner of her room. With the darkness, it looked like a huge looming shadow, something out of nightmares. In that minute, Emily understood that she was no longer alone in her small motel room. Something else was with her, something that she knew was not human.

Immediately, Emily's mind flipped into overdrive. No longer was she the fun fifteen-year-old girl that she had been flaunting around Derry, Emily was now a full-fledged hunter, ready to terminate anything that stood in her way.

To Emily, it was not her who should fear the monster, it was the monster who should fear her.

Emily had no clue what type of supernatural monster was currently in her room, but she had a feeling that this was the very thing that had been tormenting the town of Derry. The thing she had been trying to track down and figure out.

She realized the danger this situation posed as well as the fragileness of it. If she made one wrong move, she could easily end up dead; however, if she played this correctly, then perhaps she might just be able to kill it. Or even if she was not able to kill it, at least she would have an idea with what she was dealing with.

Emily took special care in keeping her heartbeat calm, making sure to give no indication that she realized the monster was there. If the monster believed her to be unaware of its presence, that in itself gave her the upper hand.

Turning onto her side facing the nightstand, Emily yawned, pretending as if she was trying to go back to sleep. As the Winchester girl turned, her hand slyly made its way under her pillow where her fully loaded pistol sat.

She had to play this smart. Outsmart the monster.

Emily was not sure if this monster could be killed by bullets, but she could damn well try. If not bullets, then her machete was sitting just under the bed along with her salt-rifle, sniper, and other blades. And this was including her ninja-star blade.

That night, because Emily had planned to go to sleep and didn't fall asleep while reading up on lore, she had gotten herself ready for bed. That meant that she had on her brass-knuckles, something she usually wore when she purposefully went to bed.

As John Winchester had told her; "constant vigilance!", that meant keeping secure when sleeping. Wearing brass-knuckles and keeping one gun under her pillow along with a blade just on her nightstand was something Emily did most—if not every night. And right now, it proved to be incredibly useful and clever considering there was something standing on the other side of the room.

In a motion akin to the speed light, Emily's fingers grasped her pistol and her figure had flown into a sitting position, the girl using the hand not holding her gun to turn on the lamp before she was on her knees with her pistol pointed to the corner of the room.

Emily had a sneer painted on her face, the gun held tightly within her grasp as she took in the creature standing in the corner.

Bright yellow eyes watched her every move, a white face painted red. Emily was at a loss for words, there was a clown in the corner of her room.

However, it was not one of those friendly clowns that most people envision when they thought of the nice circus-workers. No, this clown was ugly and terrifying to look at. Its hair was a fiery orange, balding toward the front with what Emily considered to be the biggest forehead she had ever seen in her life.

The clown was frighteningly tall, standing at a solid height of 6'7. The outfit on it was a disgustingly faded rainbow color, big red shoes covering its feet. The thing could have been a cousin to Ronald McDonald in Emily's mind, but Ronald McDonald was much nicer to look at. This thing, on the other hand, made Emily want to puke.

Thoughts flew through Emily's mins faster than she could comprehend, her mind screaming at her that this had to be only one type of monster.

"Shapeshifter!" An inner voice which happened to sound a lot like her father shouted.

Emily had ruled out the creature being a shapeshifter early on, as shapeshifters generally did not kill as this thing was. Shapeshifters killed on the spot, but this one seemed to be bringing the bodies with it and hiding them somewhere as none of the missing people's bodies had been found yet.

Looking at it now, Emily could not see it being anything other than a shapeshifter from its appearance. Unless it was psychopath dressed as a clown standing in her room (which she highly doubted), it had to be a shapeshifter. A different sort of shapeshifter than the ones she had hunted was the most likely answer to Emily.

Emily's heart pounded, a fiery fear spreading throughout her veins. She wanted this thing gone and dead.

Emily thought she was going to go into cardiac arrest when the thing suddenly quirked its lips, sending a horrifying smile her way. Drool seeped from its lips, a pair of yellowing buck-bunny teeth revealed with its smile.

"Tasty, tasty, fear." Its voice was raspy and dark, sounding as if it had just smoked an entire pack of cancer sticks.

With her heart pounding, Emily found herself saying only one sentence.

"Oh, hell to the motherfucking no!"

It was like a light had just exploded, a sound alike to a firecracker buzzed about the room. The smell of smoke and gunpowder took over the area, and luckily, the Derry Townhouse was old enough that there were no fire detectors, otherwise, the alarm would have no doubt already went off.

Emily Winchester had fired her gun, the bullet hitting its target perfectly. Emily always was a great shot.

The clown growled, glancing down at the hole in its chest. The hunter girl breathed in, watching in horror as the clown was not even the least bit affected.

This definitely was not any normal shapeshifter, if it was, the thing should have died at the impact of Emily's pure silver bullet. But it barely even blinked, seeming more annoyed by it than hurt.

Looking toward her machete, Emily thought that taking off its head would do the trick. After all, nothing could function without a head. However, Emily also had a feeling this thing was more powerful than it was letting on.

She had no clue what it had up its sleeve.

The bright yellow of the thing glared at Emily, its voice drifting about the room saying only one word.

"Hunter."

The tone was low and bitter, but before Emily could say anything else, the thing had disappeared.

"What!" Emily screamed, darting out of her bed, looking at every inch of the room. "That's not possible!"

She was officially dumbfounded, this thing had teleported out of the room like it was nothing. Emily had never seen any monster like it, this thing was definitely not any normal shapeshifter. Sure, it obviously had the ability to shapeshift, but it also had the ability to teleport and probably a number of other things she had not yet been exposed too.

Questions surged through her head, confusion and fear lacing her body. For the first time in what felt like a long while, she was stumped. She had no clue what to do.

However, she knew one thing for certain. This was going to be her hardest hunt yet.